An Open Letter to Coriander

Dear Coriander,

The time has come for us to go our separate ways. This is the last year that you will seduce me with your citrus-y asian undertones. You will no longer transport me back to Thai delights or Vietnamese sojourns with your pungency. I am putting my foot down. No sooner than I have bought you home from the nursery and lovingly planted you, salivating with the anticipation of Thai Salads, Long soups and stir fries, that you bolt out the door leaving me with an insipid downer, disappointing my palate YET again and leaving me longing for you in your younger, fresher and exciting days as when you first arrived in the vegetable garden. Sometimes as soon as three days earlier.

I am over your beguiling ways, your sweet whispers and promises of exciting flavour and palate enlightenement. NO MORE!!!! I will not tolerate your bolting presence in my garden for another season, however short. We have been through so, so much together, but my heart and palate have been broken too many times to forgive. So it is with great sadness and difficulty that I must say goodbye. I can take no more heartbreak. No more disappointment. No more false and empty promises. I must turn my back on you and find another plant that will take your place. A plant that I can count on to be there for me and my cooking when I need it, that I can rely on not to bolt to seed, a plant that can last the distance with flavour, still be pretty enough for garnish that packs a punch and delights both the eye and the palate.

I am of a vintage where I am looking for committment, for reliance, for understanding, for dedication and for loyalty. My days of one night stands and cheap thrills are in my past.

It is over. No, there is nothing left to say. Please go and leave me in my grief. I have loved and forgiven too often, this time will be the last.

Daffodil.