I spent last week on the coast of Northern California, splitting the time between Marin County north of San Francisco, and Big Sur to the south. We drove north to south in the middle of the week, through golden hills and irrigated rows of green. Suddenly, with fields all around, I sniffed. Had I forgot to wash my hands after last night's garlicky pasta dinner? No — even that wouldn't give off this garlic pungence, this scent of a thousand garlic cloves minced and oily. Welcome to Gilroy, California, the capital of garlic. Here, in honor of Gilroy, for all you garlic-lovers, is a pasta salad with not one, not two, but three whole heads of garlic.