The only sandwich I ever cried over was pimento cheese. My Aunt Sally, who lived in Fayetteville, N.C., made them to perfection, and we always took some home when we visited her. One year, we packed them with great restraint (not eating them immediately) into an ice chest. Halfway to D.C., we stopped with great anticipation to eat the lunch treat waiting for us. Tragedy!!! The melting ice had invaded the sandwich bags and made soggy messes of our treasures. I cried from the middle of Virginia to the driveway. However, the jar of her Jerusalem artichoke pickles made it home safely and consoled me for a couple of days.

I agree that pimento cheese is truly one of the greatest delights of being Southern. I never had much homemade pimento cheese (we called it "minner cheese," though). But Ruth's "minner cheese" grilled on white bread is one of the greatest lunch meals of all times. When we got on the low-carb kick a few years ago, pork rinds and "minner cheese" was a great snack!

I've never been able to tolerate the store-bought stuff, most likely because of the awful imitation process cheese food that it is made with. I mean, really, what is that? But, after reading your article on pimento cheese, and knowing that my wife is such a big fan of the stuff, I decided to make the recipe. It was ridiculously easy, taking about five minutes, and the taste is just divine. It will be a rare event at my house to be without a dish of it in the refrigerator. Thanks so much for rescuing us from the mysterious and inedible ready-made horror.

In Lexington, Ky., Chritchfield's, the local premium butcher shop, makes a fantastic pimento cheese with the usual cheddar, mayo, etc., and highlighted with a bit of Gouda and blue cheese. I treat myself to a carry-home stash whenever I pass through town.

North Carolina played a role in my growing-up years, which meant toasted pimento cheese for lunch and pulled-pork barbecue for dinner, both with pickles!

My Italian husband scoffed initially at pimento cheese, but wound up hosting a pimento cheese "tasting" for my family, complete with celery and white wine.

We live in San Francisco, where store-bought pimento cheese is hard to find. I've asked The Italian to whip up a version of your recipe. Did you ever try Palmetto Farms Pimento Cheese from Winn-Dixie? Best commercially made version I've ever had.

Born and raised in Arkansas, pimento cheese was a Saturday lunch staple for my family. Just last year, we had a taste test with two locally sold brands. That's right, we used store-bought. But I've also had my fair share of homemade varieties. Church potlucks undoubtedly provided the most choice. Even now that I'm in college, in Arkansas, I always keep a tub of pimento cheese in the fridge. I loved reading what so many others use in their recipes and have decided that pimento cheese offers something for everyone. Thanks for featuring this Southern treat. Pimento cheese has been kept a secret for too long!

It has been my duty as a displaced Southerner to teach Yoopers [inhabitants of Michigan's Upper Peninsula] about our wonderful food for the past 25 years. At the top of my list for every gathering is pimento cheese, and it doesn't matter whether they cotton to it or not — more for us if there is any leftover. Before I knew how to make it myself, my mother had to send me some from home when I was pregnant with my first child and missing essential foods.

Pimento cheese — "it's a Southern thing" — came as a surprise to me. All the while I thought it was a truly Filipino thing. I immigrated to Los Angeles in 1971 and have been making "pimiento" cheese (we call the spread "cheese-pimiento") since I was a teenage girl in Manila. My sister and our childhood friends all remember making cheese-pimiento sandwiches on white bread (crusts cut out), which we call "Tasty Bread." I do not know why white bread was called Tasty Bread. I can only assume it was a brand, because Filipinos are fond of doing that [referring to toothpaste as "Colgate" or a refrigerator as "Fridgidaire."] I digress. Our recipe for cheese-pimiento calls for grated cheese (local Queso de Bola was preferred), a little bit of mayonnaise, pickle relish and, of course, chopped pimiento. The thought of cheese-pimiento sandwiches brings back memories of my teenage years when all it took was some sandwiches, a pitcher of pineapple juice, some 45 rpm records, a trusted phonograph and friends — it's a jam session.

I do not know who brought the recipe of cheese-pimiento to the Philippines. I wouldn't be surprised if it was some Southern missionaries.

Twenty years ago, I sat at my typewriter with a can of Ensure and a drinking straw to write my college entrance essays. This was a particularly difficult time in my life, as my parents had just divorced and my jaw was wired shut after having surgery to correct a congenital malformation.

