Calling it quits

Those of you who guessed I went to Gilroy for all its garlicky offerings this last weekend were correct. It was a lovely trip up the coast, stopping along the way to take in the various sights, but the famed Garlic Festival left me cold.

I think I’m done being suckered into visiting these gatherings for insert-food-of-choice-here fanatics. Case(s) in point:

• The annual Strawberry Festival in Oxnard is one huge disappointment. State Fair-type foods like corndogs and popcorn outnumber those featuring the main event: strawberries. Anyone who knows me well will realize that this is a HUGE letdown, as my life would be incomplete without these tiny red morsels.

• The Tofu Festival held every summer in downtown LA has progressively gotten worse. The first time I attended, it was cozy and actually had dishes that creatively showcased the uses of this multi-tasking and healthy soy dish. Now, it’s packed with vendors hawking the latest in whatever Americans deem cool about Japanese culture these days.

• Finally, the Garlic Festival. I had visions of leaving there reeking of the stuff, but the lines were so long and it was so swelteringly hot, that both of these factors killed my appetite.

Today’s obsession: Hoping that the restaurant I’m visiting tonight is as good as the one it shares its name with in the heart of Seoul. When I visited Korea with my good friend in 2005, we ate here right when it opened to avoid the lines we had seen winding around the block the night before. We left fat and happy.