I find writing this column a great excuse for looking into food matters that puzzle. There were a few questions I had concerning cilantro, so please bear with a little self-indulgence.

            Cilantro is the leaf of the coriander plant; a member of the carrot and parsley family which also includes dill, caraway, cumin, fennel and other licorice-flavoured herbs with similar fern-like leaves. It is one of the oldest known herbs; mentioned in ancient Sanskrit writings and the Bible. The seeds of coriander have been found in ancient Egyptian tombs.

            I have always associated cilantro with Mexican and Latin American cooking. It would be hard to find a salsa, grain, or ceviche dish that did not include this herb. Of course I was also aware of its presence in Indian curries, Japanese and Chinese stir fries, and Middle Eastern stews which are all seasoned with the leaf, the seed and in some instances, the root of this herb.  For many of us, our introduction to the herb was in Mexican cuisine, but it wasn’t until the Spaniards arrived in the New World that this native of the Mediterranean became such an integral part of their cuisine.

             While much of the world use the terms coriander leaf and coriander seed to distinguish which part of the plant they are referring to, we continue to use the Spanish word for coriander, cilantro. In our cookbooks, the term coriander is reserved to indicate the seed. The leaf also is sometimes called Mexican or Chinese parsley in reference to its use in these regional cuisines.

            Coriander seed is an integral ingredient in curry powders and garam masala. The seed has a fragrant, orange-licorice flavour, and because of its preservative quality, is often used in cured sausage and in pickling spice mixtures. Ground, it is used in baking, especially in gingerbread. It is said that the name comes from the Latin word for bug; I’m sure in reference to the shape and not the flavour.

            Although cilantro is considered to be the most global herb, it never truly caught on in North America and Europe. It seems that while “we” enjoy the exotic spice of the seed, we just can’t agree on whether or not we like the leaf.

            While many of us find it to have an interesting lemony fragrance, others find cilantro rank. One friend of mine described it as tasting like her son’s dirty socks. (I didn’t pursue that!) This unappetizing taste is more often described as an unpleasant, soapy flavour. These people would as soon suck on an old gym sneaker as eat a salsa or salad loaded with fresh cilantro.

            It appears that there is a genetic link to this love/hate discrepancy; it’s not just a case of a guest being fickle. This may be why some cookbook authors will advise moderate use of the herb, and only in combination with other, strong-tasting ingredients. Let’s face it, in a salsa with jalapeno and lime, who can really taste the cilantro? But I won’t try to argue with genetics. For me, trying to understand how cilantro tastes to these people is like trying to imagine how my colour-blind son sees traffic lights.

            And has this ever happened to you? You’ve decided to make your favourite fruit salsa for dinner or a last-minute stir-fry and your plants have gone to seed. You rush madly down to the local grocery store; pick up what is labelled “cilantro,” return home to find that it doesn’t smell or taste like cilantro. You swear you’ve been duped; this is nothing more than flat-leafed parsley.

            Well, before going into a rant and blaming your produce manager, think about it. What is flat-leafed parsley, what does it taste like, and wouldn’t it be far more likely that this is just tasteless cilantro than true parsley?

            Now that I have actually tasted flat-leaf or Italian parsley, I can honestly say that it has such a unique, grassy flavour of its own, that I would be insulting it to suggest that the flavourless cilantro I had purchased was in fact one and the same. Even the colour is different; Italian flat-leaf is a deeper green and its leaves are much more deeply lobed and leaf-like.

            The intensity of cilantro flavour can vary from plant to plant. Leaves picked from lower on the plant will have a stronger flavour, but this will fade with time after picking. This is definitely a herb that is at its peak freshly picked. If you do end up with flat tasting cilantro, try adding lemon and dill to the recipe. Just don’t make a fool of yourself berating some young produce manager, charging him with fraud.

            So, there you have it; I can certainly sleep better tonight, although now I wonder if perhaps this gene thing might explain why some people go mad over liver while it makes others retch. Furthermore, I firmly believe that it is possible to politely push a disliked food aside on your plate without making a huge scene about it!