Why Do Some People Hate Cilantro And Is It Genetic Or Learned Taste Preference

For many, cilantro is a vibrant, citrusy herb that enhances salsas, curries, and salads. For others, it tastes like soap, metal, or something unnervingly unnatural. This sharp divide in perception has sparked curiosity for decades: Why do some people hate cilantro so intensely? Is this aversion hardwired into our DNA, or shaped by experience and culture? The answer lies at the intersection of genetics, sensory biology, and cultural exposure — a fascinating example of how individual differences in taste can create entirely different culinary worlds.

The debate over cilantro isn’t trivial. It influences food choices, dining experiences, and even social interactions. Understanding the roots of this polarizing preference offers insight not only into one herb but into how human taste works more broadly — and how personal biology shapes what we find delicious or disgusting.

The Science Behind Cilantro Aversion

Cilantro, known as coriander leaves in many parts of the world, contains a group of chemical compounds called aldehyde molecules. These are volatile organic compounds responsible for its distinct aroma. Interestingly, some of these aldehydes are also found in soaps, lotions, and even some insect secretions. This chemical overlap is central to the “soapy” taste complaint.

Research shows that individuals who perceive cilantro as soapy often have a specific variation in a cluster of genes located on chromosome 11 — particularly the OR6A2 gene. This gene codes for an olfactory receptor highly sensitive to aldehyde compounds. When active, it amplifies the detection of these molecules, making cilantro’s scent overwhelming and unpleasant to certain individuals.

“Some people are genetically predisposed to detect the soapy notes in cilantro because their olfactory receptors bind more strongly to aldehyde compounds.” — Dr. Sarah Tishkoff, Geneticist, University of Pennsylvania

This doesn’t mean everyone with the gene variant hates cilantro, nor that those without it love it. But studies consistently show a strong correlation. A 2012 study published in Flavour analyzed data from over 30,000 participants and found that about 4–14% of people of European descent carry the gene variant associated with cilantro dislike — and many report a soapy aftertaste when consuming it.

Genetic vs. Learned Taste Preferences

While genetics play a significant role, they don’t tell the whole story. Taste is a complex interplay between biology and environment. Early exposure, cultural context, and repeated consumption can all influence whether someone learns to tolerate — or even enjoy — foods they initially disliked.

In cultures where cilantro is a staple — such as in Mexican, Thai, Indian, and Middle Eastern cuisines — people are more likely to consume it from childhood. This early and frequent exposure appears to condition the brain to associate cilantro with positive flavors and meals, reducing aversion over time. In contrast, individuals raised in regions where cilantro is rare may lack this familiarity, making the first encounter more jarring.

Tip: If you dislike cilantro, try small amounts mixed into flavorful dishes (like curries or guacamole) to gradually desensitize your palate.

A 2015 study from the Monell Chemical Senses Center found that while genetics account for about 85% of cilantro taste perception, environmental factors still contribute meaningfully. Participants who grew up eating cilantro were significantly less likely to describe it negatively — even if they carried the so-called “soap gene.”

Global Perspectives on Cilantro Acceptance

Cultural norms dramatically affect cilantro acceptance. In countries where it's used daily, dislike is relatively uncommon. Conversely, in Western countries where it's seen as an exotic or optional garnish, complaints are more frequent.

Region	Cilantro Use	Reported Dislike Rate
Mexico	Common in salsas, tacos, soups	~3–6%
Thailand	Used in curries, salads, stir-fries	~4%
India	Widely used in chutneys, dals, raitas	~5%
United States	Often garnish; limited use	~14–21%
United Kingdom	Occasional use in ethnic dishes	~17%

This disparity suggests that while genetics set the stage, culture directs the performance. Even among genetically predisposed individuals, regular exposure can override initial disgust through a process known as “hedonic adaptation” — the brain’s ability to rewire emotional responses to stimuli based on repeated positive associations.

Can You Learn to Like Cilantro?

Yes — for many, taste aversions can be unlearned. The brain’s reward system links flavor with context, memory, and emotion. Pairing cilantro with enjoyable foods can shift perception over time.

