Meal Monday
What is that truism about the harder the effort, the sweeter the reward? Something like that. I believe this age-old adage is neatly embodied in the mythical pomegranate, now widely distributed and available at a supermarket near you. It sits on the counter, in all its beautiful shapeliness and color, just daring you to put in the work to enjoy its myriad and delicious benefits.
Ah, the pomegranate. Revered in ancient times, it now enjoys "superfood" antioxidant, anti-aging, all-good-things-to-all-good-people popularity. In many cultures it is a symbol of fertility; in ancient Greece, it was also the food of Hades, the land of the dead. It is by nature a paradoxical fruit in that we eat the seeds and discard the flesh. I think of Morticia Addams (herself something of a Persephone stand-in) cutting off the flower and putting the rose stem in a vase.
As it happens, pomegranates are one of my family's favorite fruits and I go to great lengths to provide them on a regular basis. However, as you probably are aware, retrieving the seeds from a pomegranate is a tricky chore. Oh, I know everyone has a tip on how to do this most efficiently. A close friend of mine told me she just bought some special pomegranate seeding tool and she loves it. A quick online search shows that many pomegranate aficionados recommend cutting the fruit in half and then "tapping" out the seeds. Supposedly, they just pop right out. Easy as pie. Ha.
I spent the better part of an hour yesterday afternoon preparing pomegranates for human consumption. I tried the tapping method, though in my case it was more of a whacking method. After one too many painful whacks to my thumb, I reverted to the old dig-out-the-seeds, make-a-huge-mess and ruin-your-clothes method of pomegranate preparation. This is our traditional, tried and true modus operandi, exemplified by my niece's fiancé who hunkered down over New Year's weekend and supplied us with a bowlful of pomegranate seeds for breakfast.
Of course, he then needed some special wood cleaner to restore the table, but so what? It was a particularly impressive showing. Let's see how happy he is to do that once he's officially family.
This weekend, the fiancé-in-law was not around, so it was my turn again. I had three pomegranates to tackle. First, I cut them in half and injured my thumbs as noted above. After I abandoned the "tapping" method, I cut the fruit into pieces and knocked out and extracted the seeds. I did have the foresight to wear both gloves and an apron, but I still stained my sweater.
Regardless of how careful I was, the juice squirted everywhere and I spent almost as much time wiping up blood red splotches from the counter and the floor as I spent on the task itself. But in the end, the three pomegranates yielded several cups of edible and delectable seeds.
My family ate them last night by the spoonful. Several more spoonfuls were ingested this morning and enjoyed with yogurt for breakfast. Of course, the bowl is now empty. Pomegranates are back on the shopping list, now correctly and neatly printed in my daughter's hand. ("Hey, I've been spelling 'pomegranates' wrong -- I didn't know it was 'ate' at the end!").
I love pomegranates as much as anyone, and I appreciate the reward at the end of the work (which, sadly, you don't get from buying a cup of ready-to-eat pomegranate seeds), but I think I'll wait just a little while -- maybe until after I am able to successfully wash my stained sweater and my daughter's stained pants -- before tossing them into my shopping cart this week.
On the off chance you have some leftover pomegranate seeds, add a teaspoon of the juice and a few of the seeds to a glass of white wine or sparkling white wine for a refreshing pomegranate kir or pomegranate kir royale.