Ichak Dana Bichak Dana Anaar Dana

Pomegranate is a highly difficult fruit to like because you never know how to spell it.

In Hindi, we call it anaar, and because we took it from Persian of course it sounds nice. It is inspired from the firecracker, also called anaar, the one kept on the floor that bursts upwards while scores of people are slowly being hypnotised from boredom to a trance, like north Indian family ennui in which you will say yes to arranged marriage. I am told the fruit came first.

Why it is my favourite – I’m not sure, I don’t really have any memory or association with it. It is crunchy and yet dissolves like water in the mouth. I once googled healing foods and learnt that it is the sher of the jungle there too – and so I keep it around and eat it religiously unlike medicine, which I tend to forget.

Once a DIY video on Facebook (and not Google) told me that there is a way to take out anaar dana easily – you can cut it in the middle and hit firmly on the side, and all the glorious seed will come down neatly into a bowl.

Picture via https://www.flickr.com/photos/sarahdera/

Picture via flickr -sarahdera

Did you know the Iranians make pomegranate chicken, and the Lebanese mix pomegranate with liver – both dishes I’ve had and vouch for. A mix of sweet and dirty. Anar makes me happy. Just the sight of it on a table, sitting pertly, ready to burst its maroon and red anaar dana onto the world.

In temperament, anaar belongs to the same family as crab. Hard to eat and clean and that’s precisely why it is so sweet when you finally get it.