November 22, 2012
When I was twelve years old, I was forced to chew and swallow 3/4 of a cilantro containing dish because a well-intentioned family friend had spent $10 on this entree. Aghast and glossy-eyed, I stopped inhaling air as I chewed 10 specks of this soapy plant; even after I finished 3/4 of this meal, this plant's soapy, pungent flavor never lost its ugly taste. Call me subservient, but I felt that it was my duty as the eldest child to enjoy cilantro.
Years later, our family dined at a Vietnamese restaurant. My thirteen-year-old brother's eyes flew open and watered as soon as he inhaled a spoonful of cilantro-infested pho broth. My heart trembled and my eyes empathically longed into his; this cultural rite of passage is painful, and I sympathized agonizingly with my aghast and dear younger brother as he vigilantly finished his cilantro-infested bowl of pho. Why must we maintain this cruel rite of passage? It is VILE and MALIGNANT!!!!!!!!!!!!!