E didn’t start well. Me and coriander, that is, a nefarious herb I didn’t so much dislike as detest. The feeling was entirely mutual. It would go out of its way to irk and anger me, sullying stir fries, curries and tacos alike with its aggressively strange, deliberately repellent tang. I mean, how could one such innocuous-looking leaf —the very picture of fresh-faced, verdant beauty—punish the taste buds with such violent disdain. For a good few years, I spent hours methodically picking out each and every green scrap, cursing
