By Daniel Hoffmann
I have to tell you. I love you, garlic. There. I’ve said it. Now deal with it. If I were allowed to take only one item to a deserted island, I would take you. You are my most prized possession. Our relationship began with 100 bulbs (your ancestors) in 2005. Each year, I’d plant, harvest, and replant again. And now look at you—- you’re 40,000 strong! “Which is your favourite variety?” people ask? Polish? Sicilian? Korean? Salt Spring Island? If I had more than one child, I’d probably have an easier time picking a favourite. Each of you have qualities that make you uniquely you. Ukrainian Hot, you pack a punch like none other. Persian, your creamy outer skin and purple-striped cloves are stunning. Russian, your extra large cloves make cooking so effortless. And Rose de Lautrec…..oh Rosie….your irresistible pink cloves prove that love at first sight does exist. Each of you are treasured — for your healing properties, your transporting flavours, your dazzling appearances, your charming personalities. You are easy to grow, a pleasure to know. From your slender stalk, to your curvaceous scapes to your colourful cloves —- I become weak in the knees when I catch a glimpse of you. So, here’s to you Garlic on our 10th anniversary….though I try to hide it, it’s clear…my world crumbles when you are not near.