As I wrote with hopes of my future, all I could think about was my past. With the recent departure of my mother, a Southerner, from our lives, I pecked out to a faceless table of entrance gatekeepers what I missed most (aside from solid foods) to answer the nefarious variations on the theme of "what has influenced [you] most in life?" Out came an homage to the pimento-cheese sandwiches my Memphian mother regularly made for our brown-bag lunches and car trips in the station wagon. The damn, at-the-time high-tech typewriter would chime, or rather, toll, however, every time I typed "pimento." The machine recognized only the spelling "pimiento," which didn't match the spelling of the cheese mortar I knew. The can of Ensure hit the wall after the fifth attempt: There seemingly was no comfort anywhere in life. Even the typewriter wasn't validating the existence of what I held dear. I feared community college and a lifetime of therapy was on the horizon.

In tears, my father took me to Baskin-Robbins for a milkshake. Afterward, I sat down for another attempt to sing the praises of pimento-cheese sandwiches and their significance in my family's life. I ignored the Smith Corona chimes of feared rejection/associates-degree-here-I-come with each "misspelling" of pimiento.

Now I sit, a few university degrees later — from Southern schools — chewing baby carrots and typing on a laptop. I haven't eaten pimento-cheese sandwiches since my mother left us, and I didn't realize I hadn't fully mourned the loss of them, or her, until your piece on this comfort food. For me, sadly, it has remained discomfort food. Maybe it's time to head to the corner deli and heal some childhood wounds, on white bread.

Pimento cheese? It may have Hungarian roots. We have something here called korozott, and it is even more tasty than most pimento cheese. The best I haveever had was from the Aboriginal Cafe in Budapest.

Pimento cheese... What memories... I grew up in Valdosta, Ga. Our neighborhood drugstore was Vinson's Drugs. If I'm fortunate enough to make it to heaven, I'm sure they'll serve Vinson's toasted pimento-cheese sandwiches, up there, as well as their cole slaw hot dogs that defy comparison, even to this day, 60 years later. Thanks for the memories.

Pimento cheese was a favorite in my Kentucky home growing up. My mom, though, always used Velveeta (I know — much maligned) and Miracle Whip. To this day, I don't know how she shredded the Velveeta, but to me, that is still the taste of pimento cheese.

I grew up in Kentucky, and my mother never made pimento cheese (or, if she did, it was rarely, since only she and my sister liked it). My one and only encounter with it was in 1965 or so, when I was in first grade. At the time, Kraft made a sliced pimento cheese (basically their standard American cheese slices with pimentos scattered through it during processing), and my mother grabbed a package of that at the store once by accident. To say it was disgusting would be an understatement: It actually made me ill, and I've never been able or inclined to try the stuff (of any kind) since. Sorry, just my personal experience.

I had no idea pimento cheese was a Southern thing! I was raised in Ohio, and pimento cheese was one of my family's favorite snacks. We love it.

And now that I see this very interesting recipe, I'm on my way to the store to buy the ingredients.

I grew up in south Georgia enjoying my father's recipe for pimento cheese with garlic (no pickles). He hand-grated the cheese, but the store-bought, shredded sharp cheddar works just fine. One essential is to use "real" mayo — no "lite" stuff. Add one small clove of minced garlic, a medium-sized jar of chopped pimentos, and several grindings of black pepper. This is wonderful, life-restoring food. I send it to friends who are recovering from surgery, childbirth, flu, etc., and they always bounce right back!

After reading the article on pimento cheese, I had to reveal my secret variation. When I was a kid, I placed plain Lay's potato chips between the slices of bread and slab of cheese. It gave the sandwich a nice salty crunch.

I, too, grew up helping my grandmother push pimento-cheese makings through a clamp-on grinder. Also, I recall a pimento-cheese tragedy here in Boston.

We had moved to town and lived on Beacon Hill, which had one large supermarket. My wife and I were there one day in an early September when we heard a loud but distant distress call from a young woman. She clearly was from Georgia by her accent. She said several times, "Where's the pimento cheese? I don't eat nothing but pimento cheese."

We had grown up with homemade and in our student days would make do with Ruth's. We tracked down the wails to the dairy section. Sure enough, there was a college-aged woman looking lost.

I explained that Yankees did not know or sell Southern pimento cheese. I located a jar of that Kraft, brick-like junk labeled such, but rightly figured she had no interest.

