but I was feeling frisky the other day. I went out on a limb and bought the peeled, jarred garlic. Best of both worlds, yes?
I got it home and broke the seal on it to make some Korean soup. Ay carumba, this stuff was strong. And it was like a Pandora’s Box. Once that seal was broken, all bets were off. You couldn’t open the refrigerator in the kitchen without someone in the living room gagging from the smell. I tried to remedy the situation by putting the jar inside a Zipl*c freezer bag. No improvement. Even the fresh new box of baking soda in the refrigerator was sobbing in defeat.
Still not wanting to be wasteful, I decided to try to make the transfer to a glass container. I sealed it up with a lid and then double wrapped the entire thing in Press n Seal wrap.
Still, the smell raged on. I drew the line when I opened the freezer and was nearly knocked over by the smell. Something drastic had to be done, lest my St*rbucks Java Chip Frappacino ice cream be tainted.
The garlic had to go. So today is garbage day. Jason, whose job is trash duty, was elbow-deep in cleaning out the cat litter box, which can only be described as malodorous. I told him I was going to throw the garlic in the garbage can and he shrieked, woman-like, Not yet! Wait until the very last minute!!!!!
Finally, the garlic was ceremoniously dumped. The garbage bag was quickly sealed (but not before Jason romantically squeezed all of the air out of the bag into my face, laughing maniacally). I can only imagine this was payback for me eating barbecue pork skins in an enclosed car on long road trips.
Our dog tentatively approached the bag and gave it a sniff. Then he leapt into the air as if he had been shocked and ran away with his tail between his legs, toenails sliding to and fro on the tile.
The garlic has been placed in the trash can by the road. I will be on high alert for when the garbage truck comes by, fingers ready to dial 911, if need be. The poor garbage man will be dreaming and wishing for the good old days when our trash can was filled to the rim with poopy diapers when he gets a whiff of this.
Goodbye, garlic. May you never darken my doorstep again, unless you remain sheathed in your thin, papery coat or come already minced and enclosed in an airtight, glass jar.
**Note: All pictures were pulled from the internet. It was feared that bringing our personal camera anywhere near the super-garlic would have caused severe and lasting damage to the camera’s inner workings.**