March 07, 2014
It was mid-afternoon on a pleasantly warm June afternoon in 1992. My older brother and his weird friend had invited me and my cousin to the nearby larger town to shop and have lunch at "this awesome
Thai cafe" that had just opened.
We were all having fun, I bought a book that I had wanted to read for ages, and I was looking forward to trying spring rolls for lunch.
At the time I was a junior in high school and loved trying new types of food. That was my thing...always ordering menu items that I had never tried. Going to new cafes, etc.
The Thai place smelled heavenly...and I placed my order for shrimp spring rolls.
We had a grand time talking and people watching. Then the waitress delivered a plate that I have not been able to purge from my memory.
I took a big forkful of spring roll and tasted the front edge of the steaming multi-colored food.
I started to salivate profusely, my throat felt numb and tasted of dishsoap/medicine.
I swallowed the food fast, but the flavor was firmly entrenched in my mouth, sinuses, and soul.
My brother's weird friend started laughing and pointing at me as my eyes watered. I swilled water, pop, tea in an attempt to purge my palate of cilantro's ubiquitous hatefulness.
I hate cilantro.