"Ahhh, a secret ingredient!" my admirer exclaimed. Fingers walked their way up my chest as he pulled nearer. "What could it be? I'm dying to know what you added. Could it...Oh, my god. It's garlic."
Yeah. I do that.
In fact, my father and I do the same thing — when it comes to garlic, anyway. If the cookbook recipe calls for 3-4 cloves, we'll each make it with 5-6. If the dish could take more without becoming unbalanced, I'll write it up in my notes as 8-10 cloves (come on now; this is probably some gumbo, chili, or shrimp thing we're talking about: dishes than can absorb — to a point — a lot of garlic). Next time I read my notes, I'll know that 8-10 is merely my own suggestion to myself. I probably meant a whole head.
And so it goes.
4 comments:
That's why the cartons of peeled garlic cloves at North Park Produces are just *that* much more valuable!
I also get the four (or is it five?) pound bags at Costco. Pretty sure it's all coming from the same place. We've a rule at home, though: if one person is eating garlic, everyone's eating garlic. None of this "ew, you stink" nonsense.
Indeed, that's why trips to The Stinking Rose are always as a group.
Say, now I'm craving a bagna calda...
If an overabundance of garlic is wrong, I don't want to be right.
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