Pomegranates and Parrots

My mother has a pomegranate tree which fruits prolifically.  And each year, as the pomegranates blush pink, a horde of King parrots flies down from the north and spends a few days denuding the tree of its bounty.

This year to deceive the parrots my mother has picked the fruit before it ripens. 

But who has tricked who?   I couldn't eat them when she gave them to me as they were not yet fully ready.  So they have sat in this bowl for two weeks, slowly ripening.

(pomegranates from Benalla in a 17th century oak bowl)

But maybe that doesn't matter as I suspect pomegranates may officially be the most pointless fruit there is. 

Many many years ago, Aussie New Yorker hosted a dinner party down at the beach on the eve of an important Federal election.  It was a bacchanalian long table dinner, to which we were required to atttend in character as a Greek or Roman god or goddess.   I was Persephone, the goddess of Underworld who was dragged down there by Hades after bursting through a cleft in the earth where Persephone was picking flowers with some nymphs (Hades made an appearance at the dinner - he was my boyfriend at the time - very apt as it happened).  

Daughter of Demeter and Zeus, Proserpina in Roman mythology, Persephone was eventually saved by Hermes, but as Hades had tricked her into eating pomegranate seeds, she was bound to return to the underworld for at least a season each year.

One of these pomegranates would have done rather well at the dinner.  At the time, pomegranates were not in season. In fact, as a 24 year old, I barely even knew what they looked like. 

I have found it hard to find many useful pomegranate recipes.  Of course you can sprinkle the seeds and make juice but these seemed a bit simple.  In the end I made this, a roasted beetroot, goat's cheese and pomegranate salad.

Looks a bit like a massacre, I know. But it tasted piquant and lovely.

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