shewhomust: (Default)
[personal profile] shewhomust
Occasionally, driving north and west, usually to the starting point of a walk, we pass through Snod's Edge: on a Sunday morning, the cars parked along the roadside indicate that there is something here, and then if you look behind the trees, you can see a church, and a church hall. Nothing else.

I first saw the Garlic Festival mentioned in a tourist information brochure; then a notice at a farm shop; finally a reference on the internet on the website of the ice cream company who would not only be present, but would be selling garlic ice cream. No internet presence of its own, no leaflets to take home and pin to the noticeboard. This elusiveness only made it harder to resist.


garlic

It was raining, of course, not heavily, but persistently. And the celebrity chef who was to have opened the fair, cried off because of "problems". Despite which, we had a good time: "an hour and a half of garlic-related entertainment" to quote [livejournal.com profile] helenraven.

The entry fee (£1) bought you ten tickets, which could be exchanged for samples, but most of the exhibitors were eager to offer their wares, and had to be reminded to accept the tickets. This lack of commercial drive means that while I came away with a newsletter entitled Snod's Edge Garlic Gossip, it does not list the varieties of garlic available (or indicate how I can buy more, when I run out) - but there was Transylvanian garlic, Persian rose, huge heads of Elephant garlic, and a variety mysteriously named Music. There were baskets of garlic, wreaths of garlic, and bowls of roasted and smoked garlic to sample and compare. There was garlic soup (which was excellent), garlic bread and garlic beer. There was garlic ice cream, but I sampled the vanilla-and-chilli instead (excellent creamy vanilla, not much chilli): when I asked about the possibility of chocolate-and-chilli, the venor told me that I wasn't the first person to ask that, and wondered why.

We bought bouquets of garlic, ordered a case of wine, and came home to gather our strength for the rest of the weekend.

Date: 2005-09-11 01:22 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] nineweaving.livejournal.com
No T-shirts?

Toscanini's (as patronised by the Dalai Lama) makes a chocolate-and-chili ice cream. And a Guinness. But no garlic.

Nine

Date: 2005-09-11 09:51 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] shewhomust.livejournal.com
Oh yes, there were T-shirts. I have one (bought in principle for my brother, but it's a long story. Short version: if you'd like it, it's yours...)

Date: 2005-09-12 12:56 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] nineweaving.livejournal.com
Oh, that's kind of you, but it's a long way to send a joke.

Nine

Date: 2005-09-12 02:48 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] shewhomust.livejournal.com
Forgive me; excess is my natural mode at the best of times, but I may have been, shall we say, excessively excessive yesterday. When I find time to post about how we spent the day, you will understand that I should possibly not have been left in charge of a computer...

Garlic soup

Date: 2005-09-14 03:58 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] durham-rambler.livejournal.com
Another blogger (Andy) was there, and he is the man who made the "excellent" soup: an opinion with which I concur heartily.

NB I discovered Andy's blog via the new beta Google Blog search at search.blogger.com. This blog was there too.

And on a totally different tack, did you know that LiVEJOURNAL's spelling checker queries blogger and indeed blog?

From the Garlic Soup-er

Date: 2005-09-14 04:52 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
I'm delighted you liked the garlic soup. It was a labour of a couple of days, and we really wish we had brought more - I'm sure it would all have been used.

Next year, I will offer my services to create a web site, and I reckon Ant will need a bigger plot. This festival has "potentially big" written all over it. I will alos talk to him about mail-ordering the garlic via a web-site and see what he says.

Anyhow, thanks for coming - it was a blast.

January 2026

S M T W T F S
    123
4567 8910
11121314 151617
1819 2021222324
25262728293031

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jan. 24th, 2026 05:01 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios