Blood Spatter and Persephone’s Pomegranates
This morning I was hulling pomegranates. I’m not very good at it, and I was imagining the cooks at someplace like Shebastan could make quick work of what took me quite a while. My hands were thoroughly stitcky, but I had a nice healthy bowl of seeds, which I now know are called Aril, that I will eat like candy, and pop into my morning oatmeal – makes it edible and it tastes like health in a bowl.
My very cool Mom bought me my first pomegranate – here in Kuwait, they are called Roman’, which my husband said is because they came in with the Romans, but that seems very strange to me because clearly they are Iranian in origin. It took me forever to dig the seeds out. Now I know to just lightly cut the skin in a few places, tear off a hunk and start separating. I read on Wikipedia that it goes faster in water, the seeds sink and the pulp floats. I’ll have to try that next time.
Mom bought me the pomegranate because I was crazy about Greek mythology, and Persephone had to spend six months in hell every year because (it’s a long story, this is just the short version) she had been tempted to eat and she ate just six pomegranate seeds, and so when she was freed from hell she still has to go back for six months and that’s why we have winter (well, I was just a kid and it made sense to me) but I always wondered what a pomegranate would be like.
I’ve loved them ever since. But when I was done, I noticed I had spots and streaks like something out of Dexter all over the walls. I think I have it all cleaned up, but I keep finding places I missed!
But you know how one thing leads to another, and then leads to Wikipedia. I wanted to make sure I got the legend of Persephone right, but instead, I learned that pomegranates have symbolism in all three religions of the book – Judaism, Christianity and Islam. Click on the blue type above and you can learn more about Pomegranates. Read below for what Wikipedia tells us about the pomegranate’s symbolism in different religions:
Pomegranates and symbolism
[edit]Judaism
Exodus 28:33–34 directed that images of pomegranates be woven onto the hem of the me’il (“robe of the ephod”), a robe worn by the Hebrew High Priest. 1 Kings 7:13–22 describes pomegranates depicted on the capitals of the two pilars (Jachin and Boaz) which stood in front of the temple King Solomon built in Jerusalem. It is said that Solomon designed his coronet based on the pomegranate’s “crown” (calyx).[31]
Jewish tradition teaches that the pomegranate is a symbol for righteousness, because it is said to have 613 seeds which corresponds with the 613 mitzvot or commandments of the Torah. For this reason and others, many Jews eat pomegranates on Rosh Hashanah. However, the actual number of seeds varies with individual fruits.[32] It is also a symbol of fruitfulness.[33] The pomegranate is one of the few images which appear on ancient coins of Judea as a holy symbol, and today many Torah scrolls are stored while not in use with a pair of decorative hollow silver “pomegranates” (rimmonim) placed over the two upper scroll handles. Some Jewish scholars believe that it was the pomegranate that was the forbidden fruit of the Garden of Eden.[33] Pomegranate is one of the Seven Species (Hebrew: שבעת המינים, Shiv’at Ha-Minim), the types of fruits and grains enumerated in the Hebrew Bible (Deuteronomy 8:8) as being special products of the Land of Israel.
[edit]Christianity
For the same reasons, pomegranates are a motif found in Christian religious decoration. They are often woven into the fabric of vestments and liturgical hangings or wrought in metalwork. Pomegranates figure in many religious paintings by the likes of Sandro Botticelli and Leonardo da Vinci, often in the hands of the Virgin Mary or the infant Jesus. The fruit, broken or bursting open, is a symbol of the fullness of his suffering and resurrection.[33] In the Eastern Orthodox Church, pomegranate seeds may be used in kolyva, a dish prepared for memorial services, as a symbol of the sweetness of the heavenly kingdom.
[edit]Islam
According to the Qur’an, pomegranates grow in the gardens of paradise (55:068). According to Islamic tradition, every seed of a pomegranate must be eaten, because one can’t be sure which aril came from paradise. The Prophet Mohammed is said to have encouraged his followers to eat pomegranates to ward off envy and hatred.[33] The Qur’an also mentions (6:99, 6:141) pomegranates twice as examples of good things God creates.
[edit]Greece and Greek mythology
The wild pomegranate did not grow natively in the Aegean area in Neolithic times. It originated in eastern Iran and came to the Aegean world along the same cultural pathways that brought the goddess whom the Anatolians worshipped as Cybele and the Mesopotamians as Ishtar.
