These grilled babies were smoky and delicate. The heads have the sweetness of grilled onion but without the heat (down toward the root end is where the attitude picks up). In spite of their gentleness, later in the day I found myself with a righteous case of dragon breath, so be warned if you're so excited about finding garlic spears that you hog them all for yourself.
To my knowledge we don't get them here in Southern California, but if I'm wrong about this, please set me straight and tell me where to find them. I yearn to bring them home by the armload like flowers, and see how many different ways I can prepare them. I'm sure they'd be great sautéed, chopped up and added to potato salad, or sprinkled over a plate of chicken livers or stirred into vichyssoise--or any soup, for that matter. Or grilled and tucked into a sandwich or left raw and dipped into bleu cheese dressing and munched on like carrot sticks.
Dang! I'm getting hungry for something that requires plane travel. Time to leave the keyboard and look for something to take my mind off of garlic spears. Time to book another trip to Seattle.