God Does Play Dice

It was delectable garlic, melt-in-your-mouth, still wet on the outside, the inside almost delicately pink. It had been pulled fresh from the ground of a small farm lot in Nara, Japan, and I'd put twelve of the amazing bulbs into a plastic bag and into my suitcase for the long journey home, praying that Customs wouldn't smell it and take it away. They took away a bunch of things (see below) but they inexplicably didn't take the garlic. I was in luck!

The first meal I made with it was incredible; an amazing pasta aglio oglio in which the character of the garlic really shone. And I still had eleven and a half bulbs left!

Since they were so fresh, they were beginning to smell a bit musty from being cooped up in newspaper and a plastic bag, so I opened the bag and put it into an open box in a dim corner of the kitchen so the garlic would dry out somewhat. And then I planned my next feast: Spicy Garlic Shrimp with Fresh Rosemary served over Penne Pasta.

Salivating over what I knew would just be the best garlicky feast I had ever had, today I assembled all the ingredients and prepared all the ingredients except for the garlic, which I wanted to leave for last. Slicing garlic is one of the most sensual kitchen duties I know. I went to get the box. It wasn't there.

I think the cleaning lady threw it out yesterday.