The myth of Persephone, the chthonic goddess of the Underworld, also prominently features the pomegranate. In one version of Greek mythology, Persephone was kidnapped by Hades and taken off to live in the underworld as his wife. Her mother, Demeter (goddess of the Harvest), went into mourning for her lost daughter and thus all green things ceased to grow. Zeus, the highest ranking of the Greek gods, could not leave the Earth to die, so he commanded Hades to return Persephone. It was the rule of the Fates that anyone who consumed food or drink in the Underworld was doomed to spend eternity there. Persephone had no food, but Hades tricked her into eating four pomegranate seeds while she was still his prisoner and so, because of this, she was condemned to spend four months in the Underworld every year. During these four months, when Persephone is sitting on the throne of the Underworld next to her husband Hades, her mother Demeter mourns and no longer gives fertility to the earth. This became an ancient Greek explanation for the seasons.
Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s painting Persephona depicts Persephone holding the fatal fruit. It should be noted that the number of seeds that Persephone ate varies, depending on which version of the story is told. The number of seeds she is said to have eaten ranges from three to seven, which accounts for just one barren season if it is just three or four seeds, or two barren seasons (half the year) if she ate six or seven seeds. There is no set number.
The pomegranate also evoked the presence of the Aegean Triple Goddess who evolved into the Olympian Hera, who is sometimes represented offering the pomegranate, as in the Polykleitos’ cult image of the Argive Heraion (see below). According to Carl A. P. Ruck and Danny Staples, the chambered pomegranate is also a surrogate for the poppy’s narcotic capsule, with its comparable shape and chambered interior.[34] On a Mycenaean seal illustrated in Joseph Campbell’s Occidental Mythology 1964, figure 19, the seated Goddess of the double-headed axe (the labrys) offers three poppy pods in her right hand and supports her breast with her left. She embodies both aspects of the dual goddess, life-giving and death-dealing at once. The Titan Orion was represented as “marrying” Side, a name that in Boeotia means “pomegranate”, thus consecrating the primal hunter to the Goddess. Other Greek dialects call the pomegranate rhoa; its possible connection with the name of the earth goddess Rhea, inexplicable in Greek, proved suggestive for the mythographer Karl Kerenyi, who suggested that the consonance might ultimately derive from a deeper, pre-Indo-European language layer.
Pomegranate — opened up
In the 6th century BC, Polykleitos took ivory and gold to sculpt the seated Argive Hera in her temple. She held a scepter in one hand and offered a pomegranate, like a ‘royal orb’, in the other. “About the pomegranate I must say nothing,” whispered the traveller Pausanias in the 2nd century, “for its story is something of a mystery.” Indeed, in the Orion story we hear that Hera cast pomegranate-Side (an ancient city in Antalya) into dim Erebus — “for daring to rival Hera’s beauty”, which forms the probable point of connection with the older Osiris/Isis story. Since the ancient Egyptians identified the Orion constellation in the sky as Sah the “soul of Osiris”, the identification of this section of the myth seems relatively complete. Hera wears, not a wreath nor a tiara nor a diadem, but clearly the calyx of the pomegranate that has become her serrated crown.
The pomegranate has a calyx shaped like a crown. In Jewish tradition it has been seen as the original “design” for the proper crown.[31] In some artistic depictions, the pomegranate is found in the hand of Mary, mother of Jesus.
In modern times the pomegranate still holds strong symbolic meanings for the Greeks. On important days in the Greek Orthodox calendar, such as the Presentation of the Virgin Mary and on Christmas Day, it is traditional to have at the dinner table “polysporia”, also known by their ancient name “panspermia,” in some regions of Greece. In ancient times they were offered to Demeter[citation needed] and to the other gods for fertile land, for the spirits of the dead and in honor of compassionate Dionysus.
When one buys a new home, it is conventional for a house guest to bring as a first gift a pomegranate, which is placed under/near the ikonostasi (home altar) of the house, as a symbol of abundance, fertility and good luck. Pomegranates are also prominent at Greek weddings and funerals. When Greeks commemorate their dead, they make kollyva as offerings, which consist of boiled wheat, mixed with sugar and decorated with pomegranate. It is also traditional in Greece to break a pomegranate on the ground at weddings and on New Years. Pomegranate decorations for the home are very common in Greece and sold in most homegoods stores.[35]
The photos, by the way, are of Indian pomegranates, but I bought Indian ones, Iranian ones and Egyptian ones; some are great big and very red, some are more orangey-red. These Indian ones are delightfully sweet!
