Penglai Rice: How a Grain Rewrote Taiwan's Century of Agriculture and Dining Landscape

30-Second Overview: The 1918 Japanese rice unrest pushed the empire's food anxiety onto Taiwan; Iso Nagichi, who arrived in 1912, Suei Nagito, who entered the Chiayi farm earlier, and the rice merchant Li Pengyi, who was willing to take market risks, successively transformed Japanese Japonica rice—which was originally unsuited for Taiwan's plains—into Penglai Rice, which could be grown, harvested, and eaten as a daily staple by Taiwanese people. Taichung No. 65, introduced in 1929, became a crucial framework for many subsequent Taiwanese Japonica breeding efforts. This history is an intersection of agricultural science, colonial economy, local commerce, and culinary taste.^{1 2 3}

Luye Rice Fields, photographed by Jun Jie Yam (Wikimedia Commons User YJJcoolcool), CC BY 4.0; File Page/License Terms.⁴ The image shows the modern rice landscape, not a historical photo of Penglai Rice breeding history.

Starting with a Rice Unrest

In August 1918, fisherwomen from a village in Toyama Prefecture, Japan, protested at the door of rice merchants due to soaring rice prices and the inability of their labor income to buy enough rice for their families. The demand—"Do not ship the rice elsewhere"—spread from the local level into a nationwide Japanese rice unrest, eventually leading to the resignation of the cabinet. This social movement caused the Japanese government to more intensely pursue food self-sufficiency within the empire and accelerated policies for increasing colonial rice production and variety improvement.¹

This is not a story that proceeds in a straight line from Japanese policy to Taiwanese dinner plates. The Japanese were accustomed to eating short-grain, highly glutinous Japonica rice. The indigenous varieties commonly eaten by Taiwanese people were long-grain, which tended to be looser when cooked. The colonial government desired high yields from Taiwan and wanted these grains to meet the tastes of the Japanese market; thus, "increasing production" and "changing grain quality" became two sides of the same agricultural plan.^{1 5}

📝 Curator's Note: A social movement far away was not just influencing food prices, but possibly also setting the standard for what constitutes a good meal on another island.

Iso Nagichi Did Not Find Blank Land

In 1912, Iso Nagichi arrived in Taiwan and began work at the Municipal Government Agricultural Experiment Station. Prior to this, the Governor's Office had tested over one hundred varieties of Japanese rice, but Japanese rice showed unstable reactions to Taiwan’s high temperature, humidity, and sunlight; it often headed too early or too late, making large-scale cultivation on the plains difficult. Iso Nagichi later dealt with the debate between "improving existing indigenous varieties" and "introducing Japanese Japonica rice," using grain classification and variety comparison.^{1 2}

Iso Nagichi's research was not about transplanting "Japanese rice" wholesale to Taiwan. He found that Japanese varieties had low grain setting rates in Taiwan, which was related to short flowering periods and pollination rates affected by high temperatures and humidity. In 1914, he screened superior Taiwanese rice lines using Mendelian genetics and pure line separation methods, extending his research focus to the Taichung Agricultural Experiment Station.²

Suei Nagito arrived in Taiwan even earlier than Iso Nagichi. This technician from a farm family in Fukuoka, Japan, had been working on rice improvement at the Chiayi Farm since 1910. In 1914, he moved to the Taichung Provincial Experimental Farm, where he was responsible for rice hybridization and field cultivation. PanSci's research reports described the two as "head-to-shoulder" collaborators: Iso Nagichi organized varieties and theory, while Suei Nagito spent long hours observing seedlings and panicles in the experimental fields.¹

Tucheng: From Mountain Indigenous Cultivation to the Plains

In 1921, Takeichiro Hirazawa, Director of Agriculture for Taipei Prefecture, noticed that Japanese rice growing in Lake Chikuko on Mount Yangmingshan performed exceptionally well. The climate and enclosed terrain of Lake Chikuko were similar to Kyushu, Japan, making it suitable for isolating different varieties and maintaining genetic purity. This area later became the indigenous cultivation site for Penglai Rice, connecting variety preservation with field breeding.^{1 6}

In 1923, Suei Nagito proposed a seedling transplanting method that shortened the nursery period from about two months to about one month, thereby changing the plant's growth cycle and reducing the problem of early heading in Japanese Japonica rice due to sunlight and climate in Taiwan. This meant that Nakamura Rice could no longer be confined to special mountain environments but had a chance to move to the Taiwanese plains.^{2 7}

This turning point shows that breeding is not just about "changing genes" or "selecting new varieties." The transplanting time, seedling size, field elevation, isolation methods, and whether farmers could operate according to the methods can all determine whether a rice plant can transition from an experimental plot to an industry crop.

