One does not simply eat a pomegranate

I'm not an idiot. I could tell you couldn't just bite the thing open, so I took a knife to the beast. On the outside was a heart-shaped POM sticker. On the inside things were much less cozy; splayed open, the beast's cross-section looked like a wall from a Halo 3 level set in Flood HQ.

A red liquid spilled onto the cutting board -- later I would learn that the stain from this claret was nearly impossible to remove from wood without sandpaper. I had hoped that once the beast was divided it would be conquered, but it was obvious that this was no mere collection of simple drupes. The challenge this produce presented was much more formidable than that even of a grapefruit.

The pomegranate had seized the initiative and with bloody juices leaking over my kitchen table I was forced to react. I ran to the cupboard to grab a bowl and a spoon then returned to my seat and tossed the foul abomination into the bowl. I set myself to the task of extracting the red globules from the beast's innards on the presumption that they were the edible component. Mixed with the globules was a white, fibrous tissue pervading the fruit's innards in a three-dimensional fractal pattern. I could not be sure that this mess of white tissue was not poisonous so I had to extract carefully.

As I painstakingly worked my way through the beast's innards, I wondered if there was not a better way to separate the seeds from the rest of the fruit. I considered checking ye olde internet but I had already surpassed the time allotted for breakfast while still needing to replace my dress shirt that was now speckled with maroon blemishes. Hungry as I was from not eating since the evening previous and needing victuals to sustain my wavering stamina through the workday, I had no choice but to push on down the obscured path I had set upon in what struck me now as a bout of the utmost foolishness.

Some difficult tasks become easier as they progress while others wear you down with each costly step so that the finish line appears to recede faster than you make progress. Disassembling a pomegranate certainly falls into the latter category. Its arils are oddly adhesive to each other and frustrating to detach but once isolated they bear no affinity for stainless steel spoons. Finally, after an interminable period of suffering, I had collected a hundred or so red casings in the bottom of my bowl. It was hard to fathom that there were more calories there than I had expended collecting them.

With gusto, I set upon my prey. "From hell's heart, I bite at thee!" I shouted through my mastications as the seeds sprayed bitter burgundy against my hapless taste buds and scorched my molars with discolouring fluids. I was shocked by how bitter the embryos could be despite being 90% bland seed. It was like eating bird seed coated in acidic tonic water. My limited experience with POM pomegranate juice had led me to believe that pomegranates are a naturally sweet fruit, but it was evident that I had once again underestimated the processed drink industry's reliance on sugar to make its products palatable.

Despite these tribulations, I persevered until none of the wee bastards lay against my fiestaware. I took great satisfaction in the knowledge that each seed I consumed was one less that could germinate into another beast. Battered but victorious, I cast the empty bowl into the sink and scoured it with a blast of hot water then threw the beast's hollowed half-shell into the compost with more force than was absolutely necessary.

Final verdict: pomegranates are a pass. You are much better off sticking with grapefruit if you want to take 20 minutes to eat half of something. Eugenio's Four-Cheese Pizza on the other hand, is definitely not a pass. Take it away Leonard!