Garlic

Published by PolisPandit on March 13, 2021March 13, 2021

I have an infatuation with garlic.  Yes, the health benefits abound, but for me it’s the flavor and versatility of this allium species.  As in most cases involving the senses, memory plays an inextricable role.

My earliest encounters with garlic were limited.  My family rarely – if ever – cooked with the garlic bulb itself.  What I remember most is garlic bread.  Often paired with spaghetti or my Dad’s lasagna, the bread was baked with loads of butter and heavy doses of garlic powder.  It tasted delicious, but for years I had no idea of garlic in any other context.  As a child, garlic meant bread and butter.

Fast forward to my early 20s.  I was living in Los Angeles for a summer in between my junior and senior years of college.  My roommate was passionate about cooking.  I thought he was pretty idiosyncratic for it.  At the time, food for me was more akin to fuel instead of an artistic endeavor worth pursuing.  I was passionate about consuming whatever tasted good, but I paid little attention to ingredients and nutritional value.

Friday dinners were an event that summer.  We had a friend whose family owned a winery in Sonoma.  Each week she would bring a case of some of the Russian River Valley’s finest.  In turn, my roommate prepared the meal.  I often played sous-chef, which typically meant I was the chopping and peeling laborer.  It’s not like I was helping construct the menu.

One day my friend threw a garlic bulb at me. “Can you chop that up?”, he asked.  I could not recall ever seeing such a thing.  Its flaky skin was like an onion.  I moved it around in all directions, unsure of where to begin.  He then showed me how to use my knife to cut the end.  Next he turned the knife 90 degrees so the wide flat part was parallel to the cutting board.  He smashed the bulb with his knife.  Finally he peeled off the loose, flaky skin.  I studied every move. 

My job was to replicate those steps with the remaining bulbs.  I was then instructed to chop the garlic up as finely as possible.  When my knife skills failed to meet his standards, leaving larger chunks of garlic in my wake, he demonstrated the precise cutting technique as well.  Left hand to steady the garlic, right to finely chop from one end to the next, like a surgeon operating on a patient. 

The garlic was sticky and clung to the knife.  But it was the aroma that hit me first.  Almost like a mild onion with spice.  Then I felt its stickiness as I tried to brush off the slivers that begged to stay on my blade.

Noticing my fascination, my friend encouraged me to try one of the slivers.  I still remember the texture of its oily surface.  A spicy sensation grew as the sliver met my tongue and the contours of my mouth.  The spicy onion smell intensified as I tasted the garlic.  It felt purifying and clean. 

“What do we do with this?”, I remember asking, pointing to the finely chopped garlic on the cutting board.  I watched my friend heat a skillet with olive oil.  Once the oil heated enough to cover the bottom of the pan, I was instructed to add the chopped garlic.  As the slivers met the oil, they created bubbles.  The garlic smell now spread far and wide, expanding across the enclosed kitchen.  It was heavenly.  

I don’t even remember what we cooked that night.  But I remember the garlic.  I remember my friend – the culinary master he is – swearing by this ingredient and emphasizing its versatility.  I have added it to numerous dishes since across a variety of cuisines.  From Italian to Chinese, garlic is a staple ingredient primarily for its flavor and probably to a lesser degree its health benefits.  

For me, it’s a miracle food.  One of my favorite chefs, who specializes in Chinese cuisine, considers garlic one of her staple ingredients; something she will always make sure is on hand.  It’s kind to the homecooks who like to buy ingredients and keep them around for awhile too.  With a shelf life of 3-6 months, garlic is forgiving when forgotten.

So do yourself a favor and add garlic to your kitchen repertoire if you have not already.  It should always sit ready and waiting on your counter, waiting for someone to ask, “Can you chop that up?”