“I can’t eat this,” my husband states, pushing his bowl away in disgust. I feel a wave of irritation wash over me. After investing 45 minutes crafting a new Mexican dish for dinner, I shoot him an annoyed glance. He continues, “There’s something in here that doesn’t taste right.”
I’m both frustrated and taken aback. My husband rarely complains about food. I take another bite of the rice bowl, relishing the flavors. What could possibly be wrong? Who doesn’t enjoy Mexican cuisine? I may not be a culinary expert, but I can hold my own in the kitchen.
He starts poking through his bowl with his fork, making a face as I give him a glare that could cut glass. I’m silently signaling that our kids don’t need to witness this adult tantrum over dinner. Then he triumphantly holds up his fork and declares, “Found it!” I lean in to see a minuscule piece of cilantro perched on the fork.
“So?” I respond. “It’s just cilantro!”
“It’s revolting,” he insists, downing water as if it could wash away the taste. “I’ve never encountered anything this awful in my life.” I roll my eyes and keep eating. More for me, I think.
Cilantro is the aromatic stems and leaves of the coriander plant. California leads the U.S. in cilantro production, but it’s also grown in states like Washington, Oregon, and Arizona. Sometimes called Mexican or Chinese parsley, it’s clear that cilantro is a polarizing ingredient—you either adore it or detest it. There’s no in-between.
My husband isn’t the only one who loathes cilantro; there’s a dedicated Facebook group with over 6,300 members aptly named I Hate Cilantro. Lauren Stevens, a mother of two, founded the group in 2007 as a lighthearted joke, sharing her unique dislike for cilantro in a family that loved it. Daily, members share photos of cilantro-infested meals, memes, and GIFs.
I got a glimpse of this closed group, and the intensity is real. When I asked members how they describe cilantro and why they dislike it, their passion was evident.
Member Sarah Greene calls it “Satan’s Sprinkles,” claiming it tastes like soap mixed with coins. Jessica Harper refers to it as the “Devil’s lettuce.” Anna Collins, who lives in Texas, has noticed cilantro everywhere—even in margaritas—calling it “the horrible little green menace.” Linda Morris describes cilantro as a flavor that embodies “soap, despair, and loathing.” Mark Thompson insists it tastes like “what old gym socks smell like.” Amanda Richards believes that cilantro “infiltrates everything it touches”—and the group admin, Lauren, agrees.
Interestingly, science supports the notion that cilantro is off-putting for many. Research indicates that for some individuals, cilantro can taste like soap. Yes, soap. Renowned chef Julia Child even deemed cilantro to have a “dead taste,” stating she would throw it on the floor if it ever appeared on her plate.
Why do some people relish cilantro while others recoil from it? This isn’t a trivial debate like Coke versus Pepsi. Scientific findings suggest that some individuals may be genetically inclined to dislike cilantro. I initially found this hard to believe—largely due to my husband’s strong aversion to our dinner—but further research confirmed that cilantro aversion can be a real issue, even a phobia for some.
Jay Miller, a neuroscientist at Northwestern University studying food preferences, explains that if a cilantro taster lacks a positive memory associated with its flavor, they might perceive cilantro as a threat to their well-being.
At first, I chuckled at the idea of cilantro being a threat. Why turn delicate, vibrant green leaves into the Boogeyman? With all the serious issues in the world, why worry about a plant?
But then I reflect on my own deep-seated dislikes—like coconut, for instance. It’s ubiquitous in both food and beauty products, from sunscreen to lip balm. I’ve detested coconut since childhood. A memorable incident at age seven involved my aunt, a chocolate lover, taking me to an upscale chocolate shop. We indulged in gourmet truffles, and while the raspberry flavor was delightful, the coconut one made me gag right in the parking lot.
So, if science suggests that cilantro can genuinely repulse certain people, I can’t hold it against my husband. He truly couldn’t help but dislike the dinner I prepared since even a hint of cilantro ruined the dish for him. However, I won’t be giving up cilantro anytime soon. In fact, I’m the only one in my family who enjoys adding extra leaves on top of my scrambled eggs and mixing them into my Pad Thai.
I take Diana Hall, a member of the I Hate Cilantro group, at her word when she issues a warning to cilantro enthusiasts. Cilantro is not an acquired taste; she cannot be persuaded, and any trace of “devil weed” is immediately detectable. So don’t even think about trying to sneak it past her—or any of her fellow cilantro haters. It simply won’t fly.
As with many things in life, it’s essential to embrace individual preferences. So when it comes to cilantro—let everyone enjoy it or loathe it in their own way.
For those curious about fertility and related topics, check out this post about fertility boosters for men. If you’re seeking more resources on pregnancy or home insemination, this is an excellent place to start.
Summary
This article explores the intense dislike some people have for cilantro, highlighting a Facebook group dedicated to those who share this sentiment. Through personal anecdotes and scientific insights, it examines the reasons behind cilantro aversion while advocating for individual preferences in food.