“Look out, here comes the vampire!” the clerk called out in fake terror as I walked in the door. 

While I’ve had what I consider a standard amount of descriptors attached to me over my life, this particular one was a first. Fortunately, there was only one character trait that had landed me that label; and no, it wasn’t a thirst for blood, a hypersensitivity to sunlight, or an ability for telekinesis. It was my superhuman strength — no wait, it wasn’t that either — it was my avoidance of garlic. 

For various internet-researchable reasons that I won’t go into detail here, vampires and garlic just don’t mix. Garlic repels them, and garlic repels me, so the logical inference is that I am a vampire.

For the record, I do not believe in vampires. I learned more about them in a single page read of my google search “traits of vampires” than my sum total of knowledge up to this point. My only other experiences comprise seeing the Count in a few of my son’s Sesame Street books, and a strange season in college involving a unit-mate obsessed with the Twilight series. 

The fact remains, however obfuscated by silly/creepy vampire lore, that garlic does repel me. It hasn’t always been this way, and who knows if it will always be, but it’s definitely my current reality. I don’t know the cause or the exact time of incidence, but it seems my sensitivity to garlic (and all alliums) occurred sometime in concurrence with the bacterial infection, parasite, and amoeba I came home from Kenya with ten years ago. I spent a few years feeling sick and not being able to figure out why, until I finally stumbled onto cutting out the certain food group containing fructans…and suddenly/slowly my stomach didn’t feel like it was rotting anymore. Enough details: I try not to eat garlic in any form or onions that have not been well cooked, and I feel good. 

I’ve mentioned this unusual food sensitivity in an article before, and you may or may not have noticed the dearth of garlic in my recipes. It’s good I like to cook, because garlic is one of the most ubiquitously used ingredients. You tell me what savory dish doesn’t start with sauteing an onion with some garlic. 

I’ve had friends tell me they’ve tried to cook without garlic…and just couldn’t even logicize their way out of tossing in those minced garlic cloves or that teaspoon of garlic powder. The vast majority of premade spice mixes also include garlic, so accidental use is also extremely common. Fortunately, I’m not actually allergic, so I don’t have a reaction besides feeling sick for a while, and it seems my symptoms have lessened over the years of healing my gut.

Often people lament my life’s loss of garlic, but honestly, it’s okay — it’s annoying, but I don’t miss it; and in fact, it even smells bad to me now as my body associates feeling bad with its aroma. My poor family has a low threshold for eating it now too as they rarely get any at home. 

I’m just so grateful I’m not sensitive to dairy. Now that would be a travesty. 

G is for Roasted Garlic Butter Biscuits

This is honestly one of the only times something garlicky has smelled good to me: it reminded me of the special garlic biscuits my mom used to make for some Sunday lunches. They were the only time I remember eating tube biscuits; they were baked in a buttery garlic sauce and they were incredible. I didn’t set out to recreate my childhood memories, but when I pulled these biscuits out of the oven, it instantly brought me back to the family table of years past. I just thought it would be a fun idea to have the garlic butter infused into the biscuits instead of spreading them with it.

Prep tips: Brian turned these into epic-looking little sandwiches with bacon, mayo, and fresh tomato slices, but they’d be great on their own or with some scrambled eggs.

• 1 head of garlic (yes I mean the whole head)

• 1 tablespoon olive oil

• 8 tablespoons butter, room temp

• ½ teaspoon salt

• your favorite buttermilk biscuit recipe

Cut off the tip of the unpeeled/unseparated head of garlic, exposing the top of the cloves. Set on a piece of foil, drizzle with the oil and sprinkle with some salt, and wrap tightly. Roast at 400° for 45-60 minutes (I usually bake something else at the same time — but not desserts….), or until the cloves are soft and golden. Let cool, then literally take the whole head and squeeze out the garlic cloves. They should be smushy, but if not, mash with a fork. Stir into the butter with the salt, and chill. Use as the butter in your biscuit recipe (and if you need one, email me). 

Amanda Miller lives with her husband, two young children, and whoever else God brings them through foster care on the family dairy farm in Hutchinson. She enjoys doing some catering, teaching cooking classes, and freelancing, but mostly chasing after her kids. Reach her at hyperpeanutbutter@gmail.com.