Packaged Garlic

A friend offered to teach me how to make squash raviolis. "Great," I told her. "I have plenty of squash." A complete understatement but she had no idea.

"I'll bring the rest of the ingredients," she volunteered.

She unpacked her bag of cheeses and noodley skins onto the counter. "What's that in the package?" I asked.

She held up a square of clear plastic the size of a condom wrapper. Sealed on either side, the package contained three cloves of garlic. "Isn't this cool?" she said. "They peel and package them in individual servings."

Now I know that packaging garlic into ticky tacky little packages is nothing in terms of the enviromental, social and health issues facing the world but in that moment I was ready to give up. But not without speaking my mind first. I felt my cheeks getting hot, my hair beginning to smolder.

After spouting off about Trader Joe's and garlic from China and where all the plastic in the world is going to end up, I regained my composure and offered garlic from Brentwood. In it's original skin. My friend graciously accepted and told me to peel it.

An hour later the squash raviolis were terrific. Candle lit table, laughter, seasonal salad and brussel sprouts.

I called my friend the next day to apologize - again. She admitted the garlic we used was really good. "It tasted," she hesitated. "Well, it tasted garlicy."

I nodded my head silently on the other end and allowed a small smile.

"But you've got to work on your delivery," she added.