Today’s Motherhood Uncovered post celebrates the new fall season. Won’t you join me for a drink as we enjoy the current California summer weather?
It is officially fall.
In the California air, a crisp breeze ruffles our hair – the dusk of twilight mirrors the dawning daylight. Leaves are beginning to litter the ground as they turn to warm colors against the cool air. Houses built in the fifties, stare back at an empty street. The soon to be naked green trees stand watch, forming a canopy over the neighborhood, with their secretly showing skeletons giving off an eerie feel to any evening. Part of me always expects the trees to come to life as Disney’s Haunted Mansion grim grinning ghostscome out to socialize.
But the true sign of the new autumn season is the day a package of pomegranates arrives on my doorstep.
Pomegranates are royalty amongst fruit. Legend has it that it was the delectable ruby red seeds that tempted Eve in the Garden (and subsequently got them kicked out of the aforementioned Garden) – not the more simplistic mealy apple. The mythological goddess Persephone was similarly tempted by Hades. As Persephone lives with the Lord of the Underworld, the earth ceases to bear fruit during her absence – it is the arrival of the pomegranates that brings with it the fall of winter.
Six trees line the side of my parents’ house. Each October, my dad sends me a package. It’s a taste of home – a temptation of my childhood.
When I was a little girl, I would pull on one of my dad’s ratty old shirts. With sleeves drooping down to my wrists and the hem reaching my shins, I would sit on the porch and indulge. The juices would run red, staining everything they touched. I’d finish my treat with a grin, looking bloodied.
One autumn afternoon during my adolescence I rounded the back gate to find that my once blonde doggie was distinctively tie-dyed. As the birds felled some of the bounty, my yellow lab had discovered the delectables were not only delicious to the taste buds, but also delightful to roll around in. In honor of Breast Cancer Awareness month, he was pink for all of October.
I have finally figured out the “safest” way to operate this fantastical forbidden fruit is to sacrifice a shirt (go with dark colors). Extricate all of the seeds in one foul swoop. The kitchen may look like the battleground/workshop of a derranged serial killer.
But it will be worth it.
With smears of stain across my face, I am pleased to share that this will be the muppets first fall of the forbidden fruit. May this be a tradition I can pass on to my children for years to come.
As I started to write this post, I had the brilliant idea that I’d end my article with a menu selection. I was going to list a salad, an entrée and a dessert – all with our key pomegranate ingredient. But then I remembered I don’t cook (I will neither confirm nor deny rumors that I have been banned from the kitchen for Exhibit A, Exhibit B or Exhibit C.)
So let’s go with something much simpler. For the parents of toddlers (or whomever once had the toddling type or may someday have an “I-Don’t-Need-To-Napper) I raise my glass to you. Shall we all join in a pomegranate martini?
- 1.5 Oz Vodka
- 1 Oz Triple Sec (orange liqueur)
- 2 Oz Pomegranate Juice
- Sugar rim
- Pomegranate seeds for garnish and snack