Here’s how to retrain your palate:

1. Start small: Add a single chopped leaf to a dish you already love, like guacamole or rice.
2. Pair with fat: Combine cilantro with oils, avocado, or yogurt, which mellow sharp flavors.
3. Cook it slightly: Lightly sautéing or wilting cilantro reduces its volatile compounds and softens the taste.
4. Blend it: Use it in smooth sauces or dressings where its flavor disperses evenly.
5. Be patient: It may take 10–15 exposures before your brain registers it as safe and pleasant.

“I hated cilantro until I lived in Oaxaca and ate it every day in fresh salsa. Now I miss it when I’m away.” — Maria Lopez, Food Writer

This gradual approach leverages neuroplasticity — the brain’s ability to adapt based on experience. Over time, the association shifts from “strange/soapy” to “fresh/herbal,” especially when paired with satisfying meals.

Case Study: From Hatred to Culinary Staple

James, a 34-year-old teacher from Ohio, avoided cilantro his entire life. At family dinners, he’d meticulously pick out every green fleck from his tacos. The smell alone made him nauseous. After moving to California for work, he began frequenting authentic Thai restaurants. Out of politeness, he stopped asking for substitutions. At first, he tolerated it. Then, he noticed something odd: after two months of regular exposure, the soapy taste faded.

By month four, he was adding extra cilantro to his noodle bowls. “It wasn’t sudden,” he said. “But one day I realized I actually looked forward to that bright, lemony kick.” James didn’t change genetically — his OR6A2 receptors remained the same — but his brain adapted to the flavor through consistent, low-stress exposure in enjoyable settings.

His experience reflects a growing body of research showing that taste aversion isn’t always permanent. Context matters as much as chemistry.

Do’s and Don’ts When Introducing Cilantro

Whether you’re trying to appreciate cilantro yourself or serve it to others, consider these guidelines:

Action	Why It Helps or Hurts
Do: Chop finely and mix into flavorful dishes	Distributes taste evenly, preventing concentrated bursts
Do: Pair with lime, garlic, or chili	Strong complementary flavors mask initial bitterness
Do: Use fresh, not wilted, cilantro	Fresh herbs have cleaner, brighter profiles
Don’t: Serve large sprigs as garnish to cilantro-averse guests	Creates negative associations; feels inescapable
Don’t: Force someone to eat it	Triggers resistance and reinforces disgust
Don’t: Use dried cilantro	Lacks freshness and develops a musty, off-putting taste

FAQ: Common Questions About Cilantro Taste

Is cilantro intolerance a sign of a medical condition?

No. Disliking cilantro is not a health issue or allergy. It’s a normal variation in sensory perception. True allergies to cilantro are extremely rare and involve immune responses like hives or swelling — not taste distortion.

Can cooking eliminate the soapy taste?

To some extent, yes. Heat breaks down aldehyde compounds, reducing their volatility. Lightly cooking or wilting cilantro can soften its flavor. However, prolonged cooking diminishes its brightness, so balance is key.

Are there good substitutes for cilantro?

Yes. For a similar fresh profile, try flat-leaf parsley, culantro (a related but stronger herb), or a squeeze of lime with chopped chives. Each offers a different nuance but can fill a comparable role in recipes.

Conclusion: Embracing the Diversity of Taste

The divide over cilantro is more than a quirky food debate — it’s a window into human diversity. Our genes shape how we experience the world, but our experiences can reshape how we interpret those signals. Whether your aversion is genetic, learned, or both, it’s valid. And if you’re open to change, there’s room for growth.

Understanding why cilantro tastes like soap to some and sunshine to others fosters empathy in shared meals. It reminds us that flavor isn’t objective — it’s personal. Instead of judging preferences, we can celebrate them, adapt recipes accordingly, and even explore new dimensions of taste within ourselves.

💬 Have a strong opinion on cilantro? Share your story in the comments — whether you love it, hate it, or changed your mind. Your experience could help others navigate their own taste journey.