Aril How to eat a pomegranate • Jan Hostyn
the thrill of the
I’m standing in my messy kitchen, I have
juicy red splotches all over my body and I’m happy. Gloriously happy, actually. No, I’m not crazy — not completely, anyway — and I haven’t contracted a nasty case of the measles or started spontaneously spurting blood. No, it’s much more prosaic than that. I’ve just dismantled a pomegranate. Yup, a pomegranate. You know, those glorious crimson orbs that captivate every time you set foot in a grocery store this time of year. There you are, minding your own business, and voila, there they are, in all their resplendent beauty. Not only are they gorgeous in a mysterious, hidden-treasure kind of way, but they’re fabulously — and famously — good for you. They’ve even had their own stint on the superfoods of the moment list. That’s when the struggle begins. Do you surrender to temptation and plunk several in your cart, or do you resolutely traipse on past? The dilemma. Rejecting the pomegranates’ silent plea is the simple, prudent choice. After all, pomegranates are rather messy, complicated creatures. But, if you give in, the promise of unmitigated bliss is almost palpable. Do it. Grab a pomegranate and immerse yourself in the experience. You’ll find that as luscious and yummy and downright addictive as pomegranates can be, conquering them is ultimately even more satisfying. You could simply throw a microscopic, exorbitantly expensive package of pomegranate arils (the luscious, edible seed bit) in your cart — you know, the ones that some machine somewhere has had its way with, that always seem to look a bit, well, weary. Where’s the fun in that? So, which pomegranate gets the honour of accompanying you home? Big and heavy, or small and light? Ruby red and perfectly smooth, or slightly pink and rustically bumpy? Ah, the million aril question.
Generally speaking, you’re looking for big, smooth, and brilliantly red. Oh, and enticingly heavy is always good, a hint at an interior exploding with succulence. Generally speaking, mind you. There are different types of pomegranates, and each has its own unique characteristics — small and pink have been known to dazzle. A puny, pastel-tinged one I picked up on a whim once at the Italian Center surprised me and still haunts with the memory of its deliciousness. With the California Wonderful variety that typically shows up around here, you never quite know what treasures you’re going to unearth until you actually break into it. Consider that the thrill of the aril.
Cart it home — carefully, they do bruise — and place lovingly on the counter, then do something with your lovely treasure, now. If you leave it just to languish on the counter, procrastinating, it will sense your neglect and wither miserably, the juicy arils shriveling into crunchy, inedible bits. Do what, exactly? How do you get into a pomegranate? Painstakingly dismember it, or dive in, mouth first, and loudly and primitively slurp away. Stellar choices, both. You can even juice it — may I recommend conquering that particular task outdoors. I choose dismemberment: wash it, slash it a few times with your trusty knife and take a deep breath. Slowly, carefully crack it open. Is it bursting with red, plump, juicy arils and lovely, thick white membranes — or are the arils a mix of passive pink and demoralizing brown? Hopefully, they’re red — yay for you. If not, well... Now this is when the real fun begins — the actual deconstruction. Prepare for splatters, misbehaving runaway arils (over 600, in a typical pomegranate) and uncooperative, possessive membranes that cling to the arils with a passionate vengeance. Prepare to be challenged. Prepare to make a mess. After all is said and done, prepare to be gob-smacked with complete and utter satisfaction. Keep in mind that you can choose to dismantle your prized pom in a bowl of water, the idea being that the arils will sink, the membranes will float and the bright crimson sprays of lovely juice will be somewhat minimized. Not eliminated, mind you, but definitely diminished. It does ratchet down the zen factor a few notches, though. Do you devour every last aril now, or savour them later? Or will it be some now, some later? A few now and a lot later? And do you enjoy them plain, in their pure and natural state, or do you playfully toss them in whatever happens to cross your path — pomegranate nanaimo bars, anyone?
Roasted Walnut Pear and Pomegranate Salad Salad 2
Bartlett pears
1T
lemon juice
1 head
frisée lettuce, washed and dried
1 head
Boston lettuce, washed and dried arils (seeds) from 1 pomegranate
1/3 c
toasted walnuts*
Dressing ¼c
(approx) extra virgin olive oil juice of ½ lemon (approx)
drizzle
pomegranate vinegar sea salt and freshly cracked pepper
Whisk all ingredients in a large bowl. Season. Reserve at room temperature while preparing salad ingredients Core and slice pears, then toss with lemon juice to prevent browning. Tear lettuces into bite-sized pieces and toss in the vinaigrette. Add pears carefully to prevent breaking. Or, put on plates and drizzle some dressing over. Arrange salad on plates. Toss over walnuts and pomegranate arils. Serve immediately. Variation: Add 1 c rumbled blue or goat cheese. * To roast walnuts: Place raw nuts on a cookie sheet and cook at 350ºF for about 5-6 minutes. Watch very carefully and take out as soon as they become fragrant. Can be done ahead.
Whatever you do, enjoy them. Maybe wear some old clothes while you do it, though. Jan Hostyn eats her pomegranates over the sink.
The Tomato | November December 2010 15