How to Grow Cilantro: The Herb That Divides Nations and Gardens Alike

I've been growing cilantro for nearly two decades, and I still remember the first time I watched an entire crop bolt to seed in what felt like minutes. Standing there in my garden, staring at those delicate white flowers where my leafy herbs should have been, I realized this plant had its own agenda – one that didn't necessarily align with my salsa-making plans.

Cilantro, or coriander as it's known in most of the world outside North America, is perhaps the most temperamental herb you'll ever attempt to grow. It's also one of the most rewarding when you get it right. The thing about cilantro is that it doesn't just grow; it performs. And like any good performer, it needs the right stage, timing, and conditions to truly shine.

The Peculiar Nature of This Polarizing Plant

Before we dig into the soil, let's address the elephant in the garden: some people think cilantro tastes like soap. If you're one of them, you might be wondering why you're even reading this. But here's something interesting – I've known several gardeners who couldn't stand store-bought cilantro but found their homegrown variety surprisingly palatable. There's something about the freshness, the milder flavor profile of young leaves, or perhaps just the satisfaction of growing it yourself that can change perspectives.

Cilantro belongs to the Apiaceae family, making it cousins with carrots, parsley, and dill. But unlike its well-behaved relatives, cilantro has a rebellious streak. It's what we call a cool-season annual, which sounds simple enough until you realize that "cool season" means different things depending on where you live. In Phoenix, that might be December. In Minneapolis, it could be May or September. This plant has taught me more about microclimates than any gardening book ever could.

Starting From Seed: The Only Real Way

Now, I know garden centers sell cilantro transplants, and I've bought my share over the years. But after countless disappointments – plants that bolted within days of planting, roots so tangled they never properly established – I've become somewhat of a cilantro seed evangelist. This herb has a taproot that despises disturbance. When you transplant cilantro, you're essentially starting a countdown clock to bolting.

The seeds themselves are fascinating little spheres, technically fruits containing two seeds each. I learned this the hard way when I first started growing cilantro and couldn't understand why my germination rates were so inconsistent. Some gardeners crush them lightly or soak them overnight to speed germination. I've tried both methods, and honestly, the difference is marginal. What matters more is patience – cilantro seeds can take anywhere from 7 to 20 days to germinate, depending on temperature and moisture.

Here's my approach: I plant seeds about a quarter-inch deep, spacing them more densely than the packet suggests. Cilantro actually grows better in crowds – the plants shade each other's roots and create a microclimate that delays bolting. I've had beds where I scattered seeds almost like I was seasoning a dish, and those always outperformed my carefully spaced rows.

Soil Secrets Nobody Talks About

Most guides will tell you cilantro needs "well-draining soil" and leave it at that. But after years of growing this herb in different conditions, I've discovered it's pickier than that generic advice suggests. Cilantro thrives in soil with a pH between 6.2 and 6.8 – slightly acidic to neutral. I learned this after struggling with cilantro in a bed where I'd previously grown brassicas and had limed heavily.

The texture matters too. While cilantro doesn't want waterlogged roots, it also doesn't appreciate sandy soil that dries out quickly. I've had my best success with loamy soil amended with compost. But here's the kicker – too much nitrogen, which we gardeners often equate with lush growth, can actually work against you with cilantro. High nitrogen levels seem to trigger earlier bolting. I've noticed this particularly when using fresh manure or blood meal.

The Temperature Tango

If there's one thing that will make or break your cilantro crop, it's temperature. This plant starts thinking about flowering the moment temperatures consistently hit 75°F. But it's not just about air temperature – soil temperature plays a huge role too. I've extended my cilantro season by weeks simply by mulching heavily to keep the soil cool.

In my garden, I've developed what I call the "cilantro calendar," which has nothing to do with actual dates and everything to do with observing natural cues. When the daffodils bloom, it's time for the first sowing. When the tomatoes start setting fruit, it's too late for spring cilantro but perfect for planning the fall crop. When the leaves start turning, I sow my final succession of the year.

The most productive cilantro I ever grew was during an unusually cool, cloudy spring. The plants stayed in their vegetative stage for nearly three months – unheard of in my usual experience. It taught me that light intensity matters almost as much as temperature. In midsummer, even if temperatures are manageable, the intense sun triggers bolting. That's why cilantro often does better with some afternoon shade in warmer climates.

Watering: The Goldilocks Principle

Cilantro's water needs embody the Goldilocks principle – not too much, not too little, but just right. The challenge is that "just right" changes as the plant grows. Young seedlings need consistent moisture to germinate and establish. I water gently every day or two until I see the first true leaves.

Once established, I shift to deeper, less frequent watering. The goal is to encourage that taproot to dive deep. But – and this is crucial – I never let the soil dry out completely. Drought stress is like hitting the fast-forward button on bolting. I've watched cilantro go from leafy to flowery in a matter of days after a missed watering during a heat wave.

My watering technique has evolved over the years. I used to overhead water, but I noticed this led to more fungal issues, especially in humid weather. Now I use drip irrigation or water at the base of the plants. The leaves stay dry, and I can deliver water more precisely where it's needed.

The Art of Succession Planting

If you want a continuous supply of cilantro, you need to think like a TV producer scheduling shows. Just as one crop starts to mature, another should be coming up behind it. I sow new seeds every 2-3 weeks during the appropriate seasons. This sounds excessive until you realize how quickly cilantro goes from harvest-ready to flowering.

