June 01, 2007
I reached the age of 20 before learning how much I truly hated Cilantro. That was the year I began a job as a waiter at Casa Gallardo Grill at the Galleria in St. Louis. In the morning, the chefs would put huge bales of cilantro in an immense food processor and chop it up for all their hateful cilantro-laden dishes they'd be preparing throughout the day. I couldn't even be in the kitchen when this horrid abomination took place, and to this day even (especially) the smell of the devil herb makes me sick.