The Name Penglai Rice and the Vulnerability of Nakamura Rice

In 1926, Japonica rice produced in Taiwan was named "Penglai Rice" at the nineteenth Japan Rice Association meeting. The name was derived from the mythical Mount Penglai, packaging an agricultural product improved in Taiwan but originating from introduced Japanese Japonica rice as a symbol of Taiwanese abundance.^{1 7}

But naming did not equal success. In the same year, Penglai Rice suffered from rice blast, leading to poor harvests. The research team continued to improve it in directions such as wide cultivation, high yield, salt and pest resistance, and disease resistance. For rice grown well in the indigenous fields to become a crop that farmers were willing to commit to, stability and marketability were also required.¹

The Great Depression of 1927 caused rice prices to fall, reducing the incentive for farmers to plant Penglai Rice. Li Pengyi, a merchant from Changhua Flower Garden, pledged to purchase based on planted area at this time, not solely on that year's harvest quality. Losses from rice blast, drought, and typhoons led his milling factory to be idle for nearly three years. It was only after the improved harvests in 1929 that this commercial commitment truly gained farmers' trust in Penglai Rice.¹

Ruishui Rice Fields and Mountains, photographed by Marek Slusarczyk (Wikimedia Commons User Tupungato), CC BY 3.0; File Page/License Terms.⁸ The image is a freely licensed hotlink, not downloaded or rehosted.

Taichung No. 65: A Variety Becomes an Agricultural Framework

In 1929, Iso Nagichi and Suei Nagito selected Taichung No. 65 through the cross-breeding of Kuchi and Shenli. Research reports from the Academia Sinica pointed out that it possessed resistance to rice blast and a double harvest capability, with the key factor being its less sensitivity to day length. University of Taiwan news sources claimed it was an ancestor of about eighty percent of modern Taiwanese Japonica rice.^{2 3}

Different sources had statistical discrepancies exceeding 80% and 85% regarding descendants, so a single number should not be stated as an undisputed precise ratio. A more cautious conclusion is that Taichung No. 65 was not a commemorative variety in the history of Penglai Rice, but rather the framework for many subsequent Taiwanese Japonica breeding efforts.

Genetic research from the Academia Sinica made this framework even more complex. Besides the genes from Kuchi and Shenli, Taichung No. 65 also carried genetic components from mountain landrace rice Muteka and Nakabo. This should be presented as a research finding, not directly inferred as "Penglai Rice is indigenous rice." It truly demonstrates that variety formation is often a result of human selection, natural gene flow, and local environmental interaction.³

The photoperiodic insensitivity of Taichung No. 65 also has a molecular explanation. The research team pointed out that the Hd1 gene on its sixth chromosome carries an extra sequence, causing this gene to lose its original function in regulating heading and flowering. Consequently, the rice does not have to strictly follow the day length rhythm of Japanese varieties; it can consistently head and set grain in both the first and second crop environments in Taiwan.³

Technical Success Cannot Erase Colonial Economy

Penglai Rice improved grain quality, yield, and market value, leading to the establishment of experimental stations, indigenous fields, and variety management systems. The Agricultural Ministry's century review divided this path into several stages: early adaptation to environment, post-war focus on stable and high yields, a shift toward taste and specialty in the 1980s, and incorporating climate resilience, molecular marker assisted selection, and sustainable cultivation from the 2010s onward.⁷

Post-war rice breeding was not an extension of the Japanese colonial period. The Agricultural Ministry review records that Tainan No. 1, Jia'nong No. 242, and later Taiwan Agricultural No. 67 responded to new issues such as disease resistance, stable yields, lodging resistance, and mechanical harvesting. In the 1980s, varieties like Taiwan Japonica No. 9 reflected consumer demands for taste and quality.⁷

However, agricultural science during the colonial period cannot be written solely as "the starting point of Taiwanese modernization." Research indicates that while the Japanese colonial government's variety improvement, experimental stations, and irrigation construction increased productivity, it also integrated Taiwan into an economic structure supplying Japan with food and raw materials, deepening resource distribution inequality and social stratification.⁹

Another study reminds us that the shift in Taiwanese rice preferences—from mountain landrace rice and indigenous varieties to Penglai Rice—cannot be explained only by population migration. Colonial policy, agricultural technology, and sensory standards of "good taste" were all interacting factors.⁵

Therefore, Penglai Rice can simultaneously be a technical achievement and a colonial legacy. It allowed many families to eat glutinous rice that better matched the mainstream preferences of the time, while also integrating Taiwanese agriculture more deeply into the imperial food system. To delete either aspect is not history, but a one-dimensional narrative of achievement.

📝 Curator's Note: A grain does not have to choose between "progress" and "oppression"; what truly needs explanation is who gained what from it, and who bore the cost.

