I hate cilantro!

Friday, I was out in the afternoon doing dreaded hills (9 of them). Why do I end up doing the most difficult session on my own?? I wanted to quit about 100 times in that two hours. On one of the repeats, at the halfway point on the hill, I caught a whiff of – could it be? – cilantro or similar tangy spice. As much as I despise that vile herb, it was something to look forward to. Who knew it would set the scene….

Saturday, I was at Bombay Bhel on East Hastings and ordered biryani – didn’t want to be regretting rich and creamy butter chicken curry during the next morning’s 18K – and I forgot to ask them to hold the cilantro. The otherwise tasty chicken biryani with had chopped cilantro laced with the rice. =S

Sunday, we were at Banana Leaf in Kitsilano and I ordered the spicy papaya seafood soup with (YUM) roti. Since I had not encountered that dreadful herb at Banana Leaf before, it never occurred to me to ask. Fortunately it wasn’t chopped; unfortunately the flavour had infused in the broth. Sigh.

This herb that never turned up in mum’s cooking and infrequently in Cantonese dishes – I learned early on which traditional dim sum orders to avoid – it could be the world’s most-used herb in cooking as it appears generously in Vietnamese, Indian, Mexican, and other Chinese cuisine that I’ve encountered.

It baffled me how some people cannot even taste it. I can recognize it even in small quantities and can choke it down but would rather pick it out. At the other end of the spectrum, Lil’ Sis is remarkably sensitive to it even after picking it out. NPY doesn’t mind it too much but, oh, does he have to rectify his breath before he approaches me afterwards!

On this day..