I have strange whims. Such as the one I recently had to jump in my car and go to the Gilroy Garlic Festival.
But not with this man. Instead, I got to see one of my oldest friends in the world, Sammy, and his lovely wife Jean. Here are our feet.
Yes, I’m wearing black toe nailpolish. No, I don’t know why.
And here’s my lunch–every single item (tri-tip steak sandwich, pesto pasta, calamari, garlic bread and sauteed mushrooms) has a whopping dose of garlic.
The garlic festival probably isn’t the best place to bring a date, what with the garlic breath and all. Carnivores, however, are welcome.
Also welcome? Fire!
These guys are Pyro Chefs. It was HOT outside even without overseeing a giant fire.
The heat, in fact, might explain this line for the garlic ice cream.
I’m at the end of it. The phrase “garlic ice cream” is underneath the word “free” in the distance. I guess it’s not too surprising that they have to give the stuff away. And here’s the ice cream and some shadows.
One of us evidently broke out into dance just as I was taking this picture. Also, my hands are ugly. Why are my hands so ugly?
But I got to give these garlic festival people props on the garlic ice cream. Granted, the first bite is bizarre, but once you get over the hump, it’s surprisingly good, with just the right balance of savory and sweet.
If you want to read more about the garlic festival (as well as onion, tomato and bourbon festivals), you can check out an article I wrote here. This is a lame way to end my post, but I’m going with it.