I suggested she get the ingredients and make her own. I told here I would give her my family's recipe. She said she'd call her mother.

I wonder whether she learned to make this simple delight or if she had to transfer colleges.

As a Southerner who married into a Connecticut Yankee family, I truly appreciated your pimento-cheese story. My mother's (really my grandmother's) recipe for pimento cheese is the best in the land, nothing compares. I tried to explain to my mother-in-law once what was crucial to its greatness and decided it was the Duke's mayonnaise. There is no substitute. The recipe can't have any sugar in it at all, that's key! My mother is old-school, just extra-sharp cheddar, pimentos, Duke's, salt and pepper, and at the end, she adds a little red-wine vinegar, and it produces the most savory "everything" food you can imagine. Melted on toast, cold in a sandwich, on celery, or my personal favorite with raw cauliflower.

Thank you so much for acknowledging what we in the South already knew — pimento cheese rocks!

I'm surprised that no one has commented on making the "pimentos" themselves. Growing up as a child on store-bought pimento cheese, the first time I ate it homemade, I was hooked. But the recipe my friends used had you roasting a red bell pepper, peeling it, and then chopping it up (homemade pimentos). It really doesn't take much time, that's the way my husband and I always make it. Actually, I've never even thought about buying jarred pimentos until reading this... but probably won't since it's surely better made fresh!

Our favorite way is to also add a little fresh chopped cilantro.

After school in rural Plano, Texas, in the early 1970s (pop. around 20,000), we raced to the Dairy Queen after junior high to eat grilled pimento-cheese sandwiches with sliced dill pickles: American cheese, pimentos, Miracle Whip, on white bread, crispy grilled in Flavor Fry, wrapped in greasy waxed paper.

As a Georgia resident and longtime pimento-cheese addict, I could relate to Wright Bryan's piece about pimento cheese, the ultimate comfort food. Since he mentioned the local restaurants The Varsity (transfat heaven) and The Vortex (good burgers, yes, but the pimento cheese? bah!) I thought he might appreciate being directed to the establishment that actually has the best pimento cheese the world has to offer: the Euclid Avenue Yacht Club (and don't let the name fool you — the place is just this side of a dive). Words fail me — I simply encourage Mr. Bryan to get there as soon as possible to enjoy a fabulous sandwich with a nice, cold beer — bon appetit!

We were first introduced to pimento cheese when we moved to South Carolina from New York. We love it, and the version that I like the best is Jalapeno Pimento Cheese from the local Fresh Market (they make the only "store-bought" cheese that I like). The jalapeno really wakes everything up!

We loved the pimento-cheese story! We've enjoyed pimento cheese in Gulfport, Miss., and now in Roswell, Ga., for years and didn't know it was a Southern thing.

Our unique ingredient is dry mustard. It is our 3-year-old grandson's favorite food!

Thanks for the memories, indeed! As a child in Memphis, the Anglerettes gathered early on Saturday morning prior to a casting tournament at Overton Park to assemble mountains of pimento-cheese sandwiches, selling them all day for 25 cents. I forgot how delicious the homemade treat was until I tried to impress a boyfriend with my domesticity by preparing homemade pimento-cheese sandwiches, using extra-sharp cheese, hand grated, small chunky style. He, from east Georgia between Savannah and Augusta, announced, "The cheese isn't grated right." But we married anyway, and much hand-grated cheese later, when a Cuisinart DLC-7 Pro delivered the supremely perfect pimento cheese, he quipped, "We should always have a jar of this in the refrigerator!" Since he has newly banished peanut butter from the house, pimento cheese is an absolute necessity, even in mid-January.

I'm from central Illinois, and this stuff was a staple that we would pick up at the Kroger deli every week. The food doesn't have a Southern connotation where I'm from.

I was surprised to see the addition of garlic and pickle in your pimento-cheese recipe. I have eaten many a pimento-cheese sandwich many different ways and have never had either in a single one. That is the beauty of pimento cheese. You can add or subtract ingredients as your taste desires. Your can eat it on crackers or celery. You can grill it or eat it on plain white bread. As long as you have mayonnaise and plenty of cheese, you are set to go.

