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I stuck three quarters of a bulb between the skin and the flesh. Roasted the joint for 100 mins,180, wrapped in foil.
Good job you didn't do a handful of bulbs, like he did.
No skin, slits made in flesh, clove inserted but still visible. I think that last bit might be important.
Mind you, I do like garlic. I had garlic soup once - it's like potato soup. I ponged for a week. Not just my breath, me. It was as if the pong was coming out of my pores.
Lovely.
Anyway, tell your colleagues yesterday was St Nicholas's Day and that it is traditional to eat garlic on his day to keep the, umm, let's see, keep the trolls away. Or you were celebrating Spain's Constitution Day.
This is no laughing matter.
35 years drinking ten pints a night, I never threw up once. Dodgy kebabs, p1ss drinking competitions, sh@gging fat Maria and the black hole of Calcutta, and muffing hairy Mary.
I never chucked up.
I never want to see, smell, taste, or even talk about garlic ever again. I made a garlic leg of lamb yesterday and I must have screwed it up. I think I have OD'ed on garlic.
Driving to work this a.m. , within a twenty mile radius, there were vampires dropping like flies, leaping out of coffins and surrendering to the nearest priest
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