November 23, 2012
Cilantro is the reason for my trust issues. I used to love cilantro. Cilantro understood me like nobody else. When I didn't care, cilantro was there. When I was alone, cilantro was there. I loved it and it loved me. But then.
It was a usual day at the restaurant. The lunch rush, the lack of customers, then the dinner rush. The chef was cooking his special, a customer favorite in fact, rice, beans, and cheese. He baked it and added a wonderful mix of things.
He was chopping left and right, here and there. He had to separate batches, rice, beans, and cheese on one side, and some more on the other side. The only thing left to chop was the cilantro. He chopped the two entire cilantro heads and accidentally, or so they say, put BOTH ENTIRE CHOPPED CILANTRO HEADS INTO ONE MIXTURE! He baked it all together, and served it to all the customers that night. It was utter mayhem. The screaming, the crying, the twerking. The cilantro going every where! I went home and cried for two days straight. And every May 15th, I close all the shades in my house and go under the covers and cry. I will never trust a cousin of celery again.