I love pomegranates

I'm so glad I finally discovered pomegranates. I love them, but have only been eating them for the last four or five years.

It's funny how a food can become a fad. I don't remember seeing pomegranates in stores in the past the way you do now. Or maybe I just wasn't paying attention? In any case, they sure are plentiful now, and sure do help make the winter months tolerable.

I was in grade school the first time I saw a pomegranate, but didn't know what it was. My friend, Maria Mucci,  had been born in Italy, and I remember her father, who spoke very little English, showing me this weird fruit.

Mr. Mucci held half a sliced pomegranate in his hands and laughed at my reaction as he split it open. I must have had a look of horror or revulsion on my face as all those red seeds were revealed. I'd never seen anything so strange!

Many years later BB and I were in Key West and I watched in fascination as a woman at our resort pulled a pomegranate apart and added it to her yogurt for breakfast.

Not long after that I bought one for myself, sliced into it, and ruined a good shirt when the bright red juice splattered everywhere. My kitchen counter and walls looked like a crime scene.

I was glad to learn the trick of slicing a pomegranate: while it's immersed in a bowl of water. And now I find pleasure in the process of separating the seed from the skin - the work of it so worth the sweet, tart, crunchy, juicy goodness.