Chicory hailed as the most wonderful food topping

NEW YORK, 29 SEPTEMBER 2026 —

The chicory has a flavor so complex that it seems immune to further seasoning, plenty of vitamin C, and the tendency, due to its bitterness, to make the body release the now-well-known satiety-signaling hormone, GLP-1.

The vegetable’s rise is not merely a trend in plating aesthetics but a reflection of deeper agricultural and nutritional interests, particularly regarding its unique metabolic properties and its resilience in storage.

The last decade has seen the overdue arrival of these vegetables in the American consciousness, transforming them from niche imports into staples of fine dining. If you have eaten at New York’s King or Lula Cafe in Chicago or Ètra in Los Angeles, a startling salad of white-and-crimson leaves has surely paraded through the dining room, looking more like art than food.

The visual impact is comparable to Leandro Bassano’s Les Noces de Cana (circa 1579) in the Louvre or Rachel Antonoff’s spring 2025 radicchio dress. The vegetable is an elegant head of lettuce, though it is not actually a lettuce, that is so intrinsically beautiful it requires no fussy plating. Its flavor ranges from sweet to numbingly bitter, a complexity that renders additional seasoning unnecessary.

Beyond its aesthetic and gustatory appeal, the chicory offers substantial nutritional advantages. It is rich in vitamin C and possesses a specific bitterness that triggers the body to release GLP-1, a satiety-signaling hormone that has gained significant attention in recent years. This physiological response positions the vegetable as a functional food, appealing to consumers and health professionals alike who are seeking natural ways to manage appetite and metabolic health.

The vegetable’s durability further enhances its marketability; unlike many leafy greens, it can be stored for months under the right conditions, reducing waste and ensuring a consistent supply chain for restaurants and retailers.

The species Cichorium intybus, the botanical name for chicory, encompasses a diverse range of varieties. This includes the green stalky Catalogna and the pan di zucchero, which serves as the Italian equivalent of iceberg lettuce. The most celebrated group, however, is the radicchio, of which there are over a dozen varieties, each distinct in appearance and texture.

Radicchio di Chioggia presents as a dense, round, ivory-and-magenta head, while radicchio di Treviso is a firm torpedo of deep reddish purple. Its sibling, Tardivo, features a Seussian swirl of long, loose tendrils. All these varieties share a similar ineffable sweetbitterness, a characteristic that defines the eating experience and distinguishes them from other leafy vegetables.

Historically, chicories have been a winter crop, harvested in the cold months around Christmas, a fact that often surprises those accustomed to summer salads. Italian agricultural contacts have long advised that visits to see the crops should be planned for late in the year. However, the narrative of chicory cultivation is deeply intertwined with human innovation and accidental discovery.

Cichorium intybus descended from a wild plant mentioned on ancient Egyptian papyrus and in Pliny the Elder’s Natural History (circa AD 77), which noted that chicory and similar plants have leaves near the ground, budding from the root. Yet, today’s radicchio, with its characteristic white midribs and deep red or variegated leaves, has more in common in flavor and genesis with the Belgian endive, also a chicory.

The origin of the Belgian endive, known in its native tongue as witloof, dates back to the 19th century. In a tradition akin to the discoveries of penicillin and X-rays, it was discovered by mistake. According to lore, a Belgian farmer happened upon a proto-version in his root cellar, sprouting from stored chicory roots. This accidental discovery led, after a few twists and turns, to the development of Northern Italy’s exquisite radicchios some decades later.

The process involves what is called blanching or forcing. Radicchio Tardivo is planted in the field, then dug up with the root and forced in lightless conditions for two weeks. This method forces the plant to grow in winter, and in the dark and in water, the chicories develop sugar to avoid freezing.

Depriving the plant of light discourages the development of chlorophyll, the green plant pigment responsible for color, and rids the chicory of an unpleasant flavor.

