Gilroy’s hallowed Garlic Festival returned to form this weekend,
as Monday totals tabbed the three-day event’s attendance at
109,067, festival president Kurt Svardal said. Though not a
record-setting figure, it’s still roughly 10,000 more than a year
ago.
Gilroy’s hallowed Garlic Festival returned to form this weekend, as Monday totals tabbed the three-day event’s attendance at 109,067, festival president Kurt Svardal said. Though not a record-setting figure, it’s still roughly 10,000 more than a year ago.
Sales from the festival’s 33rd rendition rose 11 percent over last year, executive director Brian Bowe said. He said the festival hauled in $2.15 million, and sponsorship revenues and other incoming fees could raise that total by another $400,000, he said.
“It was a great year. The weather was perfect, the crowds were perfect,” Bowe said. “I can’t wait for a couple months from now when we get to mail out checks to all the wonderful charitable organizations on behalf of which everybody worked so hard.”
Festival-goers gobbled up approximately 25,000 online tickets, according to figures released early Sunday, which dwarfs roughly 8,000 a year ago, said festival spokesman Peter Ciccarelli.
And thanks to more than 7,961 combo plates sold online, volunteers at Christmas Hill Park’s Gourmet Alley saw a 23 percent increase in sales, bringing in $612,000, Bowe said.
This was the first year visitors had the option to buy a combo plate ticket online, sending lines at least 100 people deep Sunday, for the second day in a row.
“Lines in Gourmet Alley were never-ending,” Svardal said.
On the park side, at separate booths to buy garlic fries and garlic ice cream – a pair of popular food stops all three days – lines were more than 100 people deep, reaching to the arts and crafts area. At a beer booth near the newly renovated amphitheater, patrons learned the festival’s souvenir tin beer mugs had sold out by 3 p.m. Saturday.
Bowe referred to Sunday’s slightly smaller, more relaxed crowd as “Sunday regulars.”
“They usually come a little later and stay a little longer,” he said.
Even at 5 p.m. Sunday – two hours before the festival was set to close – approximately 30 people jumped to their feet at the revamped amphitheater, showing off their salsa dance moves to a version of “Oye Como Va” performed by The Vern Brooks Orchestra.
As the festival waned into its final hour, some booths still boasted 40-person lines.
“There’s a lot of festivals in the world, but none of them touch this one,” said Hugh Davis, who will serve as festival president next year.
Around 7 p.m. Sunday, Svardal, with the help of a fire hose from the Gilroy Fire Department, doused the iconic garlic bulb, but not before a bit of chicanery caused some volunteers to start their clean-up efforts in soaked clothes.
As Svardal, a Gilroy Police Department captain, held the hose and prepared to extinguish the flame, volunteer Randy Wong stealthily slipped behind Svardal, spraying him with another hose and setting off a brief water war.
Svardal said it was his plan to turn the tables on Wong, who pulled a similar prank a year ago. But Svardal said someone shut off his hose at the last second.
“I knew he was coming after me,” Svardal said. “I was double-crossed.”
After several minutes, calm was restored and Svardal extinguished the flame.
Earlier in the day, a crisis at Gourmet Alley was averted.
“In Gourmet Alley, we reached ‘critical stage’ calamari,” Svardal said.
By mid-morning, fear began to seep into the Alley that customers might be at sea over the missing – and essential – festival food group. Svardal dreaded that, “there was no calamari within 300 miles of Gilroy,” he said.
“Calamari has been cleaned out as far as the eye can see, Ciccarelli added around 2 p.m.
If that weren’t enough, officials also reported beef shortages for the prized pepper steak sandwiches, and Svardal said volunteers were sent to local Nob Hill stores to claim nearly ever last ounce of bread.
“I don’t know when Nob Hill is going to have bread again,” Svardal smiled.
One-thousand extra pounds of calamari were later located at two warehouses in Morgan Hill and San Jose, and volunteers hauled in enough extra steak to keep the sandwiches in patrons’ hands throughout the day.
“We’ve had nothing but good problems,” Bowe said in reference to nearly running out of food.
Some were concerned the famous flame-ups by pyro-chefs would be disrupted without calamari, though worries fizzled as the chefs took to their row for all to “ooh” and “ahh” over the great balls of fire.
“We’re scrambling, but we’re not letting anyone go home hungry,” said Vito Mercado, co-chairman of Gourmet Alley, who has volunteered for eight years. “I just keep looking out the (booth) window and seeing all the lines,” he said.
