Black is the New Garlic

I recently told someone that vegan pizza is my boyfriend. In keeping with the metaphor, my boo and I have been going steady for some months now, and things are going really well. I think about him even when he's not around, we get together pretty much every weekend, we even meet for a secret late-night rendezvous from time to time, after my Italian class--Whole Foods Arroyo doesn't close til 10pm, don'tcha know.

Yup, vegan pizza and I have been pretty happy together lately. But if VP is my BF, then black garlic is my not-so-secret crush. He's the boy that shows up unexpectedly and leaves me speechless, curious, intrigued. He's held my attention for months, though we've never even met properly. At least we hadn't met. Not until today.

Before you assume I've betrayed my significant other, let me assure you that I'm not trying to make black garlic my lover, or even my emotionally-inappropriate "best friend." This isn't Twilight, ladies and gents, and no amount of watching New Moon would make me want to split my love down the middle.


But I don't have to! The most beautiful thing happened today. Whole Foods decided that, in honor of Black Friday or hangovers or Pilgrims, they wanted to make ALL pizzas 50% off this weekend. Including vegan. Including the mysterious, ephemeral, fairytale topping choice, black garlic. I've tracked this stuff across L.A. and had no idea it was lurking in my own backyard at the Glendale WF all along. So I placed an order at 10am this morning to be picked up after work tonight, and watched the minutes tick painfully by while I awaited this glorious union.

All-told, I walked out of the store holding a seemingly-flimsy unimpressive disc of tomato sauce, wheat crust, Daiya cheddar-mozz blend, and black garlic pieces. Plus an avocado, for textural enhancement, and leftover chipotle tempeh pilfered from my work, for protein.

Back home, it only took a brief stint in the toaster oven before my slices were done. The pizza was ready, though I don't think I was. I sunk my teeth into the first gooey bite and immediately cozied up in the familiar arms of my beloved Daiya/crust combo. Next I tasted how the tempeh jived with the cheese, and tried an avocado bite, too. I was clearly avoiding those intimidating night-hued dots on my pie. We were doing that awkward dance that I'm sure happens during any threesome, where everyone does what they're comfortable with and anxiously avoids the point of no return.

But we went for it--all three of us. Creaminess coiled itself around musky, woodsy bite and the comfy, silky textures in my mouth flirted with the utterly bizarre tastes. It was an odd combo, but certainly a classic case of opposites attract. I think that's why we work.

I have visions of the three of us meeting after Italian class, the whole crew getting together to watch bootleg copies of New Moon on NinjaVideo. As with any new relationship, we're going to take it slow. But look at how tasty these photos are. I bet they'd make pretty impressive Save The Dates...