As I dropped a bunch of cilantro into a sink full of soapy water tonight, I almost said to myself, “How ironic!” I quickly realized that soap-covered cilantro is not ironic – merely humorously coincidental. You know, because of the “cilantro tastes like soap” thing.
No clue?
Then you’ve obviously never tasted cilantro.
Cilantro is a leafy green herb that figures prominently in Southeast Asian and Latin American cuisine (it’s what gives salsa that fresh grass-like aroma and taste), and Americans either love it or hate it. I fall squarely into the “love it” camp. I buy it almost every week, and search for recipes in which to use it. Hummus, melon salsa, chopped and tossed in with salad greens…
Those who love it don’t give a second thought, but those who hate it think it tastes like soap or hand lotion. And they will tell you all about it – haters seem to be quite vocal about their aversion. There are several cilantro-hater blogs out there, as well as an a couple of Facebook pages dedicated to…well, to hating it.
Better than Farmville, I suppose.
Even people that you think must love everything hate it – including Julia Child. Larry King interviewed Julia back in 2002, and asked her what foods she hated. The exchange:
JC: Cilantro and arugula I don’t like at all. They’re both green herbs, they have kind of a dead taste to me.
LK: So you would never order it?
JC: Never. I would pick it out if I saw it and throw it on the floor.
Why do some people love cilantro and some people think it tastes like soap? Is it something to do with our taste buds? Anatomy? Physiology? Evolution? Geography? Chemistry?
Harold McGee, preeminent food scientist and author of the food chemist’s bible: “On Food and Cooking”, did a brief interview on a recent episode of The Splendid Table, and provided a fascinatingly satisfactory scientific explanation for cilantro revulsion: it’s all about the aldehydes, my friends. Isn’t it always?
Chemistry first. Turns out, the molecules that give soap and hand lotion their distinctive odor are the same ones that give cilantro its flavor – aldehydes. Aldehydes are the byproduct of soap-making (called “saponification”), a process which breaks down large fat molecules into smaller fragments using strong chemicals, leaving behind the distinctively odoriferous aldehydes.
And then, evolution comes in. Followed by conditioning, and finally, acceptance.
I’d explain it, but McGee does a much better job, plus I’m the one who ended my career as a chemist because I thought it was boring. You can listen to the interview here.
And tell me, on which side of the cilantro fence do you fall?
Life at Goal 
I’m not a big fan, but I don’t hate it. I’ll eat it if it’s in something, but i won’t use it if I’m cooking.
LOVE IT! And may I suggest, instead of wasting your money buying it every week… grow it. I have a pot on my kitchen window. It grows like a weed. My favorite use? Try it in an omelet with scallions and cheddar and salsa. Or better yet chop it fine and add it into soft butter, then use on fresh roasted corn. Yum!
I have some in my herb box on the deck, but it doesn’t grow well in the shady, dusty microclimate of my “back yard” (I use quotes because it’s really just a deck with a 30-foot dropoff behind it). Basil and rosemary do great, parsley and cilantro do not thrive. 😦
When I get a house with a real yard someday, you better believe there will be a kitchen garden out there – with every kind of herb you can imagine.
Excellent. I’ve also been known to freeze cilantro from the summer (or the HUGE bunches from a supermarket). I chop it, mix with a little water and poor into ice cube trays sprayed with non-stick cooking spray. Freeze, then throw into a freezer bag. Perfect serving sizes to brighten up your food any time.
Love it. A taco isn’t a taco without some diced onion and cilantro.
Hm. I hate tacos. But I agree in theory.
I could eat a giant bowl of tomatoes, cilantro and red onion…the more cilantro, the better.
And I don’t know if I entirely buy the genetics thing, I’m almost entirely of Northern European background, and I love it–and yeah, I can detect the “soapy” taste.