I have a convoluted relationship with this fragrant bulb, regularly called the "smelling rose." Back when I was a kid, I had extreme emetophobia. Dread of upchucking, in the event that you've never heard the term. I read some place that garlic could help forestall the stomach influenza, so when I was twelve years of age, I basically turned into a mobile garlic clove. I ate it crude, loads of it, each and every day. I destroyed the stuff and put it on toast. My schoolmates grumbled that the smell was leaking from my pores. At long last, following a time of this fixation, I ate excessively and it caused me to become ill. That carried a firm stop to my indulging of the bulb. Be that as it may, I despite everything love the stuff, and love to remember it for my cooking. Garlic is a fundamental fixing in a portion of my preferred nourishments: new salsa, soups, Italian dishes, Indian food (garlic naan, anybody?), thus substantially more.