A little but of olive oil and garlic in a pan
draws my wife from her scholarly pursuits.
She tip-toes up behind me at the stove
placing her arms around me she whispers,
“What’re you spoiling me with tonight?”

Such a basic ingredient in the dishes we love,
yet such a powerful little brother to the onion.
It does not mask itself in layers;
there is little complexity in the appearance of a clove.
Its complexity lies at an unseen level

What other herb can boast a restaurant named in its honor?
From garlic beer to garlic ice cream,
it seasons every dish they serve.
Chinese, Italian, Indian dishes
the building block of taste.

Slice it, smash it, dice it, crush it, or even leave it hole.
Use it as a cure, or to spice up your love life.
Plant it with your roses; I hear they tend to like it.
It can ward of mosquitoes or even vampires
if you eat enough to leak it out your pores.

This is the real domestic perfume.
The basis of so many meals of family togetherness.
Gentle enough that it doesn’t bring tears to your eyes.
If your friends think that you eat too much garlic,
the truth is, they eat too little.