Did you know that some of the finest gourmet garlic in the country is grown in Minnesota? Folks in our state grow over 100 different kinds (that’s 99 more than you can usually find in a supermarket).

You can get your hands on some first-rate garlic for cooking and planting tomorrow, Aug. 16 at the annual Minnesota Garlic Festival.

Chefs from some of the Twin Cities’ best restaurants will prepare the menu for the festival cafe.  There is entertainment, many family activities, expert advice and, of course, all the garlic you could want from 10 a.m. - 7 p.m in Howard Lake.

You know, Howard Lake…in Wright County, about an hour west of the ‘Cities on 394/12? Don’t want to drive there? You can take a bus there with other garlic fans.

Even if you don’t get the festival, don’t forget to order garlic to plant this fall for next summer’s crop. I ordered mine yesterday and discovered that some places (like Seed Savers Exchange) are already sold out of some kinds, and other places, like Laughin Farms in Iowa suffered crop losses because of the floods. So even though you may not want to plant until late September or early October, show your garlic habit some love now.

September has been especially good for my garden. The kale revived after the hot summer and transformed into a bold hedge of green leaves and purple stalks. The tiny Sara’s Galapagos currant tomatoes are still going strong. I have a new crop of cilantro. And, for the first time ever, my fall planting of snap peas has actually yielded tasty little pods before the first killing frost!

There is still much to do before I officially put my garden to bed, but my top priority this week is to get my garlic in the ground. It needs no special care. Just dig a hole 6 inches deep, plant the cloves point up, then cover with about four inches of leaves or grass clippings.

It’s one of the first plants to sprout in the spring. And in mid-June, while you’re itching for your tomato harvest, the garlic will be itching to get out of the ground.

Mother Earth Gardens in Minneapolis carries a few varieties of garlic and it’s not to late to order your bulbs from Seed Savers.

As long as you can work the ground, you can get your hands dirty with a little garlic. Your stomach will thank you next summer.

Sometimes garden orphans become the best garden surprises. Last year, Robyn gave me some of her extra bulbs. Knowing nothing about garlic, I followed her planting instructions, covered the bed with an extra thick layer of mulch and waited for spring.

Bright green and vigorous, they were one of the first plants to sprout. I only expected one to two to survive, but by the beginning of June, I had two vigorous rows of mysterious and delicious scapes. Around the 4th of July, the garlic started to brown and wilt around the edges.

Robyn suggested I wait until the end of the month to harvest, but this weekend, I simply ran out of patience and ran to the back yard, spade in hand. Here are some of the beauties once buried beneath the soil.

Saturday night, we threw a couple bulbs right on the grill. The aroma was heavenly and the taste… um… if I were cartoon character, little hearts would be floating out of my head.

Garlic, my delicious and smelly friend, how could I ever garden without you?

My garlic harvest had only one teeny tiny drawback. It shared a bed with my greens, carrots and cilantro. With only a few carrots, kale and some bolted cilantro, this part of the garden is now embarrassingly bare. Should I let the land rest or can I still plant something this late in the season? Beets? More carrots? Do you have any fun ideas for these empty spaces?

Too hot to cook indoors, the BF and I threw together a last minute meal on the ol’ gas grill… Chicken in a cumin rub, potatoes in chili oil, and some broccoli with SCAPES (formerly known as Greengirl’s Gonzo Garlic). I was going to save them for a little scape pesto but curiosity got the best of me. What would these bizzaro shoots taste like?

When I snipped the scapes from the garlic stalk, the aroma was increadible — Part chive, part onion, and all WOW! Raw, the texture was crisp like a young green bean. Cooked, the scapes turned ho-hum broccoli into I-wish-I-could-lick-my-plate broccoli.

Funny, how the simplest things can transform the ordinary into the ethereal. I never would’ve grown my own garlic if it wasn’t for Robyn. She handed me her cast-offs and suddenly, I’m in love. I almost want to write a really bad pop song.

No, my garlic does not dance.

The garlic I planted in my garden last fall has taken a turn — literally. Everything was fine Sunday night, but when I checked on the garden this morning, the garlic stalks had all gone topsy-turvy, curled in on themselves like an interstate exit ramp or a crazy Muppet’s nose.

What the … ? At first I thought a strong wind may have intertwined the stalks, but then I realized that all the garlic had curled in on itself.

Is this the St. Louis Park equivalent to a crop circle? Are extraterrestrial beings trying to communicate with me? (Kudos, for your creativity guys. You totally got my attention. Next time can you wait until after I had my morning cup of coffee? Not a good way to start out a Monday… no, no, no.)

Have you grown garlic? What’s going on with these baffling bulbs?