That reminds me of when I first cooked with garlic. 1971, I think. I thought a clove was the entire head.
Growing up, we never grew garlic, and my mom never cooked with it, because both my parents can’t stand the stuff, so I had zero experience with garlic when I started cooking on my own.
This was back before the internet, so I couldn’t just google it, and it seemed like every cookbook or recipe assumed you just knew.
There was an Italian-American woman who lived in the dorm (this was back when I was in the service), and the two of us were really the only ones who used the kitchen with any regularity, so I had to cop from her how garlic worked, but I couldn’t just ask outright, because I didn’t want to appear stupid.
I noted how many “little things” of garlic she had sitting out, and once she’d minced them and tossed them in, I slyly asked her, “How much of that garlic did you use?”
“Four cloves,” or whatever she said, but that’s when I figured out the “little things” were cloves, and the “big thing” it came off of was a head.