Cooking on Sunday was severely frowned upon in my grandparents house, so usually there would be a huge pile of sandwiches on a platter in the middle of the kitchen table after church. There would be tomato, pineapple, pineapple and cheese, and of course, pimento cheese. Only black-rind cheddar would do, grated by hand on an old box grater, and there were always two stacks: regular and hot... the one with a dash of cayenne. Only on white bread, and never on hamburgers. Garlic was for spaghetti sauce, and pickles were for potato salad.

Pimento cheese can be a cultivated taste. You either love it or hate it, and it has to be your grandmother's recipe or nothing. I wasn't much of a fan of pimento cheese growing up, much preferring pineapple when I had a choice. When I was about 10 years old, my dad wanted us to experience the famous "drive-in" at The Varsity after a football game. I ordered a cheeseburger, my favorite. Unfortunately, it was wintertime, and our food was cold by the time we got it. The cheeseburger was unlike any I had ever had, and it was so awful that I refused to eat there again for years. I've since fallen in love with their chili cheese dogs, onion rings and frosted orange, but I've never had another of their cheeseburgers. Your article today has solved a lifelong mystery... until today, 35 years later, I didn't know it was pimento cheese on that cheeseburger.

What? No Tabasco! Pimento cheese has been a staple in our family for decades. Dad would make the family recipe every Saturday afternoon during sporting events. He made it in the red Pyrex bowl, with Longhorn cheese with the red rind. The pimentos at that time were still in a can and whole, so we had to grate the pimento. Next came the real mayo (no Miracle Whip in this family), salt and pepper and then the Tabasco. I have continued to make the family recipe and give it as gifts each Christmas.

I, too, never realized that pimento cheese was a Southern thing. Why, I had a pimento-cheese sandwich at our Sunday night "Song and Supper" at church just last month! I have never tried it with pickle, but I'm going to give it a shot. With the new year, I am trying another shot at a low-carb diet, and I am delighted to see that everything in your pimento-cheese recipe is "legal." I'll just enjoy it with celery or rolled in lettuce leaves, and let the bread alone. Thanks for helping me appreciate such a simple thing that I have been taking for granted all these years. Y'all come see us, hear?

Although I have lived my entire life in Pennsylvania, I do enjoy pimento cheese. However, I had only had the store-bought type until my mother in-law served her homemade version. She was born in Pennsylvania, but she spent her early married life in North Carolina and her cooking reflects that influence! She also uses a grater that screws onto the side of her table — and it is fun to use!

Pimento cheese is a Southern delight — how well do I know. Growing up in small-town North Carolina, one of my fondest memories is going to the soda fountain in the local drugstore and getting a grilled pimento-cheese sandwich and a chocolate milk shake. White bread, crusts off, of course. The whole thing cost 25 cents, so in the Depression year of 1930, it was only an occasional treat. Thanks for the recipe.

I married into pimento cheese. My husband is a Tennessean, and I'm a Northerner. Several months into dating, we were making dinner together, and he had a hankering for pimento cheese... So we called his grandmother and following the recipe, long distance, and ended up with crispy celery sticks coated in cheese and delicious sandwiches made with Wonderbread, of course.

I gasped when I read about Wright Bryan's family making pimento cheese with a meat grinder, because that's exactly the way my mother made it in the '50s. I still love her recipe, which was basic: cheese, pimentos, mayo and a little cider vinegar and onion.

As soon as I read the pimento cheese thing, I had to smile and think of... Iran. Yes, Iran. I taught at the American School in Isfahan, Iran, in the late 1970s, and my duplex neighbors were from Georgia. The first time they talked about pimento cheese they gabbed on as though I knew what it was. Being raised in rural Iowa hadn't given me any background in the dish. When I asked, they answered with shock, "You don't know what pimento cheese is??" What followed was a quick course in the ingredients and preparation of said pimento cheese and how you use it. I've never tried it, but the recipe I read makes me think it's time to get Southern and give it a whirl! Thanks!

I loved the article on pimento cheese! And you are right, folks outside the South just don't get it. I lived in New England for 37 years and often took pimento-cheese sandwiches to my Quaker meeting (yes, on whole wheat bread — tastes great!). One time, someone was labeling each dish so the vegetarians would know what they could eat and wrote "pimento + cheese" for my sandwiches. They truly had no clue about "pimento cheese"! Would I write "tuna + salad" for "tuna salad"? Hello!

