Garlic. A lovely thing. Long ago when forced to read Things Fall Apart (prior to sophomore year of high school--the summer reading assignment) I noticed how very fond of garlic the main character guy is. His name escapes me, actually. It escaped far too many years ago to hope of an honest retrieval. Thus I cheat and look in the book. Ah. Okonkwo. Unless I am mislead (very probable) there is a passage somewhere where he says how much he likes to eat ropes of garlic but his wife doesn't like him to.
Thus I first came to ponder garlic. I did not swoon.
Many years later, after growing up without knives that cut, I have learned to delight in garlic. I have chopped garlic, peeled garlic, tease those that buy pre-peeled garlic, ate garlic, watched others eat garlic, and cooked with garlic. But secretly, subliminally, I yearned for a garlic press. I would say (as I do with all kitchen supplies that I want), when I am rich.
Alas, I shall never be rich, and thus I bought a garlic press 2 weeks ago. And now I can properly massacre garlic. And swoon.