Food for thought
Don't slander coriander
Simon Courtauld
What may be the largest crop of coriander in Britain is growing in a field a couple of miles from here, in the Vale of Pewsey in Wiltshire. The coriander covers at least ten acres and will be harvested later this month, by Indians who have rent- ed the land. Though usually associated with hotter climates, coriander in fact grows well in this country if the soil is right (we are on greensand here). In modern cooking the demand for this fashionable plant appears to be limitless; so why grow corn when you can grow coriander?
The irritating thing is that my own efforts to grow coriander on my small patch have been frustrated this year. Twice I have sown the seed, in July and August, and each time the seedlings have been hoovered up by a plague of slugs revelling in the damp conditions. Experience has taught me that coriander sown in spring goes quickly to flower and seed, and pro- duces fewer leaves than a plant which reaches maturity in the autumn. This year, however, the slugs have defeated me, and it is now too late. But the good news for next year is that I have found in a seed cata- logue a variety of coriander called 'Leisure' which is specially recommended for its lux- uriant leaf growth.
The plant goes back a long way. Corian- der seeds are mentioned in the Old Testa- ment (Exodus, 16:31) and the name is said to derive from the Greek word koris for an insect or, more specifically, a bed-bug, which supposedly gives off a smell similar to the leaves and unripe seeds of coriander. If this is so, it may explain why some peo- ple find coriander unpleasant. I can detect a faint whiff of old sheets — possibly those rubber ones used for children prone to wet- ting their beds — but the bed-bug aroma is lost on me.
The Romans were more interested in the seeds of Coriandrum sativum, introducing them to Britain for the purpose of preserv- ing meat. In the Middle Ages they were considered to be an aphrodisiac, which was presumably why they were infused in a spiced cordial called hippocras that used to be drunk at weddings. Later in the mar- riage, labour pains were apparently eased by chewing coriander seeds.
Though today we may think of coriander in terms of leaves in salads, salsas and cur- ries, its dried seeds have been far more widely used. (If the ten-acre field were being grown for seed, it could produce an enormous crop.) Once the seeds have ripened and been well dried, the bed-bug smell gives way to something much more fragrant, and the oils contained within the seeds have been added to scent, gin and chocolate. An elderly friend remembers being given coriander comfits as a child roughly shaped lumps of sugar with a seed in the centre. And the seeds were once used to flavour junket (does anyone eat junket any more?) Today coriander seed is perhaps best known in this country as one of the compo- nents of pickling spice, and, following the influence of European cooking, in any dish a la grecque, In Cyprus they combine the seeds with olives and put them into sausages. But it is of course in Oriental and Latin American cooking that coriander, both seed and leaf, is most widely known.
Indeed it is probably the world's most commonly used herb, popular throughout the Middle East as well as the subconti- nent. In the Far East it is known as Chi- nese or Japanese parsley — the leaves of coriander and flat-leaved parsley can be difficult to tell apart — and in Thailand the root from a perennial coriander plant is highly prized. Rick Stein, at whose Padstow Seafood School I recently did a fascinating one-day course, recommends the root in fish cooking but says it is hard to find in this country.
A salad made with ripe tomatoes, mild onions, cucumbers and chopped corian- der leaves is commonly found in Mexico, and can be delicious, especially with a margarita or two. And coriander chutney, using plenty of leaves, fresh lime juice, garlic and a chilli pepper, is well worth making. Of the many Indian dishes which include coriander, I am particularly fond of one of Madhur Jaffrey's recipes, which involves cooking chicken with all sorts of spices (including coriander seeds), plus a fresh ginger paste, lemon juice and, for six people, half a pound of chopped coriander leaves. I think I may have to go and join the coriander harvest down the road.
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