Next, he found a cluster of small, pale bulbs still caked in mud. They looked like deformed pearls. He scraped one clean with his thumbnail and sniffed. It made his eyes water in a familiar, comforting way.
Allium family. Wild garlic.
"Jackpot again," he muttered. He crushed the bulbs under the flat of his knife, releasing a pungent, sulfurous aroma that made Liora wrinkle her nose.
"That smells like feet!" she giggled.
"It smells like flavor," Sol corrected, sweeping the crushed garlic into the pot. "It wakes up the nose so the tongue can taste better."