I'll try your recipe, although I'm a bit dubious about the garlic and dill pickles. Mine have always been just American cheese, mashed pimentos, mayo, a dash of sugar and a little bit of sweet pickle juice. Yum!

Enlarge Wright Bryan, NPR

Wright Bryan, NPR

This recipe was passed along to my family in Augusta, Ga., in the early 1970s.

1 pound sharp cheddar cheese

1/2 pound Monterey Jack cheese

2 medium kosher dill pickles (the original version of the recipe called for Claussen's pickles, but I've found that most brands suffice)

2 or 3 cloves of garlic (three cloves yields a powerful garlic punch; adjust the amount to suit your taste)

1 4-ounce jar of pimentos (or pimientos, as they are also called), drained

Cut all ingredients except the pimentos into large chunks. (The pimentos are already chopped.) Place all ingredients in a food processor and pulse just long enough to roughly chop. You don't want to puree the ingredients, just make them pliable for the next step.

Put in large bowl and mix with about 3 good tablespoons of mayonnaise. (I use Duke's, a Southern brand based in Richmond, Va., that many pimento-cheese aficionados prefer.)

Refrigerate, but set out for 20 to 30 minutes before use.

My pimento cheese experience came from my maternal grandmother. Anna McGraw Jamieson came to Oklahoma before it even was Oklahoma: She and my grandfather Robert Jamieson lived on a farm outside Ponca City when it was still Indian Territory. That's not Deep South, but it's not Yankee land, either! They eventually sold the farm to Continental Oil Company (now Conoco) for their tank farm and moved into town. She made her pimento cheese with grated mild cheese, chopped pimentos, Worcestershire sauce, and — the evil salad dressing now known as Miracle Whip!. No garlic, no pickles, no pepper, no mayo. I will try the Kitchen Window recipe, and will endeavor to do it with an open mind.

I grew up in South Jersey, so now realize I was a true "Southern girl" after reading Wright Bryan's story. We always had pimento cheese on celery as an appetizer. Now I live near Atlanta, but haven't encountered it at church suppers, etc. Guess I'll have to visit The Varsity!

I never realized pimento cheese was a "Southern" thing. I moved from Texas to Wisconsin several years ago and wondered why the pre-made stuff was never on the grocery shelf with the other cheese spreads. One would think it would be popular here, I mean this is the cheese state! So, I just make my own — usually once a week. And, you're absolutely right: It is a comfort food!

I was aghast to see someone aghast at the use of garlic! I am Southern to the core, also raised in Atlanta, and have always considered garlic a useful and tasteful addition to certain recipes. I can't wait to try yours for pimento. One of my favorite things as a child was pimento sandwiches — that store-bought stuff on white bread. Does it get any better?

Really, the best pimento cheese sandwich is grilled — just throw some butter in a hot pan and toss in the white bread sandwich until the cheddar is fixin' to melt and the bread is toasty. Mmmmmmmm.

Long removed from Augusta, I still have a pimento cheese "sammich" at least twice a week for lunch.

I can't believe there was no mention of bacon in your pimento cheese article. I've always been of the opinion that the combination of sharp cheddar and bacon is quite possibly the greatest thing ever. I'll be trying your recipe, but adding chopped bacon and spreading it on a hamburger bun.

I couldn't help but smile when I saw your article about the glories of pimento cheese! Only a week ago, I was trying to explain to a co-worker why I simply had to have a good pimento cheese sandwich. She is a fellow Texan, but obviously not one privileged enough to have experienced this gustatory delight. I went to the only deli near my workplace where I could get one, but unfortunately, pimento cheese is much like scrambled eggs — everyone wants it their own special way. This one was way too savory. Too much garlic, pepper and it even included dried dill. Eeesh!

In desperation, I broke down and made some myself, strictly from memory since I couldn't find a recipe. (Wright, where were you two weeks ago?) I tried to duplicate the taste I remember — very sharp cheddar, jarred pimentos, mayonnaise (would love to find Duke's, but they don't sell it in Houston), no pickles, one clove of garlic, and — God forbid — a little sugar. It was heaven on crustless wheat bread! The bread was another sacrilege, but I made the sacrifice for health. My co-worker still doesn't understand. But that's OK. I'll never go out and buy a tub of that stuff in a grocery store or go back to that deli again! Thanks for validating my love for one of America's greatest bread spreads!

