April 17, 2006
I am from Buenos Aires, Argentina. Back in 1989, Cilantro was an almost exotic thing to know about here, but I happened to live for half a year in Bogotá, Colombia, and stumble upon this kitchen plague. I must say that it took me a long while to find that there was something wrong with the taste of every dish, because they actually tasted all alike. One day I rounded my hypothesis that it had something to do with the green pieces that looked like parsley albeit they were not actually parsley. So I asked.
To eat in Bogotá became an ordeal. I began to hate cilantro more and more each day until I started begging the waiters please please please to bring my meal without it. Colombians think it is a heavenly gift, and my petition made me a dangerous person. By month 4 I was like mad.
One day I was brought the same dish of soup with cilantro three times. No one at the table seemed to understand my rage, but I must have heard a voice or something, for I just walked out the restaurant and went home to swear revenge.
This IS kind of revenge, to know that there´s a group of people commited to fight cilantro and vanish it from the face of the Earth, like smallpox.
Here in Buenos Aires everyone´s is merrily innocent of the danger outside, but it´s me here to watch.
And in my opinion it tastes like soap.