Cilantro state of mind
Has your family had the talk yet, you know, about cilantro?
It’s legal in every state, but it has a spicy, exotic taste that might push folks uncomfortable with things not bland or boring to the edge. Did you know some people think cilantro leaves a taste like soap? Not me, or at least I have not tried that soap yet, but I would, and I perceive a tart, citrusy flavor in cilantro that goes well on my burritos.
And not just burritos. Archeological evidence indicates gardeners across southern Europe and the Levant eastward into southern Asia grew cilantro since at least 3500 years before the pyramids, or around the time we began to civilize. Was cilantro the cause of civilization?
Cilantro was important enough to ancient Egyptians that significant individuals (King Tut, for example) were sent to the afterlife with the seeds. Chinese recipes for immortality potions included cilantro.
Cilantro is a cool weather annual in the carrot and parsley family. It begins with flat pungent leaves resembling Italian parsley that get featherier as the plant grows. Within a couple months, the wispy plants bolt, producing tiny white flowers on umbels, which are clusters of thin stalks emanating for a center. They give us a floral representation of umbrella ribs, and at the end of the thin stalks are the spherical seeds. They are less than a quarter-inch in diameter and brown when totally ripe. The seeds are what we call coriander.
Gardeners plant cilantro after the final spring frost to get leaves in May and June and seeds in July. Another planting in August will yield an autumn crop. Plants will fill out better if spaced six to eight inches apart. Seedlings don’t abide transplanting usually, so plant seeds carefully.
There are many spaceships into the universe of flavor, and one is called cilantro. Let’s say you cooked your refried beans. Now what? You already, of course, added minced garlic, cumin, chili powder and lime juice but wonder what’s missing. Sprinkle on fresh cilantro leaves. Now you’re happy.
Cilantro leaves don’t hold onto their fresh flavor long after harvested. You can stand a bouquet of cilantro sprigs in a jar of water in the refrigerator for a few days, but plan to use them quickly. Leaves might not last long in the crisper, so plan ahead for what to do if a big harvest awaits you when you visit the garden. If you return to the kitchen with two heaping handsful of cilantro, the obvious choice is to make cilantro soup. If you follow recipes, and not everyone does, you’ll have a chance to show off your recipe skill, plus make good use of two robust handsful of cilantro which won’t last long otherwise.
Su-Mei-Yu, distinguished author of Asian cookbooks, ranked cilantro – and not just leaves and seeds but also its root – among the four most important seasonings in Thai cuisine along with salt, garlic and Thai peppercorns.
Besides South Asian recipes, cilantro melds well with Meso-American cuisine, which means it is versatile and well-regarded in spite of the fact it tastes like soap to some folks. Not me. I add it to beans of all kind, and not once have I showered with it.
The seeds are so different from the flavor of cilantro leaves, they engendered a separate name: coriander. Coriander is used as an herb in baking a particular Russian rye bread, in spice rubs for meat dishes, in curry, for pickles or as a flavoring agent in gin. Coriander is used to flavor Belgian beers and German sausages.
Cilantro/coriander is a fragile-looking herby plant, and from it we get seasoning for beer, sausage, tacos, cookies, soups, gin, pickles, and – once a week – burritos.
Cilantro was named Herb of the Year in 2017 by the International Herb Association. I wonder what it wore on the red carpet. It reseeds itself in the garden if the gardener allows it, and why not allow it – it used to be Herb of the Year!