That’s pork (spiced with garlic, rum and brown sugar) on the left. And white rice on the right.
And just when you think you’ve got the makings of a typical Cuban dinner – bammo! you notice the big, scaly green thing taking up a third of the dinner plate.
At our house, this is cause for celebration:
And phone calls:
"Come quick! Mom made artichokes!"
We really enjoy the time we spend together around the dinner table. It becomes a party when there are artichokes involved.
Besides, eating an artichoke is like digging for buried treasure.
("what on earth is she blogging about?")
Here in California, we even have a yearly festival in tribute to the artichoke.
("she’s gushing about ARTICHOKES!")
There really is an art to eating an artichoke.
("Good God! Is she going to tell us how to eat an artichoke? Can she be stopped???")
Just ask my boys.
They take their time and dip each leaf in the garlicky butter.
They savor each bite until they get to the part where they remove the fuzzy choke and slowly enjoy The Heart – the payoff to all their hard work. ("Oh! Hence the title of this post.")
Why am I waxing poetic about artichokes?
("Finally! She’s going to tell!")
Seven minutes to artichoke perfection. Seven minutes!
("Maybe it’s time she got a life?")
I’m loving it almost as much as my camera, and that’s saying a lot.
It was a gift from my wonderful friends. Thanks, Pam & Gene!
I’ve been using it every day since I unpacked it last week.
("She’s just excited, that’s all. In a weird-obsessive-foodie way.")
Next on the menu:
Arroz con Pollo!
("At least the Artichoke Post is over now. phew!")