Google can help you find all kinds of pomegranate recipes, but there is actually an organization called Pomegranates.org that lists lots of recipes in one easy location. 🙂 This must be pomegranate season, because they are plentiful, and reasonably priced, and oh, what luxury!
Here is one of their recipes:
Chicken with Pomegranate and Walnuts
2-3/4 pound fryer chicken
2 cups walnuts, finely chopped
3 tablespoons shortening
3-1/2 cups water
1/2 teaspoon poultry seasoning
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon pepper
2 teaspoons lemon juice
1 large onion, finely chopped
1 cup fresh pomegranate juice
3 teaspoons butter
2 teaspoons tomato sauce
1 teaspoon sugar
Prepare chicken for frying. Saute chicken with poultry seasoning in shortening until light brown, set aside. In a large pot saute the onion in 3 teaspoon butter until golden brown. Add tomato sauce and saute for a few minutes. Add walnuts to the onions and saute over meduim heat about 5 minutes, stirring constantly. Add water, remaining seasonings, lemon juice, and pomegranate syrup. Cover and let cook on low about 35 minutes. Taste the sauce and add sugar if needed. Arrange browned chicken pieces in the sauce, cover and let simmer 20-25 minutes. Serve over white rice.
Serves 6.
Sweet October Morning
Goooooood Morning, Kuwait!
It is a sweet morning, a beautiful morning. You can see almost all the way to the horizon, and the lethal layer that hangs over it is somehow thinner this morning:
One of my favorite places, Weather Underground: Kuwait tells us we have five more days below 100°F coming up and here is what it looks like this morning:
The house still smells of cinnamon and clove and Mom’s Fruit Cakes which I spent all day yesterday chopping, pitting, baking, and wrapping in the crisp Kuwait Autumn weather. 😉 I fell into bed last night around eight, and slept almost straight through until 0600 this morning, an exhausted Qatteri Cat snuggled up between AdventureMan and me. No, no, we don’t eat the fruitcakes yet. You make them around the end of October and you store them, heavily wrapped, in the refrigerator until Thanksgiving (4th Thursday in November) when you are allowed to taste the first one. They mellow as they age in the refrigerator.
In other countries, not Kuwait, you wrap them in cheesecloth soaked in brandy, and you can open them now and then and brush on a little more brandy with a pastry brush. Sigh. I am not much for drinking, but I miss the smell of the brandy soaking into the fruitcakes.
Happy (Canadian) Thanksgiving
Tomorrow is the official Canadian Thanksgiving, although our Canadian friends have been partying and dining in splendor throughout the weekend. If you have any Canadian friends, be sure to greet them on their special holiday.
Wikipedia says:
Thanksgiving, or Thanksgiving Day (Canadian French: Action de grâce), is an annual one-day holiday to give thanks to God for the things one has at the close of the harvest season. The holiday is celebrated on the second Monday in October.
While the actual Thanksgiving holiday is on a Monday, Canadians might eat their Thanksgiving meal on any day of the three day weekend. Thanksgiving is often celebrated with family, it is also often a time for weekend getaways for couples to observe the autumn leaves, spend one last weekend at the cottage, or participate in various outdoor activities such as hiking, fishing, and hunting.
I saw several references to the Canadian Thanksgiving deriving from the American Thanksgiving, but Wikipedia says otherwise:
The history of Thanksgiving in Canada goes back to an explorer, Martin Frobisher, who had been trying to find a northern passage to the Orient. In the year 1578, he held a formal ceremony, in what is now the province of Newfoundland and Labrador, to give thanks for surviving the long journey.
This feast is considered by many to be the first Thanksgiving celebration in North America, although celebrating the harvest and giving thanks for a successful bounty of crops had been a long-standing tradition throughout North America by various First Nations and Native American groups. First Nations and Native Americans throughout the Americas, including the Pueblo, Cherokee, Cree and many others organized harvest festivals, ceremonial dances, and other celebrations of thanks for centuries before the arrival of Europeans in North America [2]. Frobisher was later knighted and had an inlet of the Atlantic Ocean in northern Canada named after him — Frobisher Bay.
At the same time, French settlers, having crossed the ocean and arrived in Canada with explorer Samuel de Champlain, also held huge feasts of thanks. They even formed ‘The Order of Good Cheer’ and gladly shared their food with their First Nations neighbours.
The centerpiece of the Canadian Thanksgiving is the turkey and stuffing, surrounded by dishes made of root vegetables and gourds – beets, turnips, pumpkin, squashes, etc.
Those Canadians with French roots add special dishes to the mix:
Tortiere (a fabulous meat pie)

