February 10, 2011
I've lived in a lot of different cities and states, and in Germany, and I've visited a lot of other places, so I have tried a many different regional cuisines. But my husband and I finally settled in south Texas, where cilantro is put into just about every dish you can think of, food that would otherwise be delicious. Everyone I know cooks with it, and so many things I have made to share with others have been commented on like this: "It's really good, but it could use more cilantro."
For years I went along, thinking maybe something was wrong with me. But then I remembered that when I cooked Louisiana foods for people up north, they thought there was too much cayenne in them, even when I had reduced the amount in deference to their virginal tongues and my husband and I could not taste it. Those people openly expressed their dislike for something we believed necessary to the dishes, and remembering that, I was inspired to do the same.
I'm free now, liberated from the horrible herb. While remaining polite about other people's cooking, I am no longer afraid to say, loudly and proudly, that I hate cilantro. I do not allow it into my kitchen, and I give it a wide berth in the marketplaces. Cilantro is, now and forever, dead to me.