Before anyone walks in—
before the table is set or the playlist starts, I begin with garlic confit. It’s the Kitchen aroma that says I planned for your arrival. I am glad you are here.
Not because it’s essential for the dish—half the time, it ends up in a bowl on the counter, untouched. But the next day, when I toast a little bread and smear it on like butter, it becomes the best garlic bread I’ll have all week.
But in that moment? I make it for the smell. That slow, warm scent that says something good is coming. It sneaks into the hallway and lingers like a quiet invitation.
It reminds me of walking into my father’s kitchen, where something was always simmering. The roasted pork would be in the oven, filling the house with the smell of comfort and familiarity. It was the kind of scent that made you feel known, like someone was glad you showed up.
For years, I’ve done this with garlic confit. Sometimes it’s practical. Other times, it’s pure theater. It’s my version of those real estate tricks—baking cookies before an open house, or simmering cinnamon sticks and apple cider on the stove, making the space feel like home.
That’s what garlic confit does for me. It says: You’re in the right place. You’re about to be fed. And someone thought about you before you even walked in.
(Also, there was that one time I forgot I had a pot going, came back to a kitchen full of smoke, and a garlic-scented panic. It still smelled good… just not edible.)
Want to try it?
There’s a video on my Instagram showing exactly how I make it Garlic Confit.
To read more about how I use garlic Click here.
