Enchildas, anyone?

Yeah, so, this wasn't my brightest moment.  I think I was seventeen.  A boy that I was trying to impress was coming over and I decided I was going to cook for him.  Why I thought I could win his heart with culinary skills that I certainly didn't have, I don't know.  Like I said, I've had better moments.  So I went through my mom's cookbooks and chose garlic enchiladas.  Random.  And for a date?  Really?  Where was my brain?  Anyway, the recipe may have said something about using a few cloves of garlic and, uh..... I may have thought a whole bulb was called a clove.  There were three bulbs of garlic stuffed into my special meal for this boy!  A special meal, indeed.  He was a sport about it, but when he saw that I couldn't even take more than one bite he was through with the pretending.  We went out a few more times after that, shockingly enough, but I never cooked for him again!

Fast forward to this picture of my fridge today.  Clearly I still have a problem gauging the measurement of garlic.  This gargantuan tub expires 12/2/2012 and the clock is ticking.  Enchiladas, anyone?