What I did discover is that bad, however, is the packaging. I searched high and low for a well-designed, trendy garlic that I could find at an Eataly or Sud Forno that would complement the abundance of jars I had in my fridge. I’d even be willing to pay a dollar or two, or five more. I want garlic that speaks to me (scroll further for the callback joke). This was the inception of my drive to infiltrate the gap in the Big Garlic industry. With a brand name reflecting my urgent desire and ultimately, the humour in my ridiculous desperation — hey, at least I’m self-aware: Dai. Dai in Italian slang means something to the effect of, “come on!”, or “please oblige me.” As in, “E dai, where the f*@k can I get some minced garlic in my fridge that doesn’t have an MS Paint-esque label on it?”