I remember walking into the cottage we rented for many summers and being overwhelmed by the haze of garlic. We were not of Mediterranean background. Back then, cooking with garlic was seen as an act of rebellion among my family and neighbours. My mother, Anglo-Saxon, of sensitive ambitions, sported many small rebellions during her life for which I much admired her. Even today the smell of garlic reminds me of my mother and that you really do have to try to pursue what your heart desires, whether that was your family destiny, or not.