Why Do Some People Hate Cilantro And Is It Genetic Explained

For many, cilantro is a vibrant, citrusy herb that elevates salsas, curries, and salads. For others, it tastes like soap, metal, or even rotting food. This sharp divide in perception has long puzzled chefs, diners, and scientists alike. Why do some people despise cilantro so intensely? Is it a matter of upbringing, exposure, or something deeper—like genetics? The answer lies in a fascinating intersection of biology, chemistry, and evolution.

Cilantro (also known as coriander leaf) is one of the most polarizing ingredients in global cuisine. Loved across Latin America, South Asia, and Southeast Asia, it’s equally loathed by a significant minority. What sets cilantro apart from other herbs isn’t just its flavor—it’s the fact that reactions to it are often visceral and immediate. Understanding why requires exploring human olfaction, genetic variation, and the molecular compounds that trigger such strong responses.

The Chemistry Behind the Soapy Taste

The key to understanding cilantro aversion begins with its chemical makeup. Cilantro contains a group of compounds called aldehyde chemicals—specifically, long-chain aldehydes such as decanal and dodecanal. These molecules are responsible for the herb’s bright, citrus-like aroma in some individuals. But they also bear a striking resemblance to the chemical compounds found in certain soaps, lotions, and even insect secretions.

Aldehydes were widely used in perfumes and soaps throughout the 20th century. When people sensitive to these compounds smell cilantro, their brains may interpret the scent not as fresh and herbal, but as soapy or greasy. This isn't imagination—it's a neurological response based on molecular similarity.

Tip: If you find cilantro soapy, try cooking it briefly. Heat can break down volatile aldehydes, mellowing the flavor and reducing the soap-like notes.

Genetic Basis of Cilantro Aversion

Research has confirmed that genetics play a central role in whether someone perceives cilantro as delicious or disgusting. A landmark study conducted by 23andMe in 2012 analyzed the DNA of over 25,000 participants and found a strong correlation between a specific gene variant and cilantro dislike.

The gene in question is OR6A2, which codes for an olfactory receptor highly sensitive to aldehyde compounds. Individuals who carry a particular variant of this gene are far more likely to detect the soapy undertones in cilantro. Because this receptor is tuned to respond strongly to aldehydes, even small amounts in cilantro can trigger an unpleasant sensory experience.

This genetic variation is inherited, meaning cilantro hatred often runs in families. If one or both parents detest cilantro, there’s a higher chance their children will too—not because of learned behavior, but due to shared DNA.

“Variation in the OR6A2 receptor explains a significant portion of why cilantro tastes soapy to some people. It’s one of the clearest examples of how genetics directly influence food preference.” — Dr. Nicholas Eriksson, Geneticist, 23andMe Research Team

Global Distribution of Cilantro Sensitivity

The prevalence of cilantro aversion varies significantly across populations, reflecting both genetic diversity and cultural exposure. Studies estimate that roughly 4% to 14% of the global population finds cilantro unpalatable, with higher rates among people of European descent.

A breakdown by ethnicity reveals notable patterns:

Population Group	Estimated % Who Dislike Cilantro	Possible Contributing Factors
East Asian	3–7%	Lower frequency of OR6A2 variant; widespread culinary use
Middle Eastern	6–8%	High exposure from childhood; genetic adaptation possible
European (especially Southern)	12–17%	Higher prevalence of sensitive OR6A2 variant
Hispanic/Latino	4–10%	Strong cultural normalization despite genetic sensitivity
African	5–9%	Diverse genetic background; regional culinary integration

Interestingly, even among genetically predisposed individuals, repeated exposure can reduce aversion. Cultural familiarity appears to modulate genetic predisposition—meaning that while genes may load the gun, environment pulls the trigger.

Can You Train Yourself to Like Cilantro?

Yes—though success depends on individual sensitivity and willingness to persist. For those whose distaste is mild or context-dependent, gradual exposure can rewire the brain’s association with cilantro. This process mirrors how people learn to enjoy coffee, blue cheese, or hoppy beer—all initially acquired tastes.

