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Fashion, Food, Science

Complex/Weird Food: Pomegranates

Posted by Robyn / January 27, 2006

pomegranates.jpg
Today I was in the health food store near my house, manually appreciating the size and freshness of their organic lettuce (seriously, screw all other lettuce - I have been won over), when I noticed several wrinkled pomegranates sitting in a tray close by. But Pomegranates!, I said, how can you, latest fruity health craze, be so neglected?! I hear everywhere that you are so full of antioxidants that blueberries aspire to be you when they grow up and you go so well with vodka! Yet so often, in so many stores, you grow old and face your dumpster fate before you can fulfill your life's work: that of helping others.

So I thought, maybe I should eat more pomegranates. Yeah, jump on this bandwagon even after it's reached the local morning news shows, right before, like, apples take off again with their catchy tried-and-true slogan. Ah, but I recall liking pomegranates; however, they're an investment, in both time and money (though less money than time. Maybe.) Perhaps this is why people think they're romantic. Or kids think they're fun, like a toy you can eat.

But for us busy, driven adults (haha. ha. wait, I have to finish this after I go speed-dating at the laudromat and then swing downtown for those designer heels I've been dying for. yeah.) who want all that fun + romance RIGHT NOW, some geniuses have brilliantly marketed pomegranate juice. I mean, POM. Neat-o curvy bottle, full of deep red sexy passion juice that's omg, good for you maybe. It's the best thing that's happened to the pomegranate industry since grenadine! (and even that was a thin veil for the liquid-sugar industry.)

But what could be a better-looking winter drink than one that is DEEP RED in colour? It's like velvet capes and horse-drawn sleigh rides in the snow. Or ski cabins, or fireplaces. I don't know, I grew up in a place where 1 inch of snow caused a city-wide standstill, what do I know about winter?* It's like one big fashion show to me and the POM martini is an apt accessory. My feelings on that are not changed by Pomegranates.org, the website for the Pomegranate Council of California, whose website opens with an awesome slideshow of pomegranate food porn before the word "pomegranates" fades in. Which you have to say out loud, elongating the O and making rainbow jazz hands, to get the full effect. Best Thing I've Seen All Day. And I even went to the hardware store.

Among other facts, they tell you how to easily deal with getting the fruit open. Do you like how it's called "No Mess"? I like that too. Wait. What? You are missing at least 5 more steps, Pomegranate Council, one of which is me getting bored and another of which is me giving up and also saying "oh no, now it looks like I've been spending time with a bowl of blood. Awesome." (okay, it is kind of awesome. nb, I am not a goth.) The Pomegranate Council should get together with the Beet Council and some genetic engineers on figuring that one out. In the meantime, and because this is the internet, which I love, I'm going to let the BBC tell you (and me) more about this "fruity panacea." And someone loves pomegranates so much (and obviously has a finger on the pulse of, uh, fruit trends) they made a cookbook for people who like to faint from hunger while trying to feed themselves. Neat.

But yeah yeah, I know: where is my poetic sensibility? Am I not aware of what great lore is associated with the pomegranate? What great figurative potential? Oh, I'm aware. It's freakin' RIPE and RICH with it and it's been done. Done done done. But we could always do it some more, I suppose. The pomegranate doesn't deserve to be reduced to its nutritional components or mealtime-specific-speed-dating trendiness. Like the blood in our veins, it cannot be staunched by industry's single mind, for though men may crack its shell, its secrets cannot be sold. ETC.

*(Montreal has taught me A LOT. And this winter, well, what's going on? I haven't had to wear tights under my pants at all yet.)

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