I grabbed these photos from a fabulous Quebec blogger page where she has included recipes for the above, and for many other Canadian specialties. I wish One Whole Clove were still blogging. In the meanwhile, visit her pages for some delicious and out-of-the-ordinary delights.
Wishing all of our Canadian friends a delicious and delightful Thanksgiving, with many many blessings for which to be thankful, and for an abundant year to come.
Northpole Goodies
In an e-mail I received this week, a friend had a loooonnnnggggg list of Candy and Cookie recipes for the upcoming Christmas season. Purely out of curiousity, I clicked a few – and wow. These recipes are quick, delicious, and easy.
I don’t think there is a nutritious recipe in the whole website! All the recipes are for sweets! Here is just a partial selection from the Pies department:
I admit it, I am not that vulnerable to candy, but chocolate truffles are my downfall – and I am going to have to try their chocolate truffle recipe!
Here is the website: North Pole Kitchen Cookbook.
Have fun!
Joanna Brady and Tumbleweeds
I have a lot going on right now, and that is when I turn to books, I don’t know why. The more scheduled I am, the more important it is that I have fairly lightweight reading. My favorite genre is mystery, and there are a number of authors I follow, some more important than others.
I was reading the lastest Joanna Brady mystery, Dead Wrong, by Seattle author J.A. Jance. Joanna Brady became Police Chief in the small (fictional) Arizona town of Bisbee when her husband, then the police chief, was killed and she was asked to fill his position. Since then (several books) she has been elected and re-elected, and solved a lot of crimes, and re-married.
Now, in Dead Wrong, she is heavily pregnant, trying to solve a tricky murder that involves a puppy breeding mill and dog fighting ring.
“We have to go to Tumbleweeds tonight!” I call out to AdventureMan. “Joanna Brady is pregnant and she can’t eat creme brulee, but she dives right into tacos and enchiladas! Now I am starving for Mexican food!”
AdventureMan just laughs, he is always ready for Mexican food.
So just after sunset, we are king of the road, and we drive to Tumbleweeds.
I would love to say something nice about Tumbleweeds.
The service was slow. The servers were poorly trained. The food was SO mediocre. The chips were thick, and cold, and you could see fat congealed on them. The salsa was dull. The burritos and tacos were bland. No wonder we go there so rarely.
Glassy Shimmer
This morning, it is once again only 81°F / 27°C at 0700 – it gets hot later in the day, but not so much humidity as before. Yesterday, after being outside only a short time, I felt like my skin had turned into cracked alligator hide – the dry heat just sucked all the moisture out. My eyes also felt gritty, even through it appeared fairly clear.
Another gorgeous morning, just a hint of that sulphery yellow haze on the horizon, sea flat as glass:
A fisherman is trying to snag something for the pot for tonight’s dinner:
Change in the Weather
At 0700 this morning, it is only 81°F / 27°C. What a change! No steamed up windows, the humidity is also down.
I love October in Kuwait, when the temperatures swing dramatically into the comfortable zone, and we can even start eating outside at night. We are yearning to go back to the Souk Mubarakiyya after church on Fridays, or on a relaxed Saturday night. Or Paul’s in the Fehaheel Al Kout Mall, out by the fountains. For six months, Kuwait is a delightful place to be. While my fellow Americans – or at least those not stationed in Kuwait or Iraq or Qatar – are slogging their way through the rain and wind and snow, we are basking in a sweet mostly-warm climate, our reward for the brutality of the summers here.
Although – there ARE people who love the heat! I even notice that I am not so uncomfortable in the summers as I once was. Unless it is humid, I don’t even break a sweat when I am out, or else it is so hot that it is just evaporating off me and I don’t even know it.
Yesterday, when I got up, it was too late to catch the sunrise, but what I did catch was lovely – a whole fleet of boats out fishing. Thanks to Enviro Girl telling me about the enhanced zoom capability on my camera, I was able to get some fairly clear shots, even at a distance:
Here, they’re hauling in something for dinner!

