Valentine’s and birthday loom in the horizon. If he goes a-roving, he gets bubkes. If he stays put, he gets a feast. He is a man of distinctly epicurean habits and for such men, chicken with forty cloves of garlic is–I’m guessing here in spite of twenty years of close association–better than shunga. Anyroad, shunga for some of us of a certain age shunga can a been-there-done-that sort of thing, an unrefined, simple minded thing. Garlic is subtler. Garlic is good, as the the menu Louis de Bernieres’s odalisque devised for her lover in Birds with Broken Wings demonstrates.
I missed the deadline for fall planting, negligent gardener that I am. It was not for lack of incentive. Johnny’s Selected, the Cook’s Garden, Burpee’s. Thompson & Morgan and various other seed purveyors update me regularly on new additions to their inventories. what with the voracious deer, my enthusiasm for establishing new beds waned with gardening season and so I missed the chance to try out Nootka, an heirloom variety from Washington state. But all is not lost. Silver Rose garlic is said to grow very fast, whatever that means in seed catalog parlance. If I manage to keep Bambi at bay this coming spring–I am thinking of building a nice moat and dawbridge system or very tricky haha to keep my pocket handkerchief veggie plot. All is fair in love and love and war.