Anyone that knows me understands there are three levels of eaters in my home. I have a husband that abhors white, creamy things; a son who will not let me chop a chicken breasts, finish cake batter, or make pizza dough without snagging a bite; then there is my daughter....she is my partner in crime, er I mean garlic.
There is nothing she and I love more than a pizza with garlic, potatoes with garlic, pasta with garlic...garlic, garlic, and more garlic. It does not feel right if a meal is missing this special ingredient. Unfortunately, my husband wants a kiss and because he is overwhelmed if there is more than a clove of garlic in anything (I probably have three heads of garlic in me right now), it is kissus interruptus.
So what, I am going to go childish with this and say "I hate his perfume, blech!". So there.
