Garlic and I have had words before.It's not that I don't respect his lingering scent or his strong presence - I mean, I dig that in a potential partner. But the three-day garlic hangover after he's long gone, the middle-of-the-night garlic hot flashes, the taste of him on your lips well after you know he's moved on.... Those kind of things can haunt a woman. And I'm not into suffering.
But roasted garlic, that's another story. Whole clove, oven-roasted, tiny forks to remove the melty goodness and spread it on the toasted olive bread, that's my kind of lover. Steamy but not overpowering; complex, yet also gentle. A perfect presentation of in-the-moment passion without the long-felt heartbreak.
Cardwells' Mediterranean plate is a long-standing tradition with chunks of feta, toasted olive bread, dolmades, rotating salads like tabbouleh or cous cous or ratatouille, and of course, the roasted garlic.
Don't tell though - I don't want him to get any ideas.
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