It was dark out. The night air warm and humid and sweet with the fumes of diesel exhaust. Highway 495’s asphalt cut East to West, four lanes of traffic, two going this way, the others, going that. Speed limit: 50 miles per hour, even in town, making it too dangerous to cross except at a stoplight— lots of trucks, 14 wheelers mostly. And there’s a curve in that road, an S curve. Trucks slow down coming into it. Coming out, drivers rev their engines then power shift to a lower gear. The stuttering sound, well, imagine a traumatized trombone. Then you hear the mufflers backfiring, all this, within the Doppler effect.
I should also mention the house on that curve. And the pomegranate bush in the yard, up close to the road— really close. My friend lived there. His mother made these incredible stuffed artichokes, Middle Eastern style with rice & tomatoes & meat. She brought a pomegranate seed from Lebanon. She planted it on the side of the road. It was now a big thick bush. Her name was Matilda, his name, Slaimen, but his friends called him “Chunky,” so did his mom, especially when she was mad at him, but that’s another story. On this night we were on the side of that road, on the curve in that road, next to the pomegranate bush.
And that night? Surely, this was the first time I’d actually noticed a pomegranate. And at 9 years old? How could I have known or imagined how amazing this fruit might be as I pulled and it snapped free? I had no inkling that the red spherical object there in my hand could possess untold antioxidant powers. I too barely comprehended a stuffed artichoke. That these red bush baseballs hanging on the shrub we were hiding behind could actually lower the chicken fried steak cholesterol of the truck drivers speeding down this road? That it could also lower Chunky’s mother’s blood pressure when she caught us throwing them at the trailer trucks. All that red richness! Bam! Hitting the side of the truck! Antioxidants! Running down the side of the truck! Bam & Bam! Anti-inflammatory, improved digestion, and yeah, the pure potassium, that was the kicker, potassium, it’s always present— even in the juice. Ancient history not only mentions pomegranate’s prominence, but lists over & over again the medicinal properties related to cures for many physical ailments. Google it!
Later in life, long story short, twenty some odd years ago, I’d raid Stop & Shop of another pure pomegranate juice. It came from Israel, pure juice. One day it stopped. Nothing of note until now. Recently I met Mirella, she’s from Italy. Her juice is from Italy, organic too. Pomegranate & bergamot, and another with goji. I have it here at the store. I’m throwing no curves. I am obsessed. I drink it straight or mixed with sparkling water. Alcohol blends nicely too. I hope you’ll give it a try. I think you’ll like it.
OTHER OBSESSIONS: Melons, like the Sycanore orange flesh honeydew, the strawberries, the cherries, the peaches, plums, nectarines, tomatoes too, the lettuce, the corn, summer squash— the truth, we are approaching the peak of summer goodness. It’s all fresh, every bit of it healthy, so good for us in so many ways. It’s what we need for the curves that lie ahead on the road we will all travel upon.
Love seeing you in the store but if you’re ever too busy we’re still doing the curbside routine daily.