Alright, so there’s nothing inherently special about roasting garlic. But it’s not something I’ve ever done before, and this week, I’ve roasted six heads of the stuff.

Marvelously fragrant, and only a little tanned from their oven experience.

I’m not a big fan of garlic, but roasted garlic is a whole other animal. It’s mellow and subtle, all that harsh bitterness roasted out of it to leave behind that soft sweetness. It does leave the house smelling rather pungent though.

All peeled and ready for whatever destiny awaits them.

The first batch went into this month’s hummus. As good as a simple hummus is, it’s wonderfully improved by the addition of roasted garlic. I’ve been eating it with lunch this week: just a couple tablespoons doused in oilve oil and sprinkled with sumac. You could eat it with cardboard and it’s still taste wonderful. (I make do with tortilla chips or pita chips, though.)

I am madly in love with this stuff.

The second batch is going into tonight’s dinner: roasted garlic and chicken soup. I have been looking forward to this soup all week.

Actually, I’ve been looking forward to the whole garlic-roasting thing too. There’s something¬†fall-ish about it. I’m missing fall. There’s not much of an autumn here in San Antonio. Not yet, anyway. I haven’t given up on it yet.

In the meantime, I’ll keep on making soups and roasting things and waiting. So it goes.

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