Garlic

Growing up Garlic, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

For me, and perhaps my brother and sister, garlic could be the first and oldest aroma in our olfactory memories. Our mother embraces garlic the way most people embrace water—for us, they are of equal importance to daily consumption and could by now possibly be of equal ratio in our bodies. That may be a bit of an exaggeration, but without a doubt we were raised to identify the taste of garlic not by it’s presence, but how, when, and where it is absent.

There has developed an engrained confidence that garlic can do no harm. Does this confidence stem from the age-old belief in its medicinal benefit: healthy heart and clean blood? Or, is it simply a matter of taste? We may never know, as it is a belief passed down from my Greek mother’s grandparents’ grandparents—and with family, one does not ask why when there is no apparent alternative.

The only objection we hear in our house comes from my father who, even after 32 plus years of savouring my mother’s cooking, still insists he dislikes garlic as he always has. Right. On New Year’s Eve, my sister, mother and I approached a collaborative effort in preparing the elements of our meal. I made a small, side tomato sauce that had around 54 cherry tomatoes and one whole bulb of garlic—around 15-20 cloves. It took 2 hours to stew, and by the end the garlic had dissolved into it’s sugary, liquid alias undetectable by texture and camouflaged by the secret spices, olive oil, and organic tomatoes. My father used it, abused it, and devoured it—forgetting for that blissful meal that he hates garlic.

In this creation, I remembered and recognized one reason why garlic is such a wonderful type of onion (it does, in fact, come from the same family). Garlic is adaptable. Not only does garlic bring out flavour in a similar way as does salt, but it also takes on the flavour of the foods and spices around it. With a little bit of sugar, it sweetens (the secret applicable to duping my father that evening). With salt, it can emit its infamously pungent flavour some fear and others crave. Roasted, it softens into a delicately supple mound of delight. And when diced, it leaves its scent on the fingertips of the chef—Nature’s territorial marking that brands all who bare it with an aroma of sophisticated bravery in the kitchen.

Millions of tonnes of garlic are harvested every year—high volumes from China and South Asia, with cultivation spread as far as the United States and countries in South America, Europe, and Africa. And within all of those geographies, there are people who avoid it and those who devour it.

The Jain, a dharmic religious group in India, believe in non-violence in all forms. This leads to an exclusion of garlic—and other root vegetables like onions and potatoes—with purpose of preserving the plant’s life.

However, at the other end of the spectrum: who hasn’t eaten Italian food without recognizing the dependency Marinaras and Putanescas have on garlic? A trip through North and West Africa would likely be accompanied by meals of beef and lamb simmered in countless numbers of garlic cloves. And, in the end, one can even sit at a small restaurant in Peru and detect the slightly spicy taste of garlic in the addictive ceviche.

One could take a global adventure in pursuit of garlic, and find it just about everywhere, in different forms. In Greece or Turkey—or anywhere in the Levant for that matter—if you don’t taste it in a yoghurt or aubergine-based meze, it might instead be in the pockets of the superstitious to protect them from the “evil eye”. In Transylvania, you might find it above doors to keep out vampiviorous beings. And in America, you might find it preserved in bottles of unused olive oil sealed shut to signify the decorative intention. However, it is all around you. Pervasive, with certainty.

Do not allow yourself to fall victim to propaganda. There is, indeed, an underground movement that would like to invade the kitchens of loyal garlic users—but this would never succeed. I read a food blog just today by one such single-lady-vigilante spouting rhetoric in San Francisco. She is angry that she cannot meet decent men, yet stopped eating in restaurants because they “ALL” used ‘too much’ garlic. Now, seriously. I cannot address this concept in any way other than asking if this very abrasive jargon and rash decision-making might be the cause of her relationship status. Stop making excuses—especially if using garlic as your scapegoat—in any circumstance.

Growing up Garlic is not only important, it is magical. Embrace it. Realize and learn about the versatility in using it—adapt, like garlic does. Explore how a bond of friendship can be made not only with garlic, but also with co-patriots of its protection and consumption. Garlic not only helps your heart, it resembles a heart-shape when held upside down. That is no coincidence or mistake; nature doesn’t make mistakes. Garlic is the heart of the kitchen, and its pulse can nourish all corners of the palate, soul, and body. Only if, however, you let it—as you should. As we all should.