(Or maybe they are just hauling in the anchor. 🙂
If you want to see all the photos from the Souk Mubarakiyya, just do a search in the search box to the right and it will show you all the articles and photos I have taken there.
Becoming Kuwaiti and Oatmeal
I’m not a big fan of oatmeal, so when my best-friend-from-college raved about eating oatmeal in the morning, I listened, even though the gag-reflex was about to kick in. She raved about one particular brand – Snoqualamie Falls oatmeal:
And then, she went one better, she sent me a bag of it. I tried it a couple times. It’s still oatmeal.
Where do the skaters come in, you are asking?
Age creeps up on you. With any luck at all, you lose your bad habits along the way, but some of them stick like glue. I am telling you this, because it is Ramadan, and I am guessing you understand a little. Our sermon in church this week and our readings have had to do with temptation, and how if you focus on something – like “I will not think about jellybeans,” then it is all you think about. Our readings tell us to focus on something else, like reading spiritual writings, or becoming actively involved in some activity that takes you mind totally off the temptation.
I think of myself as a skater. When I was an adolescent, I had what I call roller-coaster grades. I would skate along doing the minimum, and then when it was time to get a paper in or study for a final grade, I would pull out all the stops, and I would get the grade I wanted . . . . most of the time. I underachieved just often enough to stick a grain of doubt in my mind that this was the path to success.
Because God has a sense of humor, he gave me a son with the same pattern, and this smart, cheerful, inventive kid did the minimum until grading time, and then he would pull through, while my I watched in horrified fascination. (Have you noticed, you are always tougher on those who exhibit your own shortcomings?)
So, mature as I am, I have developed a lot of self-discipline and patience and persistence through the years, things I call the harder gifts. I learned them from Motherhood, and from dealing with the normal troubles that come through living life, and all that life throws at you.
Or so I thought. This summer, at my well-woman appointment, I gave up my blood samples and received, in return, a lot of bad news.
I am borderline diabetic. I am borderline hypertensive. I am overweight. I have bad cholesterol out of proportion to the good cholesterol.
I’ve been skating close to those readings for years, but coming to Kuwait, I sort of stopped exercising. I haven’t been as physically active as before. I started blogging, which is sedentary to the max. I thought I could skate, but now the grim reckoning has been presented to me.
I really don’t want to go on a medication I will have to take for the rest of my life. I really don’t want to go on a medication that may have side effects no one knows yet because they are so new. To avoid going on medications, the doctor is giving me one year to reduce my weight, and I had to promise to exercise a minimum of 30 minutes 5 days a week. He gave me a long list of foods not to eat, and foods to avoid. Aaarrgh.
Because God is merciful, and knows our needs long before we do, and because he provides generously, I still have my oatmeal, which I have now pulled our and am eating regularly. I eat it Pacific Northwest Style – with blueberries and raspberries, which are also supposed to be good for me.
I found something else in the US that I love, but I can’t find it here – or at least not yet. Have you seen Kashi Pilaf or Kashi breakfast cereal?
I know I promised not to post any food photos while you are fasting, but oatmeal? To me, oatmeal doesn’t even count, it’s like medicine, like who on earth yearns for oatmeal?
Dinner at Girardi’s Osteria in Edmonds
It was one of those magical not-to-be-predicted warm summer evenings in Seattle. We’ve had a funny week, alternating rain and bright, sunny days. This happened to be one of those bright sunny ones, and Sparkle and Mariner Man had invited Mom and me to dinner. They picked a place I had never been and had been interested in trying.

