The Garlic Festival never gets old. It’s just that much fun.
As a native Gilroyan who’s invested hundreds of volunteer hours
and hundreds of food and drink dollars into the three-day garlic
binge, I thought it my duty to try to prepare a newsroom full of
festival rookies in the days and weeks leading up to the fest. It
seemed to be working, and they were all excited.
By Lori Stuenkel
The Garlic Festival never gets old. It’s just that much fun.
As a native Gilroyan who’s invested hundreds of volunteer hours and hundreds of food and drink dollars into the three-day garlic binge, I thought it my duty to try to prepare a newsroom full of festival rookies in the days and weeks leading up to the fest. It seemed to be working, and they were all excited.
But when I bumped into fellow reporter Serdar Tumgoren at the festival Friday afternoon, I worried I’d dropped the ball. Two things were wrong when I saw him, dripping with sweat, just a little after 1pm: He hadn’t eaten a thing, and he asked me if there was an actual alley in Gourmet Alley.
He had $4 in his pocket, so I bought him a combo plate. My hometown pride got a boost when he said, “Wow, that’s some good food.” Then I took him for a tour of the park.
Festival veterans know that Friday is the day for locals, so I figured it would be a good time to take advantage of the shorter lines and eat, eat, eat. In two hours I’d downed garlic bread, a combo plate, a peppersteak sandwich, corn on the cob with garlic butter, garlic fries, and more garlic bread. I also burned through most of my three-day food budget. When I got back to the office to write, I dropped a requested peppersteak and some garlic bread on my editor’s desk. He didn’t notice a piece of garlic bread was missing from the bag.
A festival veteran also should know to pace themselves, but I failed on Saturday. See, the first day of the fest, I was on the grounds before the gates opened, when two of the first guests walked straight to a beer tent and pulled out some cash. It was 9:46am, I noted, amused. Fast-forward to Saturday, when Serdar and I decided to pay our boss a visit at the wine spritzer tent, where he was volunteering. He bought us both some sangria, and so it started. At 11:50am.
Serdar began to redeem himself that second morning. One of his first stops was mercantile, because he was worried they would sell out of Herbie bobblehead dolls. The festival was winning him over.
By the time Shaboom played, my “work” at the park was done, literally and figuratively. I’d found my three sisters and some friends, most of whom I hadn’t seen since the last Garlic Festival. Shaboom got on stage, and the dance floor was full before the first verse was complete. Despite the heat, and sweat coating all of us, we joined the throngs – after finishing our beers, of course.
I made it back to the festival on Sunday, first for lunch and finally for the president’s party. It’s great to see the people in charge of Gilroy’s premiere event finally sit down and enjoy the fruits of their labor. In all my years of Garlic Festivals, it’s become obvious that the best way to enjoy it is to get involved.
The volunteers have a blast, and after a year of planning, the association members are ready to show off what this city can do. Any time I saw Festival President Jennifer Speno during the weekend, she was wearing a huge grin, despite all the work she was doing.
Some rookies may not see it, but I know that’s why people keep coming back.
