SFist in the Kitchen: Garlic
Unless you shop at farmer's markets—and we know you do, so send this to your friends—you probably have never tasted good garlic. Supermarkets usually carry one of two types that travel better than they taste. No surprise, since 70% of that garlic comes from overseas, where cheap labor keeps costs down.
But there are 200 or more strains of the famous aromatic, and each tastes different from its cousins. Some have more heat, some have less. Layers of taste can suggest spices or herbs. A cold snap in the winter creates a hotter clove. Once you discover this hidden world, you'll have a hard time going back to supermarket garlic.
Photo by Melissa Schneider
The most flavorful bulbs belong to the ophioscorodon subspecies of Allium sativum. Garlic geeks call members of this group "ophios" but normal folks call them hardnecks because of the pencil-thin wooden stem that rises up between the cloves (the remnant of the scape). Hardnecks in general have a more complex flavor than the softnecks, but even these varieties taste better from a farmer who doesn't abuse the delicate bulbs. We once chatted with one of the partners at Filaree Farm and he confided to us that he had seen videos of farms where they just dump the bulbs into a truck. He made the film sound like one of those undercover animal rights videos of factory farms. But a good garlic grower knows to treat the bulbs "more like peaches than tennis balls," to quote Eric Taylor of Table Mountain Ranch in Calaveras County, one of the best California sources for interesting garlic.
Sadly, the season for hardnecks is short. You can find them easily now, but the bulbs only keep for a couple of months at a cool temperature (not in the refrigerator, which diminishes the flavor). Softnecks will often keep for a year under proper conditions. Most farmer's market vendors can tell you the particular garlic strain they're selling, though sometimes they'll just tell you the variety (Porcelain, Rocambole, and Purple Stripe for hardnecks; Artichoke and Silverskin for softnecks).
You don't need our advice on what to do with this ubiquitous seasoning—every recipe calls for some—but we are partial to the garlic confit in Thomas Keller's Bouchon, where you poach whole cloves of garlic slowly in canola oil and then store them in the cooking fat in the refrigerator. We also love classic bruschetta, where you rub garlic on a piece of toasted country bread, and then top with a simple mix of chopped tomatoes, sliced basil, and minced garlic. If the weather ever cools down, we'll roast garlic and squirt the paste onto toasted baguette slices or mash it into soup. (Members of the Porcelain variety have large cloves that make it easy to get the most paste per squeeze.)
We know all about that famous garlic bacchanal, the Gilroy Garlic Festival, which takes place this coming weekend, but we can't bring ourselves to go anymore. Broiling heat, packed crowds, and horrible traffic usually lead to one or more heat strokes around the event, and in our experience the food is mediocre at best. And the garlic is all one variety. Instead, go to your local farmer's market and pick up a few different types so you can do a taste test in the comfort of your own home.
Got a favorite garlic strain? A favorite use for the cloves? Let us know in the comments.
Note: Local foodies should keep an eye out for Edible East Bay and Edible San Francisco, which should show up at stores and farmer's markets later this week. The free magazines run pieces about local food, good producers, and the culinary history of our area.