But we'll give the last word -- for now -- to Mantonat, who puts dill in a lovely context:
If you don't like dill, it just leaves more for me. Fresh dill reminds me of childhood visits to my grandmother's farm in central Canada. She would make new potatoes with dill and butter sauce - potatoes and dill straight from her garden. A little more dill on the northern pike caught by me and my grandfather early that morning, and more dill in the pickles jarred earlier in the summer. So, chefs of Denver, instead of listening to people who choose to dislike things, listen to people who choose to like things. I think most of you are already doing just that, which is why there's more variety than ever on Denver menus. One guy doesn't like dill, someone else doesn't like quinoa, and someone else is put off by the idea of eating rabbit or offal. Pretty soon we're all sitting in booths at Applebee's waiting for our southwest ranch chicken breast melt.