“Garlicky” just may be the most overused word in the food writer’s lexicon. Why? Because there are few dishes that shouldn’t come with a little garlic in ‘em. It’s like saying something tastes “good.” The beer equivalent is “hoppy.” Show us a brew that doesn’t have some level of hoppiness to it, and we’ll tell you to dump it out. So, saying something’s hoppy is about as much description as burping. C’mon hopheads, we need to develop a language that surpasses grunts and clicks!
There are many things in life that are fine at first but quickly go downhill. Things like buying a Dodge Neon. Shaving my head for a $100 bet and then running into my dad. Entering a wet T-shirt contest, then realizing what I actually had to do to win. And then there was the time I went out with that hottie from the bar who told me he was in the witness protection program. Having lunch with my fiancé and child at Ay Caramba Restaurant was one of those things.
Winter nights and bowls of soup are as natural together as clam chowder and oyster crackers. (Or, here in the Land of Enchantment, red chile and posole.) Nothing shakes the chill from your bones or sets the world right quite like it. Ask your parents. Soup maintains a place of honor in almost every family's arsenal of magic potions: It is transformative in its ability to comfort.