eggs, jelly, nina + karen

i love that first taste of pho, where a few sprigs of cilantro would mix with some noodles and broth, and a hint of beef is enlivened by the mild sharpness of lime juice. i also love a creamy guacamole cut with lots of chopped cilantro, curbing some of the smothering richness of avocado and ripe tomato.

my brother john hates cilantro. he thinks cilantro tastes like soap. he doesn’t even like cilantro near his food.

like jellyfish or caviar, cilantro is an acquired taste. unlike its wimpy cousin parsley, cilantro does more to enhance food than just visually; its perfumes everything it touches, yet its scent somehow remains undiminished by the flavors around it. plus, the more you cook it, the more fragrant it gets.

the same can be said for the folk singer karen dalton, who counted a young dylan among her friends during the ‘60s new york folk revival. she sounded like billie holiday, so much so that the first time i heard her “it’s so hard to tell who's going to love you the best” album (1969, capitol; reissued 1997, koch international) at manhattan’s other music, i thought it was a weird holiday/portishead mash-up. i guess what is now considered a remarkable gift must have been a curse back then; i can only imagine how poorly her melancholic phrasing and muted trumpet-like tone must have gone over with the peter, paul & mary crowd.

best known for the bouncy nuptial standard “my baby just care for me” and the often sampled “feeling good”, nina simone has a voice that takes some getting used to. but her rootsy rendition of george harrison’s flower children favorite “here comes the sun” (1971, rca/victor) is a perfect example of how her smoky voice would infuse an indelible flavor in everything she sang.

Posted by cellpharmer at February 21, 2005 10:31 PM