Oh! Wow!
I got there early, and thought I would take a quick look at the menu, posted outside. I’ve always loved it that in Europe, it is a requirement, so you can get a look to see what is offered before you go in and sit down and then discover that they don’t make what you have your heart set on. But I only had time for a quick glance before I heard Wooo Hooooos, and people calling my name; Sparkle and Mariner Man and my Mom had made it to the restaurant just minutes before I did.
They were waiting patiently, and what a great wait – Sparkle was sipping a pomegranate martini, and I had something red, dry and Italian – wine. We all started with crab cakes, which, I am sorry to say, were so good we just went right ahead and ate them and I didn’t even think to photograph. When the main courses arrived, Mariner Man pulled out his camera, thank God, or I might have just jumped right in and forgotten all about you!
I had the very delicious antipasti salad – with grilled shrimp. The shrimp had a delicious smokey flavor, and the salad was perfect for a warm summer night. They grate the fresh Parmesan over your salad – I was engrossed in conversation with Mariner Man over some camera technicalities before I noticed that my salad was getting LOADED with Parmesan and said “Whoa!”

Mom had the Veal Scallopine, very mild, very tender, very delicious:

She said that as a bonus, the carrots were parboiled, so that they were still crunchy, but not crisp, and were sweet and tender. She loved those carrots.
Sparkle started with the Tricolore Salad (Caprese: tomato slices with mozarella, basil and balsamic vinegar) That had an awesome basil pesto with it, then proceeded to the Pollo Putanesca – WOW. That is one of my favorite sauces, and when it is done well, it is awesome. This one was amazing – full of kalamata olives, anchovies, capers – and was intensely flavorful. She ate every bite (except the one she shared with me so I could taste 🙂 )

Mariner Man started with a Ceasar salad – again, WOW, the real thing, served with a whole anchovy and slices of parmesan cheese, and then his main course – Pollo Masala – which was better than good – it was amazing!

The dessert list was also amazing. Creme Caramel. Tiramisu. A whole list of sorbets. We all looked at it, and then looked at each other in dismay – we hadn’t saved any room! We were stuffed!
I would go to Girardi’s again in a heartbeat. The service was friendly without being intrusive, the atmosphere was comfortable and elegant, and the food was delicious. Thank you, Sparkle! Thank you, Mariner Man!
Daily Odds and Ends
This cat was found as a kitten; he’d been hit by a car. The man who found him paid $1400 to get him well again. Now he had a home where he is happy, has special furniture just for him, and a life where he is treasured. His name is Lucky. He looks crabby, but he is a sweetheart:

Lucky lives next door to an Ethiopian Grocery store:

In an antique store, I found this unique display:

I’m crazy about old silver, and these pieces knocked my socks off. I am guessing it is old hotel silver – I didn’t ask.

I talked my military-wife-friend into going back to Tai-Ho’s and this time we tried their famous noodle soup with meat and chinese pickles. It is to die for!

Mom called as we were saying goodbye to say that if I was anywhere near the coast, there was going to be a fabulous sunset with magnificent clouds:















