Oh, better, no doubt, is a dinner of herbs,
When season?d by love, which no rancour disturbs,
And sweeten?d by all that is sweetest in life,
Than turbot, bisque, ortalans, eaten in strife!
But if, out of humour, and hungry, alone
A man should sit down to a dinner, each one
Of the dishes of which the cook chooses to spoil
With a horrible mixture of garlic and oil,
The chances are ten against one, I must own,
He gets up as ill-temper?d as when he sat down.
And if any reader this fact to dispute is
Disposed, I say . ..? Allium edit cicutis
?Nocentius!?
- 'Dinner Of Herbs' Owen Meredith

Chives in my parent's garden. I was tempted to make an 'a-chive-ment' pun somehow, but my brain is not cooperating. If you want, you can just pretend I did and groan :)