The Tragedy of the Cilantro Soap Gene

I will never know what cilantro is supposed to taste like. 

 

To some people, cilantro, also known as coriander, is fresh, bright, citrusy, and essential to many dishes. To me, it tastes like someone shaved a bar of soap over my food and told me to be grateful. The likely scientific explanation is a gene called OR6A2, which makes some people more sensitive to aldehydes, chemical compounds found in cilantro that can register as soapy. 

 

Personally, it is not a serious medical condition. My throat does not close. I do not break out in hives. I am not in danger. But I am, in a specific and annoying sense, excluded. Why live in California, where some of the best Mexican food is, but be unable to fully enjoy it? 

 

The first problem is the fear of missing out. At restaurants, I will sometimes see a dish that looks perfect, only to be told it cannot be made without cilantro. Suddenly, that dish is crossed off the list of things I can enjoy. This leads me to always wonder about what I am missing. Everyone else is experiencing a version of the meal that I will never understand. Is the cilantro what makes the dish complete? 

 

Another problem is explaining the issue without sounding dramatic. If I say, “I’m allergic to cilantro,” that feels dishonest. But if I say, “I don’t like cilantro due to the soap gene,” the request often seems less important. Sometimes the server or the kitchen forgets, and the food arrives with disappointment. Technically, I can eat it, but do I want to? Certainly not. 

 

Then comes the awkward moment of sending the dish back. I hate doing it. Not only do I not want to seem difficult, but even when the kitchen tries to fix it, the solution is often just brushing off the visible pieces. Unfortunately, often the cilantro is still there, which I can still taste. 

 

There is also a cultural challenge. As someone who is Chinese, I have grown up around foods and spaces where cilantro is common. But explaining “no cilantro” across a language barrier is not always easy. It also feels strange to reject an ingredient that is so normal in a dish, especially when the reason is not allergy or religion, but taste itself. It makes me feel weak, that I am not authentically tasting the real culture. 

 

Part of that feeling comes from the way food is often treated as a test of authenticity. People talk about eating the “real” version of a dish, as if there is a correct way to experience a culture. But culture is not stagnant. It changes with every new generation as each person chooses and changes. Culture has never been about creating the most historically accurate Lunar New Year celebration or cooking the most authentic beef noodle soup. It is about sharing, learning, and persevering parts of yourself you never knew existed. No matter where you are born, mainland China, America, or somewhere in between, your relationship with your culture is your own. My inability to enjoy cilantro does not make me less Chinese any more than preferring less spice makes someone’s palette less refined . It only means that my experience is different. 

 

To conclude, I will never understand why people love cilantro. I will never taste it the way they do. I will continue asking servers, relatives, and restaurant staff to please leave it out. And every time I do, I will wonder what secret delicious universe everyone else is living in while I sit here tasting dish soap. 

 

Source Links: https://health.clevelandclinic.org/do-you-love-or-hate-cilantro-the-reason-may-surprise-you