I blame it on this

A second cup of coffee. Me hyped up on caffeine rarely has good consequences. Today's was pickling garlic.

A few weeks ago, in anticipation of a tremendous garden this year, I ordered two books on preserving foods, believing that one book would just not provide enough options for the produce avalanche we will experience (when I'm being delusional, I like to be thorough). One had a recipe for pickled garlic, which sounded like a wonderful appetizer--or a good test of a marriage, whichever way you'd like to look at it.

I picked up 9 heads of garlic at the store--leaving a checker quite positive that I had a vampire infestation--then had to have Andy pick up 3 more as the recipe quite firmly stated that it would take 12 heads of garlic to fill 5 8-ounce jars.
Not if the heads are this size.

After blanching the garlic, Andy was drafted into peeling the skins off the cloves,

and might cease to smell of garlic by our third wedding anniversary.

Peeling wet garlic cloves is an entertaining endeavor. Andy swears it was not a personal issue when he squeezed a clove too tightly and it barely missed my head. In some homes, cooking is a contact sport.

Half an hour later,
7 8-ounce jars of garlic, the leftovers are in the refrigerator marinating, my hands may permanently smell like brine, the kitchen looks like it was struck by canning terrorists,

and one jar has sealed so far.

Ah, the adventures of newlyweds......