But here's where it gets interesting – not all successions are created equal. The plantings I make in early spring, when days are still short and temperatures cool, might last 6-8 weeks before bolting. The same variety planted in late spring might bolt in 3-4 weeks. I've learned to adjust my succession timing accordingly, planting more frequently as the season progresses.

Harvesting: Timing Is Everything

The way you harvest cilantro can significantly impact how long your plants produce. I used to snip individual leaves, thinking I was being gentle. Then I learned about apical dominance – when you cut the main growing tip, it encourages bushier growth and can actually delay flowering.

Now I harvest by cutting entire stems about an inch above the soil level, focusing on the outer stems first. This encourages new growth from the center and creates a denser plant. I start harvesting when plants are about 6 inches tall, and I'm not shy about it. You can harvest up to 75% of the plant at once, and it will regrow if conditions are right.

Morning harvesting has become my ritual. The leaves are turgid with moisture, and the essential oils are at their peak. I've done side-by-side taste tests with cilantro harvested at different times of day, and morning-cut cilantro consistently has more flavor and better texture.

When Bolting Becomes Inevitable

Despite our best efforts, cilantro will eventually bolt. It's not a failure; it's the plant completing its life cycle. When I see that first flower stalk starting to elongate, I know I have a choice to make. I can pull the plant and start fresh, or I can let it flower and set seed.

These days, I usually let at least some plants complete their cycle. The flowers attract beneficial insects – I've counted over a dozen species of tiny wasps and flies on a single flowering cilantro plant. Plus, the green seeds (harvested before they dry) have an intense flavor that's incredible in cooking. And of course, the dried seeds are coriander, a spice in their own right.

Varieties: Beyond the Basic

For years, I grew whatever generic cilantro seed I could find. Then I discovered there's a whole world of varieties, each with its own personality. 'Slow Bolt' lives up to its name, giving me an extra week or two of harvest. 'Calypso' has become my go-to for fall planting. 'Confetti' has feathery leaves that some say taste milder – perfect for cilantro skeptics.

But the real game-changer for me was discovering culantro (Eryngium foetidum), cilantro's tropical cousin. It tastes similar but thrives in heat and doesn't bolt. In my summer garden, when true cilantro is impossible, culantro fills the gap. It's not the same – the leaves are tougher, the flavor more intense – but it scratches that cilantro itch when nothing else will.

The Companion Planting Puzzle

I've experimented extensively with companion planting for cilantro, and the results have been mixed. The classic advice pairs cilantro with tomatoes, claiming it repels aphids. In my experience, the cilantro is usually long gone by the time tomato aphids become a problem. What has worked is interplanting cilantro with cool-season crops like lettuce and spinach. They have similar water and temperature needs, and the cilantro's eventual flowers attract predators that control aphids on the greens.

One unexpected success has been planting cilantro near my brassicas. The timing works perfectly – as the cilantro bolts and flowers, it attracts parasitic wasps that help control cabbage worms. It's become part of my regular rotation, though I make sure to adjust soil pH accordingly.

Container Growing: A Viable Alternative

Not everyone has garden space, and cilantro actually does reasonably well in containers. The key is choosing the right pot – at least 8 inches deep to accommodate that taproot. I've had success with window boxes, placing them where they get morning sun but afternoon shade.

Container-grown cilantro needs more attention to watering, as pots dry out faster than garden soil. But there's an advantage: when temperatures spike, you can move containers to a cooler spot. I've extended my cilantro season by weeks simply by relocating pots to a shadier location as summer approaches.

The Philosophy of Growing Cilantro

After all these years, cilantro has taught me to work with nature rather than against it. This isn't a plant you can force to behave. It's going to bolt when it wants to bolt. But by understanding its needs and rhythms, by planting at the right times and creating the right conditions, you can enjoy fresh cilantro for much of the year.

There's something meditative about accepting cilantro's ephemeral nature. Each plant is temporary, but the cycle continues. Seeds fall, volunteers appear in unexpected places, and suddenly you have cilantro growing in the cracks of your patio. It's a reminder that gardening isn't about control – it's about partnership.

I still lose cilantro crops to unexpected heat waves. I still occasionally buy those garden center transplants, knowing full well they'll bolt within the week. But I also harvest armfuls of fresh, aromatic leaves from my own garden, and that makes all the challenges worthwhile. Because when you finally crack the code of growing cilantro in your particular spot, with your specific conditions, it feels like you've joined an exclusive club of gardeners who've mastered one of the trickiest herbs in the garden.

Authoritative Sources:

Morales, Mario R., and Jeff Simon. "Cilantro: A Promising Specialty Crop for Louisiana." Louisiana Agriculture, vol. 41, no. 4, 1998, pp. 20-21.

Diederichsen, Axel. Coriander (Coriandrum sativum L.). International Plant Genetic Resources Institute, 1996.

Small, Ernest. Culinary Herbs. 2nd ed., NRC Research Press, 2006.

Tucker, Arthur O., and Thomas DeBaggio. The Encyclopedia of Herbs: A Comprehensive Reference to Herbs of Flavor and Fragrance. Timber Press, 2009.

Rubatzky, Vincent E., and Mas Yamaguchi. World Vegetables: Principles, Production, and Nutritive Values. 2nd ed., Chapman & Hall, 1997.