MAINEiacMISTRESS
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Joined: 9/12/2012 Status: offline
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OOooh thank you so much for posting this article! I too was a cilantrophobe.....OMFG--THAT TASTES LIKE BUG SPRAY!!!! *Ptoooey!!!* But a family from India moved in nextdoor to Mom & Dad, we got into a conversation when he was out mowing his lawn one day...invited Me over for dinner... and thereafter we became friends. They got Me hooked on Indian cuisine, much of which has cilantro in it, they call the entire plant Coriander, not just the seeds (they throw huge HANDFULS of the stuff in their sauces). However, I think what made it acceptable for Me, was that it was MIXED in with other herbs like fenugreek (has a maple syrup flavor), garam masala (a warm spicy mixture similar to pumpkin pie spice or fivespice), hot peppers, curry, and of course the intimate "family" feel at mealtimes (sometimes eaten in a circle on a plastic tablecloth on the livingroom floor) certainly enhanced the experience. As the article you posted mentions, the brain reprograms itself when cilantro is eaten during a positive experience. For those of you that hate the stuff, there is hope for you yet. Now I grow a 4'x25' double row of it in My garden every year. I usually pick a leaf to chew whenever I walk by. (Incidentally, there is a popular cat/dog repellent for indoor use on furniture that has a strong cilantro odor, and I believe this must be the active ingredient) quote:
ORIGINAL: kalikshama FR, You cilantrophobes need to update your brains: ...The published studies of cilantro aroma describe individual aldehydes as having both cilantrolike and soapy qualities. Several flavor chemists told me in e-mail messages that they smell a soapy note in the whole herb as well, but still find its aroma fresh and pleasant. So the cilantro aldehydes are olfactory Jekyll-and-Hydes. Why is it only the evil, soapy side that shows up for cilantrophobes, and not the charming one? I posed this question to Jay Gottfried, a neuroscientist at Northwestern University who studies how the brain perceives smells. Dr. Gottfried turned out to be a former cilantrophobe who could speak from personal experience. He said that the great cilantro split probably reflects the primal importance of smell and taste to survival, and the brain’s constant updating of its database of experiences. The senses of smell and taste evolved to evoke strong emotions, he explained, because they were critical to finding food and mates and avoiding poisons and predators. When we taste a food, the brain searches its memory to find a pattern from past experience that the flavor belongs to. Then it uses that pattern to create a perception of flavor, including an evaluation of its desirability. If the flavor doesn’t fit a familiar food experience, and instead fits into a pattern that involves chemical cleaning agents and dirt, or crawly insects, then the brain highlights the mismatch and the potential threat to our safety. We react strongly and throw the offending ingredient on the floor where it belongs. “When your brain detects a potential threat, it narrows your attention,” Dr. Gottfried told me in a telephone conversation. “You don’t need to know that a dangerous food has a hint of asparagus and sorrel to it. You just get it away from your mouth.” But he explained that every new experience causes the brain to update and enlarge its set of patterns, and this can lead to a shift in how we perceive a food. “I didn’t like cilantro to begin with,” he said. “But I love food, and I ate all kinds of things, and I kept encountering it. My brain must have developed new patterns for cilantro flavor from those experiences, which included pleasure from the other flavors and the sharing with friends and family. That’s how people in cilantro-eating countries experience it every day.” “So I began to like cilantro,” he said. “It can still remind me of soap, but it’s not threatening anymore, so that association fades into the background, and I enjoy its other qualities. On the other hand, if I ate cilantro once and never willingly let it pass my lips again, there wouldn’t have been a chance to reshape that perception.” Cilantro itself can be reshaped to make it easier to take. A Japanese study published in January suggested that crushing the leaves will give leaf enzymes the chance to gradually convert the aldehydes into other substances with no aroma. Sure enough, I’ve found cilantro pestos to be lotion-free and surprisingly mild. They actually have deeper roots in the Mediterranean than the basil version, and can be delicious on pasta and breads and meats. If you’re looking to work on your cilantro patterns, pesto might be the place to start. http://www.nytimes.com/2010/04/14/dining/14curious.html?_r=0
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