Revelstoke Garlic Fest: Ode to the clove returns to Revelstoke

Contributed by Sarah Harper

This article first appeared in print in the September issue of Revelstoke Mountaineer Magazine.

Another year has passed and our garlic crop has doubled again. The bright and beautiful bulbs have been pulled from the soil, sorted and hung up to cure in the woodshed, under the tent and in every other suitable spot we can find that keeps them safe from the rain. We pray for a dry time, to allow the curing process to take hold, a prayer which ends up being more like a scurrying sundance as time marches on and the summer dips into late season. The countdown begins to celebration day.

Stacie Byrne sings on the main stage during Garlic Fest 2018. Photo: Aaron Orlando/Revelstoke Mountaineer Magazine

One to-do list becomes five lists and they yell at us from the fridge door each morning, teasing us about the handful of new tasks we did yesterday that they didn’t even know about. They whisper throughout the day, gossiping about what we’ve been doing instead and vying for some real attention. Every evening they shake their heads in disbelief. But every now and then it happens, a rare moment, when we have the satisfaction of crossing something off.

As we spin faster and faster in preparation for that one day, we begin to wonder, why do we do this? Why do we celebrate garlic of all things? What is it about this odoriferous plant that inspires people to gather, to muster themselves out of their ordinary rhythm to come together on a Sunday afternoon in September?

Our agony of overwhelm seems to accelerate until that very Sunday, when the rainclouds part and a little bit of sun shines through onto Track Street. We have come to know that folks will come whether it rains or shines, and that to waste time wondering about the weather is only to gossip and spread rumours about the Earth herself. The people will come, for garlic, for music, for nourishment and to stay safe from the illusive Count Dracula.

Stu Smith (left) of Track Street Growers sells Revy-grown and made garlic products at the festival. Photo: Aaron Orlando/Revelstoke Mountaineer Magazine

He comes bounding through the festival gate at the bottom of the property and through a wave of familiar faces; he smiles at me and proclaims, “No vampires here!”
Yes, I think to myself, we’re all safe for another day.

We laugh and smile at each other as if the legendary, reanimated and bloodsucking corpse of a zombie were real and then my friend is swept away with swift exuberance up the driveway into the heart of our alliaceous festival and is swallowed up by the pulse of our community; alive with the momentum of this growing celebration of local food culture.

And garlic.

Freshly cured garlic. The real stuff. Allium Sativum. Ail. Aglio. Ajo. Garlek. Home grown and hand harvested. Not to be mistaken for the bleached and sad-looking imported bulbs that one could find at the local supermarket throughout the rest of the year but the medicinal, the culinary, the exquisite and essential bulb of the stinking rose.
This is the kind of garlic that would chase the ghouls away, were they really here.
I watch as four generations of a family arrive together, mother helping grandmother and daughter laughing as great-grandson runs off to join his friends at the Imagination Station, safe from the predators of judgment and criticism.

Stu Smith and Sarah Harper’s garlic crop is drying in their shed. Get some at the second annual Revelstoke Garlic Festival this fall. Photo: Aaron Orlando/Revelstoke Mountaineer

As I look around, I see people that would normally not mix. They embrace one another in warm conversation. The logger and the tree hugger, the sweet Italian gardener who has been cultivating here forever and the transient ski bum who has just arrived. They share a smile and breathe easier in each other’s company. People traveling through town that accidentally happen to find us, and those who have heard and braved the highway to feel firsthand what has been inspired here, meet like old friends. It’s just a moment in time, but loosely scripted, so that what needs to shine through, will.

No vampires here, indeed.

The band kicks into a sweet groove on the Electric Porch; the crooked boards of this old home bend in forgiveness and hold up the melodies in a rustic portrait. These harmonious flavours flow out and merge with the hearts of those who’ve come here today to bask in this moment of freedom from the mundane. No doubt these sweet tendrils of sound are traveling further into town, coaxing people towards the bustling marketplace of Revelstoke’s best-kept secret, The Garlic Festival.

I know that they lurk just outside of the festival, those bloodsucking vampires of separateness, of isolation, the patient and relentless monsters of anxiety and fear, of despair, remorse and futility; tireless parasites of suppression and scarcity, the demons of addiction and oppression; those invisible hungry beasts that walk among us and steal our moments and minds, keep us in isolation, preventing us from truly connecting with one another.

But those vampires aren’t here today. The power of garlic protects us. We can celebrate that.

The 6th Annual Revelstoke Garlic Festival is to take place this year on Sunday, September 15 from 10 a.m. until 5 p.m. NCES is organizing a bike valet as part of the fundraising efforts. Please walk or ride your bike to the event if possible and please be mindful of our generous neighbours on Track Street East. Admission is $3 and kids are free but please leave your furry ones at home.

The Garlic festival operates as a fundraiser for local children’s programing through the North Columbia Environmental Society and the Local Food Initiative. It highlights emerging and established artists, artisans, farmers, growers and chefs from our immediate area and our region.