Editor’s note: Ever since this was posted (actually, exactly three years ago), it has gotten the most traffic of anything else I’ve written. Evidently, lots of people are just as clueless as I was about pomegranate seeds and scour google to figure it out. In their honor, and in honor of the season, here we go again….
Who doesn’t like pomegranates? Certainly, I’ve always been a big fan. But I rarely eat them. Since I went to a Jewish day school for elementary school, we got pomegranates every fall as part of holiday celebrations (we got carob, too, but no one actually ate the carob), and that was really where I got most of my fix. My mother, ever the pragmatist, never wanted to buy them, because of the work (and mess) involved. A no-nonsense woman, my mother is. Pancakes for breakfast also often fell into that category, but that’s a whole different story.
So, yes, pomegranates.
Not only did my mother DEPRIVE ME of pomegranates, but I never even started buying them for myself because I just found them incredibly frustrating. All those little seeds! I got about a half-second of pomegranate enjoyment out of it and then would have to deal with the seed, which has always been bothersome to me. Why does such a fabulous fruit have to be so freakin’ annoying? I have no idea. I gave up trying long long ago.
On Thanksgiving a few years ago (my favorite holiday, actually, celebrated with my immediate family and one other family every year) there was a lovely salad topped with a sprinkling of pomegranate seeds. I sighed to myself. Pomegranates had floated to the top of the American food charts, which was fine with me, but I still was wary about confronting them. Such a total pain in the ass. But, like I said, “Who doesn’t like pomegranates?” No one. Exactly. So I started eating my salad, trying to carefully get rid of the seeds without (a) spitting them onto anyone; or (b) having them get in the way of the rest of the salad. And in my borderline OCD way, I had them lined up all together on the side of my plate, safely out of the way.
Halfway through the course, my friend turned to me and said, “Sara, what the hell are you doing? Why are you spitting out the seeds???” The table went quiet. “What do you mean, why am I spitting out the seeds? They’re seeds. They get spit out.”
She laughs. “No, you’re supposed to eat pomegranate seeds.”
“You are? Really? So all these years I’ve been not eating pomegranates because of the seeds and now you’re telling me I could have been eating them the whole time???” The table erupts in laughter. I try to eat one and crunch on the seed, but, honestly, I’m just not into it and keep accumulating seeds on the side of my plate.
I can’t get behind this seed eating thing. I’ve tried, really I have. This was at least two years ago, and pomegranates still make me a little sad. Then, when I was in LA last month, I took home a few pomegranates from my friend’s tree. She had far too many and insisted that we take some. I took a few thinking to myself, “What a waste. I’m never going to eat these things.”
This morning I decided to break into one and try it. Either I’d open the damn fruit and give up or the thing would just sit in the fruit bowl from now til eternity. Worst case scenario? I’d enjoy it. So I opened it up, got all the seeds out and gave it a go. It took a few tries, but I think I actually got the hang of how to crunch on those things and not get too annoyed.
Honestly, I can’t tell you how relieved I am.