I was in awe of the perfect clusters, so I asked one especially nice chap for a demo.
And there you have it...
...perfect clusters! Plus, the sweetest pomegranates I've experienced to date.
Sunday, January 10
Perfecting Pomegranates
I've been meandering through the markets of Maharashtra, India, and as my first dispatch from the subcontinent, I thought I'd start with my (ongoing) obsession with pomegranates. Here, the pomegranate walla carts are spectacular displays.
I was in awe of the perfect clusters, so I asked one especially nice chap for a demo.
And there you have it...
...perfect clusters! Plus, the sweetest pomegranates I've experienced to date.
I was in awe of the perfect clusters, so I asked one especially nice chap for a demo.And there you have it...
...perfect clusters! Plus, the sweetest pomegranates I've experienced to date.
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they sure do it a lot cleaner than I do it! you gotta teach me when you get back!! xjazz
ReplyDeleteThe pomegranates are amazing and beautiful. I had to look at them full screen, and then I had to save as the background on my laptop. Fabulous!
ReplyDeleteIt's funny, pomegranates have been the latest food obsession in my family. My Dad even printed out an article for me...."eat some pomegranate everyday!!!!", he says. My 7 year old will be counting the seeds today...I'll let you know :)
ReplyDeleteI can't stop staring at that pile of pomegranates - it is so incredibly gorgeous and they look so juicy!
ReplyDeleteOh, my goodness, Katie. Between the luscious looking pomegranates themselves and your top-notch photographic skills, you have me licking my computer screen and wishing I were at a market in India with you at this very moment, being intoxicated by the site of such tantalizing pomegranates. Pomegranates are one of those foods for me that carry not only the taste of the moment but also a lifetime of memories. Even today, whenever I see or taste a pomegranate, a cache of memories of childhood opens wide. Pomegranates were perhaps the most exotic food I encountered as a child growing up in rural Colorado from the time I can first remember until about the age of 10 or so. I remember methodically taking apart pomegranates, seed by seed, staining my fingers in the process The entire ritual would take what seemed like hours to a small child, culminating in the "counting of the seeds," where my highly competitive, older brother and I would compare how many seeds each of us was able to extract from our pomegranate, hoping that the final count would push us ahead of the other if even by a seed or two. But what a horrible predicament to put a little boy in: I knew that each seed I savored during the process was one less seed to win by, but who in their right mind could resist such an enticement? I certainly couldn't. Talk about the temptation Eve faced in the Garden of Eden. She had nothing on me! I'm not sure I ever came out the victor, but my bright red tongue betrayed me . . . and showed that even in losing the count I won in the end. Thanks, Katie for sweeping me back in time . . . if even for just a few minutes . . . and even if only in my mind's eye . . . to be enticed once again, just as I was as a child, by the pomegranate, still as alluring to me as ever.
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