Thank you, Wright Bryan, for the piece on pimento cheese! I grew up in Texas eating (and loving!) pimento-cheese sandwiches and on celery when Mom put out a relish tray for guests. I had long since forgotten about it, having spent most of my adult life on the East Coast. My husband and I recently moved from Washington, D.C., to Cary, N.C. Realizing I was moving back to the South, I began remembering all the wonderful foods I had enjoyed as a child, excited to rediscover them. To my dismay, pimento cheese, classic layer cakes, meringue pies, etc., are no longer as readily available as I had anticipated. Perhaps it is because these wonderful culinary treasures were often prepared at home, and now that our society is more geared to "eating out," these treasures are indeed, fading away. Thanks again for bringing the memories back, and sharing a tasty recipe. I aim to buy the fixin's today for a luscious batch of pimento cheese.

Great article on pimento cheese! I grew up in Columbia, S.C., and pimento cheese was a big part of my childhood. Your stories are "right on." My father made great pimento cheese using a recipe that sometimes included finely chopped green olives. And always, it was Duke's mayonnaise — with its unique flavor. Near the University of South Carolina campus, there was a diner that served a "pimento burger" that was a great cure for hangovers, so I'm told. And while I never buy the cheap white bread these days, I am drooling right now for a sandwich just like the one in the picture. Thanks for the memories.

Ah, pimento cheese. One of life's greatest pleasures. I remember it from Sunday after-church lunches — it was either spread between two delicious pieces of white bread with the crusts removed, or cradled on a stalk of celery arranged on a tray covered in iceberg lettuce leaves for presentation. I'm also reminded of my other very most favorite treat from those Sunday affairs — the canned pear, with a dollop of Duke's mayo in the middle, some cheddar cheese grated on top of that, and a cherry half center stage on each one!! Delicious! Again, this was always served on a bed of lettuce leaves to add to the presentation. I thought these were the fanciest treats I'd ever seen. It was only after I mentioned it a few years ago in a work setting that I realized so many had been deprived of this delicacy! Their upturned noses indicated their lack of taste for the finer things in life....

Whenever I go back to visit my small-town hometown of Reynolds, Ga., the first thing I do is look in the refrigerator to see if there is any leftover pimento cheese! My favorite way to eat it is a toasted sandwich, or better yet, toasted on saltine crackers. Good for breakfast, too! And yes, garlic is necessary!

Just a few more comments on pimento cheese (which is just about my favorite food). I'm glad the author wrote about the pimento cheese burger. But after living in Columbia, S.C., for a few years, I had the pleasure of two local restaurants serving fries (and Tater Tots) with pimento cheese. Yum. It's also great to use when making an egg and (pimento) cheese sandwhich.

As a note on how to make it, I like to add yellow mustard to my Ppmento cheese. My recipe is just simple cheddar cheese, mayo, mustard, pimentos and pepper.

A great big "thank you!" to Wright Bryan for his article about pimento cheese. My mother's kin all lived in and around Columbus, Ga. I had forgotten that my grandmother used to grind her pimento cheese by hand. I now have a very clear picture of us kids standing in her kitchen feeding chunks of cheese into that old grinder on the counter. For some reason, my mother abandoned the homemade pimento cheese for the easier packaged cheese from the grocery store. I think about buying it every now and then, but somehow I never do. Now, I know why. It cannot compare to that long-buried memory of my grandmother's rich, chunky pimento cheese sandwich on white bread.

Just seeing the words "The Varsity" brought childhood memories tumbling back as well. This was a place we visited on every trip up from our home in Clearwater. I had no idea the place still existed. You can bet the next time I'm in Georgia, I'll find a store.

I don't have a grinder, but I do have a food processor. I'm going to make some pimento cheese of my own and hope for more memories to come with each luscious bite.

I read with interest your pimento cheese recipe, but when you added in the garlic, I wanted to cry (or be sick). I'm aghast at the onslaught of garlic into every aspect of culinary life, even something as sacred as pimento cheese! Truly there is such a thing as too much garlic — it overpowers every other subtle taste — garlic is the baddest bully on the block. Perhaps you should try detoxing from the pungent stuff long enough to come back to your senses. (Or we should all buy stock in antacids — maybe they're behind all this garlic mania.) I will try your recipe, but omit the garlic, and am sure we'll enjoy it all the more.