June 18, 2011
I never knew what made the food taste so bad. I just knew that mum's frittata (sp?) smelled like cheese and fresh veg but tasted like no other horrible taste with the possible exception of when gran would make me wash my mouth out with soap when I said something bad. It was awful and I refused to put it in my mouth. Nothing else my mother made tasted bad, so it puzzled me. The scent of cheese had stifled the cilantro, and being 11, I never understood the cilantro debate.
My next encounter was at Qdoba, a Mexy-type fast food place that is a classier version of Taco Bell. Their corn salsa looked so good, and from behind the glass I couldn't smell it. It tasted like dirty socks, soap, and corn. I couldn't figure out what made it look so good and taste so awful, until I picked out the little bits of green and ate one. It was like eating dish liquid. I spat it out as fast as I could while my boyfriend looked at me like I was insane. "How can you hate cilantro"? "That's what that awful stuff is?! Ugh!" I'd heard of it, but it wasn't a part of my or my mother's cooking, so I hadn't encountered it before (except when she bought it for frittata, I later discovered). I shot back, "You hate watermelon and cucumber you crazy person. I am allowed to hate this horror on my plate." I hated it so much that I'd pick it out of things just to avoid it. Indian food, which I love, I had to request without the awful stuff. If I ever forgot to, I was sorry. Now that I know other people out there are "crazy" like me, I feel better. But I will certainly never condemn anyone for being different from me, especially if it were genetic. Otherwise, isn't that like being racist? It's just a food- there aren't many sillier things to fight about.