Don’t say no to cilantro in your garden
“It smells disgusting.” “It tastes like soap.” “It makes me want to throw up.” Poor, long-suffering cilantro. Has this become the most reviled herb on the planet?
Perhaps. Even though it’s been named Herb of the Year for 2017 and is now sold in fresh bunches at supermarkets everywhere, legions of us — including a few culinary superstars — are confirmed cilantro-haters.
Julia Child, the late high priestess of classic French cooking, actually once told Larry King in a TV interview that, if she found cilantro in any dish she was eating, she’d immediately “pick it out and throw it on the floor.”
Tut, tut. Naughty Julia. Yet years ago, I wish I’d been brave enough to do the same. While working as a reporter in Costa Rica, I also grew to detest the darn stuff, because the restaurant near my newspaper office put it in meat and fish dishes, rice, beans, salads, pastries, sandwich fillings . . .
The entire menu, in fact. Ack. You couldn’t escape the scourge of cilan- tro (Latin name: Coriander sativum).
It was like quinoa and kale today — added, ad nauseam, to absolutely everything.
So, cilantrophobe? Me? Definitely. For decades.
But now I’m an equally ardent convert. This change of heart was prompted in part by frequent visits to Mexico — chopped cilantro mixed into mashed avocado, onion and lime makes guacamole sublime.
But I like the way Thai and Vietnamese cooks use this powerful, pungent herb, too.
I’ve thus tried growing it myself. Several times. Yet cilantro (also called coriander) is frustrating for gardeners because the plants shoot up too fast (especially in hot weather) and its frilly-edged, edible green leaves keep shrinking in size and quantity as they go.
Yet those leaves are what we need in the kitchen.
In order to have a continuous supply of cilantro, you must keep sowing fresh seed every few weeks. And who wants the hassle?
Since cilantro plants go to seed so quickly, I now often turn to a plant called Vietnamese coriander ( Polygonum odoratum).
Although it’s a different species, the taste is almost identical to reg- ular cilantro.
This tropical plant goes by many other names — Chinese parsley, Cambodian mint and laksa leaf — and hails from Indochina. But it also happens to be related to a common weed that flourishes in Canada. So there’s no problem growing it in a pot on a deck in summertime.
Then in the fall, if you cut the plant back hard and bring the pot indoors, it will survive quite well over the winter. The leaves become sparser and a bit bitter, and the reddish stems get too tough to use. Yet the unforgettable smell and taste of cilantro is still there.
Richters Herbs near Uxbridge introduced me to Vietnamese coriander years ago — and I’m giving a talk there this upcoming weekend called “Cilantro Secrets Revealed.”
Come and learn more about the history of both these plants. Surprisingly, cilantro is believed to have originated in the Middle East or Europe, not Central America or Asia. In medieval times, the leaves (along with the hard round seeds) were in fact a favoured ingredient in French cooking.
So take that, Julia Child — and all you other cilantrophobes out there.
This much-maligned herb is clearly here to stay. Note: Sonia’s talk is at Richters Herbs, 357 Durham Regional Hwy. 47 in Goodwood. Started plants of both regular cilantro and Vietnamese coriander will be on sale — and she’s bringing along some of her homemade guacamole to try. Time: Sunday, April 30. 2 to 3 p.m. Directions: richters.com or call 1-905-640-6677. Admission: free. soniaday.com