There is a reason garlic is called the stinking rose.
This was the beginning of some roasted garlic buttermilk ranch dressing made by yours truly on Friday evening. A small batch, since it was just a few of us for dinner and unlike the crap laden with preservatives, homemade dressings will go south fairly rapidly if not used in short order.
I shouldn’t have worried about it not being used. The small batch is practically gone, tonight, before launching the cooking of the beer battered shrimp, fried flounder, boiled shrimp (with Old Bay, of course), and steamed snow peas picked a few minutes before, I made a double batch. That should hold us for a few days. Maybe.