He doesn’t just casually hate it–as if that were possible–he really loathes the stuff: His secret dream is to “be filthy rich, grow 20 acre of cilantro, and drop a bomb on it.” He kids. I asked Fabio how hating cilantro has affected his life, he laughs in characteristic Fabio manner and says it hasn’t affected his life of course but then admits “People are having fun with me when I say I hate cilantro… [It’s] something fun.”
Fabio feels like he’s the only member of a club. “No way” I assured him. Please read the Wall Street Journal or check out IHateCilantro.com or Facebook or anything–you aren’t alone! He feels the herb tastes like soap, and there is a lot of support out there for that opinion.
I’m not the only one who has noticed that cilantro is everywhere. Fabio agrees and is not happy about its growing prevalence. While would-be fancy chefs find cilantro sophisticated, new and exciting–Fabio says it just wouldn’t happen in Italy: “It’s outlawed in Italy,” he jokes.
Once he and his (Italian) mother prepared meatballs and accidentally purchased cilantro (in the U.S.) instead of parsley–they look similar. Neither noticed the mistake until they tried them–they were both repulsed.
Erin: Does your mother not like cilantro either?
Fabio: No, she’s Italian.
While I have often argued that cilantro has no place anywhere, it certainly has no place in Italian cuisine: cilantro in pasta sauce? Please. I can imagine those meatballs must have been very terrible indeed.
Some people think we cilantro haters are just a winy group of crazies, or that we must just hate everything. Fabio admits he isn’t crazy about artificial cherry flavor, (clearly a man of good taste) but quickly goes for typically less-desired foods like rooster neck or bull’s testicles. Not a finicky eater, just a man who knows what he likes, and what he really fucking hates. (Fabio likes to use the word “fuck” by the way–this cilantro hater approves–am I gushing, how embarrassing. I’ll admit the company is nice).