Andrea Ghedina, cofounder of the seed company Smarties.bio in Chioggia, the birthplace of the eponymous Chioggia radicchio, is a key figure in the modern understanding of these crops. Ghedina, a chicory savant, was identified as a primary expert by Lane Selman, an agricultural science professor at Oregon State University and coauthor of the newly published Radicchio: A Celebration of the Beloved Italian Vegetable. Selman assured that if anyone had chicories growing, Ghedina did.

On a warm bright day in May, Ghedina met a visitor for lunch at Cappello, in the town of Rosolina, about 20 miles south of Venice. Wearing a T-shirt reading “Bitter is Better,” the tall, bearded scientist assured his guest that they would eat all the chicories they wanted over the next few days.

Over massive plates of inky rice pebbled with sausage and ribbons of sweet radicchio di Treviso, Ghedina explained that chicories are a profoundly human creation, despite their ancient wild origins.

The challenge in breeding chicories lies in their preference for cross-pollination. While this creates diversity in nature, it makes it difficult for seed breeders to create uniform lines. As Pliny noted, left to their own devices, chicories grow low, leafy heads and quickly go to seed, their leaves becoming bitter. In downtown Chioggia, farmers had first made their fortunes growing radicchio in fields that stretch over rows the length of football fields.

Ghedina bred seeds specifically for summer harvest, resulting in, firm cylindrical heads of Treviso. Although summer-grown varieties can be more bitter than winter radicchio, they are stunning in quality. At Ghedina’s test fields, covering four or five acres, visitors encountered six, seven, or eight varieties of any single type. For Chioggia, the varieties include Vesuvio, Stromboli, Teide, Etna, Hekla, Santa Helena, Amiata, and Vulcano.

For Verona, a small head the shape of an egg, the varieties are Alpone, Pasqualino, Romeo, Gaia, and Scala. Each is designed to be planted and harvested under slightly different conditions.

The culinary application of these varieties was demonstrated at an osteria named Namelaka in the town of Campagna Lupia, where the name translates to something like “creamier than cream.” Chef Michael Trolese presented a bespoke five-course menu of radicchios to Ghedina and his guests. The first course was insalatina di variegato, featuring lightly dressed leaves of Castelfranco tossed with fried croutons, teardrops of fresh goat cheese, finely chopped egg, and toasted walnut.

The Castelfranco used had been stored for four months before being shorn of its outer leaves and fluffed for sale, emerging as a picture-perfect head. The salad was bright, lightly sweet, and immutably crunchy. Ghedina shared his preferred dressing, combining white wine, vinegar, soy sauce, and olive oil, stating, “I eat a head of radicchio like that every day. No lettuce.”

Further culinary insights were provided by Ghedina’s business partner, Luca, who recommended hazelnuts, Taggiasca olives, and balsamic vinegar specifically for Rosso di Verona. When asked about olive oil, he shook his head, specifying, “Just the oil from the olives, and no salt.” The second course, involtini di precoce, consisted of lightly cooked Treviso blanketed with Asiago cheese, wrapped in bacon, and roasted.

This dish highlighted a key characteristic of chicory: it does not wilt the way lettuce does when cooked but becomes sweeter, bringing to mind caramelized cabbage. This quality was further emphasized in a manzo alla tartara, a steak tartare served over concentrated Chioggia radicchio, cooked sous vide and sweetened with balsamico. The final course was another radicchio risotto, made with Tardivo and smoked provola fondue.

The fact that chicories may signal satiety through the release of GLP-1 makes them a subject of growing interest in both culinary and health contexts. The ability of the vegetable to trigger this hormonal response, combined with its high vitamin C content and complex flavor profile, positions it as a versatile ingredient for chefs and a valuable crop for farmers.

The detailed breeding programs in Chioggia, led by experts like Ghedina, ensure that specific varieties are available for different seasons and culinary uses, from raw salads to cooked preparations. The collaboration between agricultural scientists, seed breeders, and chefs continues to refine the production and presentation of chicories, ensuring that this ancient plant remains a central element in modern gastronomy.

The story of chicory is one of accidental discovery, deliberate cultivation, and culinary appreciation, bridging the gap between historical agriculture and contemporary food science.