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“Mar铆a was out of the blocks the moment she heard the doorbell jangle. She came rushing from the kitchen to greet her childhood friend with cilantro hugs and chipotle kisses.”
― Kevin Ansbro, In the Shadow of Time

“Cilantro was briefly everywhere, creating miniflurries of conversation about whether or not you liked cilantro, which invariably included someone in the room saying, "I can't stand cilantro. It tastes like soap.”
― Meg Wolitzer

“Back inside, I鈥檓 shown an antique cabinet in which members of the community, famous for their homegrown produce, dried herbs.

The Oneida Community was an upstate tourist attraction right from the start, second, Valesky says, to Niagara Falls. I鈥檓 taking the same guided tour offered a hundred and fifty years ago to prim rubbernecks who came here to peep at sex fiends. I wonder how many of my vacationing forebears went home disappointed? They thought they were taking the train to Gomorrah but instead they got to watch herbs dry. Valesky opens a drawer in the herb cabinet so I can get a whiff. He mentions that back in the day, when one tourist was shown the cabinet she rudely asked her community-member guide, 鈥淲hat鈥檚 that odor?鈥� To which the guide replied, 鈥淧erhaps it鈥檚 the odor of crushed selfishness.鈥� Valesky grins. 鈥淗ow about that for a utopian answer?鈥� To my not particularly utopian nose, crushed selfishness smells a lot like cilantro.”
― Sarah Vowell, Assassination Vacation