A is for Artichokes

Welcome! To my new and "old" readers alike, I'm glad you're here. I have joined the A to Z Blogging Challenge.   In short, that means posting every day except Sunday during April, beginning with A on April 1st, and ending with Z on  April 30th.

Some of the 1800+ bloggers have chosen a theme to guide their posts. I'm a theme gal, so I "bit" into that wisdom myself.










To provide structure, I have chosen three criteria: 

1) my theme will be memoirs based on food and drinks in my life, 

2) my posts will be limited to 26 sentences, and

3)  the memory I have of each food (or drink) taught me something about  people, life, God, or myself.



My one hope is that you will enjoy each post like a good meal, walk away satisfied, and come back for more.

So, there it is: 26 days in April, 26 letters of the alphabet, 26 foods or drinks I've got memories about, each one written in a maximum of 26 sentences.

Here we go.








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A is for Artichokes



It was Spring Break 1984 when I met my first artichoke. Strange looking creature, that artichoke, but captivating with its green spiky armor. Normally I would have been skeptical to try it, except I trusted the cook.

My Aunt Linda, quite arguably the world’s best chef, prepared a meal of orange roughy, spinach salad, baked potatoes, and steamed artichokes with lemon butter.

I remember the care she took to strip away the toughest outer leaves of each artichoke before steaming it.

I remember the oak table, with its thick, shiny brown beams, set with thick, brown cotton napkins, sturdy earthenware plates, wine glasses, and water goblets.

I remember thinking what a double luxury this was to get away from cafeteria food and have food served as art, with love and candles.

I remember that Aunt Linda put on a  Joan Baez record, and then we sat down to eat.

We talked, ate, talked, drank, talked, laughed, talked, cried. Being with her, a person who cherished me, who accepted me as I was, who created a soft place for me to land--there was nothing quite like it.

Aunt Linda had to show and tell me how to eat artichokes; peel, dip, eat, savor. Peel, dip--"don't be afraid to get messy!"--eat, savor. "The best part is the heart," she said.

Artichokes, that night nearly 30 years ago, became my personal metaphor for how to get to know people.

Peel their rough edges away carefully.
Dip yourself into their world and don't be afraid of the mess.
Eat up experiences with the people you love.
Savor time with the people who love you.

And always remember, the best part is their heart.