From Post-War High Yields to Today's Precision Breeding

The story of Penglai Rice did not end in 1929. Post-war population growth, irrigation construction, chemical fertilizers, and rural labor migration led breeding goals to gradually shift toward disease resistance, lodging resistance, high yield, and suitability for mechanization. Agricultural Ministry data mentions that Tainan No. 67, bred in 1978, was an important variety for high yield, lodging resistance, and mechanical harvesting.⁷

From the 1980s onward, Taiwan began asking not just "how much can one hectare yield," but also "how good does it taste when cooked." Taiwan Japonica No. 9 and later fragrant rice and specialty varieties reflected the transition of rice from a commodity for food security to a food item with unique land characteristics, branding, and sensory differences. After joining the WTO in 2002, market competition and import pressure made variety differentiation even more important.⁷

In the 2010s, climate change introduced high temperatures, extreme rainfall, pests and diseases, and water resources as new breeding conditions. Molecular marker assisted selection, precision fertilization, drone monitoring, and eco-friendly cultivation are transforming early experimental "observation" into more precise data work. This does not mean farmers are no longer important; rather, field experience, genetic, climatic, and management data are placed within the same decision-making framework.⁷

From "High Yield" to "A Name You Can Taste"

Tainan No. 67 can represent the stage of post-war rice moving from food security toward mechanization. The Agricultural Knowledge Portal records that its breeding goals after the 1960s were lodging resistance and high yield; it was robust, widely adaptable, and suitable for mechanical harvesting. Between 1979 and 1998, it was one of Taiwan's most widely cultivated varieties, accounting for over seventy percent at one point.¹⁰

This variety’s success differs significantly from the story of Taichung No. 65: early breeding first needed to keep Japonica rice alive in Taiwan; post-war breeding needed a large amount of rice to yield stably under conditions of reduced labor, increased fertilizer use, and mechanization. Rice transitioned from an object of imperial food policy to an issue of national food security and agricultural productivity after the war.

By the 1980s, the market began asking another question: does the rice have a clearer taste, aroma, and origin? Taiwan Japonica No. 9 was bred by Hsu Chih-sheng and later became an important high-quality variety in the Taiwanese market. Taiwan Guanghua records that varieties like Taichung No. 194 and Tainan No. 16 put variety names, taste, and branding before consumers.¹¹

This transformation changed the language of "good rice." Previously, the question was how much could be harvested per acre; later, it began to ask about starch chain length, stickiness, aroma, suitability for porridge or onigiri, and whether consumers were willing to pay more for variety and origin. Rice was no longer just nameless white staple food but began to have a recognizable flavor profile, like tea and coffee.

The variety list from the Tainan District Agricultural Improvement Center shows this path is still extending: Tainan No. 11 was introduced in 2004, emphasizing grain quality and yield; Tainan No. 16 was completed using molecular marker assisted selection with cooperation from NTU in 2012; Tainan No. 19 incorporated water conservation, disease resistance, and low heart rate into breeding goals; and Tainan No. 21 is a brewing rice introduced in 2024.¹²

The significance of molecular marker assisted selection is not to make breeding an engineering process that can be completed by pressing a button. Taiwan Guanghua records that Tainan No. 16 was bred through the cross between Yueguang Rice and Tainan No. 67, reducing the development time to six years through marker selection.¹¹ However, new varieties must still return to experimental fields for multiple tests against climate, soil, pests, farmer operation, and market taste. The laboratory accelerated screening but did not replace the final judgment of the field.

Memories of Lake Chikuko, Iso's Hut, and a Bowl of Rice

Nakamura Rice later disappeared in Taiwan but was reintroduced to the fields of Lake Chikuko in 2016 through seeds preserved by the Department of Agriculture at NTU and the National Institute of Genetics in Japan. Public Television reports documented the re-cultivation, indigenous field, and local elders, as well as the landscape change where Lake Chikuko later shifted toward flowers and leisure agriculture.⁶

Iso Nagichi's hut on the NTU campus preserves another memory. In 2003, Liu Jianfu discovered manuscripts and instruments left by Iso Nagichi inside the house, making a nearly forgotten laboratory an entrance to Taiwanese agricultural history. Public Television also reported in 2016 about the woven mud walls, rain shields, and damaged windows of the hut, reminding people: the research base for a bowl of rice can be buried by daily life even faster than the meal itself.^{6 13 14}

Penglai Rice later entered bento boxes, zongzi (rice dumplings), onigiri, and home cooking. Existing food articles often ask how much rice Taiwanese people eat today. The history of Penglai Rice asks another question: why do we consider a certain type of rice to be "normal food"? The answer lies not only in taste but also in the experimental stations, the colonial market, farmer commitment, commercial purchasing, post-war policies, and the habits of several generations.

When you open the rice cooker today, the aroma seems like a naturally fallen daily routine, but it is not. It passed through the failures of researchers, Suei Nagito's repeated experiments in the field, Li Pengyi's commitment to purchase from farmers, the post-war breeders' pursuit of disease resistance and high yield, and the way Taiwanese people have eaten Japonica rice bite by bite until it became their own flavor.

What is most worth remembering about Penglai Rice is not its purity, but that it allows us to see: the Taiwanese taste can be a result repeatedly tested, failed at, adjusted, and finally claimed by people on new land.

References