Here’s a practical step-by-step guide to developing a tolerance for cilantro:

1. Start with cooked cilantro: Heat alters volatile compounds, softening the soapy notes. Add chopped cilantro to soups, stews, or stir-fries near the end of cooking.
2. Pair with strong flavors: Combine small amounts with bold ingredients like lime juice, garlic, cumin, or chili. This distracts the palate and reduces focus on cilantro’s dominant notes.
3. Use microgreens or young leaves: Younger cilantro tends to be less pungent. Try sprinkling a few tender leaves on tacos or avocado toast.
4. Blend into sauces: Mix cilantro into pesto, chutney, or green goddess dressing. Blending disperses the flavor and integrates it with fats and acids.
5. Practice mindful tasting: Eat a small piece slowly, focusing on texture and aftertaste. Note whether the “soap” sensation diminishes over time.
6. Repeat consistently: Expose yourself once or twice a week for several weeks. Many report reduced aversion after 4–6 exposures.

Tip: Pair cilantro with fat (like yogurt or avocado) and acid (like lemon or vinegar). These elements help mask and balance volatile compounds.

Real-Life Example: Overcoming a Lifelong Aversion

Carlos, a 34-year-old software engineer raised in Chicago, avoided Mexican food for years because of his intense dislike of cilantro. “It wasn’t just that I didn’t like it,” he said. “It made me gag. I thought everyone was lying when they said it tasted fresh.”

After moving to Austin and attending frequent taco pop-ups, he decided to confront his aversion. He started by asking for “no cilantro” but watching others enjoy it. Then, he tried dishes where cilantro was blended into sauces. His first attempt at eating a small leaf resulted in immediate regret—but he persisted.

Over three months, Carlos incorporated cooked cilantro into rice bowls and salsas. By week ten, he could eat a garnish without discomfort. Today, he admits he still doesn’t crave it, but he no longer avoids restaurants because of it. “I wouldn’t say I love it,” he says, “but now I understand why others do.”

His story illustrates that while genetics set the baseline, personal experience and persistence can shift perception.

Do’s and Don’ts for Handling Cilantro Aversion

Do’s	Don’ts
Ask for substitutions politely when dining out	Mock others for liking cilantro (“It’s soap!”)
Try different preparation methods (cooked, blended, pickled)	Assume your reaction is universal
Use parsley or culantro as alternatives	Force yourself to eat large amounts at once
Educate others that aversion is biologically valid	Dismiss cultural significance of the herb
Experiment with small doses regularly	Give up after one bad experience

Frequently Asked Questions

Is cilantro intolerance a sign of a medical condition?

No. Disliking cilantro is not an allergy or health issue. True cilantro allergies are rare and involve immune responses like itching or swelling. Aversion due to taste perception is normal and harmless.

Can cooking eliminate the soapy taste completely?

Not entirely, but it helps. Cooking breaks down some aldehyde compounds, reducing their volatility and intensity. Sautéing, simmering, or blending cilantro into emulsified sauces often makes it more palatable to sensitive individuals.

Are there herbs that taste similar to cilantro but don’t trigger the soapy reaction?

Yes. Parsley (especially flat-leaf) offers a similar appearance and mild freshness without the aldehydes. Culantro, a related tropical herb, has a stronger, more persistent flavor but lacks the same soap-like compounds for most people. Some also use shiso, mint, or epazote as substitutes depending on the dish.

Conclusion: Embracing Biological Diversity in Taste

The debate over cilantro isn’t just about food—it’s a window into human diversity. Our ability to perceive flavors and aromas varies dramatically due to genetics, environment, and culture. The fact that a simple herb can provoke such strong reactions underscores how deeply personal taste truly is.

Understanding that cilantro hatred is rooted in real biology—not pickiness—fosters empathy in kitchens and restaurants alike. Whether you’re a chef crafting a menu, a home cook sharing a meal, or someone struggling to enjoy a garnish, recognizing the role of genetics can transform judgment into curiosity.

Instead of asking, “How can you hate cilantro?” perhaps we should ask, “What does cilantro taste like to you?” That small shift opens the door to richer conversations about food, identity, and the invisible forces shaping our palates.

💬 Have a strong opinion about cilantro? Share your experience in the comments—whether you love it, hate it, or have learned to tolerate it. Your story might help someone else feel less alone at the dinner table.