Feb 17, 2009

A Cilantro Discussion

bunch of cilantro
Who knew? An interesting article in yesterday's Wall Street Journal revealed that many people actually hate cilantro enough that they start or join anti-cilantro organizations. There's a Facebook networking site with nearly 900 members called "I HATE CILANTRO," and Facebook hosts 40 other sites dedicated to hating that herb. The website has 2577 members as of this morning, and sports this tagline: "Cilantro. The most offensive food known to man." Blogger itself hosts a hate-cilantro blog, although it's pretty tongue-in-cheek. But then I can't help but think most of this anti-cilantro stuff is pretty tongue-in-cheek.

Except for the stories that seem...well, a bit unhinged. The WSJ article discusses a Chicago man who bought a takeout burrito after work and drove it 20 miles home. When he finally bit into it and discovered cilantro, he grew so inflamed that he jumped in his car, drove 20 miles back to the restaurant, "raised hell," and demanded another burrito free of cilantro. You've got to admit: that's a bit extreme. Why didn't he just pull out the cilantro? Another person cited in the article ordered a home-delivered burrito with no cilantro. Discovering cilantro on the first bite, he or she tossed the entire burrito across the living room in a fit of pique.

Other people make more reasonable protests, like the woman who ordered Manhattan clam chowder in a restaurant and found it flavored with cilantro. As she wrote in her own anti-cilantro blog: "I thought to myself: 'No, it couldn't be. Really. Is this a joke? Who puts cilantro in Manhattan clam chowder?' " Personally, I like cilantro in many things, but I have to agree with her here: it doesn't belong in Manhattan clam chowder.

Also known as coriander, cilantro is a staple flavoring in Asian, South American, and other world cuisines. It's been in use by humans for a long time---found in the tomb of Tutankhamun, mentioned in Exodus, and cultivated in ancient Greece. With such a history, one could actually think of it as a "noble herb."

It has a strong scent, and apparently that's the problem. Dr. Charles J. Wysocki, a behavioral neuroscientist at Philadelphia's Monell Chemical Senses Center, which conducts research into taste and smell, speculated to the WSJ that "dislike of cilantro stems from its odor, not its taste. His hypothesis is that those who don't like it are unable to detect chemicals in the leaf that are pleasing to those who like the herb."

I definitely like the scent, finding it fresh, uplifting, and even exciting. For me, cilantro makes a burrito rock, makes salsa sing. I love buying a bunch of cilantro, placing it stems-down in a glass of water, and letting the whole shebang rest atop a kitchen counter for a few days. Sometimes I buy cilantro, chop it up, stuff the small pieces into an ice cube tray, fill it water, and freeze it---the cubes last for a month or two, and can be thrown into wokked dishes, Asian soups, etc. I've tried to grow cilantro, but haven't had much luck; yet, this summer, I'll give it another try because I like the way it looks, smells, and tastes.

I'm not alone. Given the prevalence of cilantro in cuisines around the world, it's obvious that many others love cilantro's taste and scent. On a poetry website I found these lovely stanzas by someone known only as jh89:

Walking along and seeing the steam rise
the moment was truly beauty to behold,
Now under the palest blue of skies
a world of pleasure to eyes mind and nose

Cilantro and clover
fill the morning breeze,
Cilantro and clover
sets me free.

Note: you can read the entire poem here.

Feb 15, 2009

Valentine's Treat: Medieval Garbage Stew

Inside a Medieval KitchenI received an interesting Valentine's Day recipe and message from my friend, Diane LeBow, a longtime college literature professor. After mentioning 14th century author and courtier Geoffrey Chaucer's poem, Parliament of Fowles---the first literary recognition of St. Valentine's Day---she wrote:

"All this got me thinking about the Middle Ages, my favorite period literarily and otherwise, and caused me to pull out my Medieval Cookery book for one of my favorite recipes. " Her cookbook, we should add, is written in Middle English, a language that Diane has often taught and reads quite easily.

That favored recipe---which she cooked long ago for her former husband---is made from the innards of "fowles." The recipe's title is "Garbage," which can be translated from Middle English as "entrails or innards of beasts." Here it is:


Take fayre garbagys of chykonys, as the hed, the fete, the lyuerys, an the gysowrys; washe hem clene, an caste hem in a fayre potte, an caste ther-to freysshe brothe of Beef or ellys of moton, an let it boyle; an a-lye it wyth brede, an ley on Pepir an Safroun, Maces, Clowys, an a lytil verious an salt, an serue forth in the maner as a Sewe.

My own translation of this, admittedly shaky, is: Take a good amount of garbage from chickens, including the head, the liver, and the gizzards. Wash them well, and place in a good-sized pot. Add fresh beef or mutton broth, bring to a boil, and let it simmer. When ready to serve, add cubed bread, pepper, saffron, mace, cloves, and a little salt. Serve.

That combination of spices is typical of Medieval cookery, but is off-putting now. Not to mention chicken heads. But like much else in life, it's all a matter of context, isn't it? So be it fowle or fowl, Bon Appetit!

Feb 13, 2009

Beautiful Valentine's Day Goodies

Valentine's Cake, Jean-Philippe PatisserieThe most memorable Valentine chocolates I ever received were such exquisite edible jewels that I didn't want to touch them. I did, of course, but only after a prolonged bout of admiration.

They came from Jean-Philippe P√Ętisserie, which is located in the Bellagio (Las Vegas). A small, opulent, over-the-top shop in the hotel’s Spa Tower---think glass floors and walls, sculptured glass ceiling, a 27-foot chocolate waterfall flowing through 25 suspended glass vials---it’s the ultimate sweet-tooth destination.

Presided over by Jean-Philippe Maury (voted France’s best pastry chef in 1997), the p√Ętisserie produces intricately-detailed confections. You’ve never seen pastries so colorful or gorgeously bedecked, and the same creative genius is applied to gelatos, sorbets, sandwiches, and salads. But it’s the chocolates that truly astonish. Their composition may be traditional, as with the Praline Truffle, or imaginative (chocolate ganache infused with Earl Grey tea or Star Anise)---but each looks as if it were hand-painted by a gifted artist with a whimsical touch.

Pictured here is a Valentine's Cake. If you're in Vegas, stop by and check this place out.