Pomegranates: The Impossible Fruit

These days, my favorite breakfast is plain yogurt topped with pomegranate seeds and Bran Buds. The Bran Buds are there because they’re loaded with sugar, which helps hide the fact that plain yogurt—although healthy—tastes like solidified goat snot.

The problem is the pomegranates. Although I love them, I could crochet an afghan in the time it takes me to pick out all the seeds. Pomegranates get their name from the French term “pomme garnete” which—roughly translated—means “this is going to take all day.”

Today’s mission: figure out how to quickly deseed a pomegranate. Naturally, I turned to google:


Option #1: Cut the pomegranate in half. Hold each half over a bowl and beat the hell out of it with a spoon until the seeds drop into the bowl.

Option #2: Chop off the pomegranate’s hat. Make six long slits down the sides, then beat the hell out of it with a spoon until the seeds drop into the bowl.

Option #3: Fill a bowl with water. Rip the pomegranate open and hold it under water until it drowns and the seeds drift sadly to the bottom of the bowl.

I tried all three approaches, and I’m here to report that google’s pomegranate experts are evil.

First of all, not one of them mentioned that beating a pomegranate triggers the fight-or-flight response in the seeds. They launch themselves in every direction, skidding across counters, crashing to the floor, rolling under cabinets…basically, landing everywhere except in the bowl.

And not one of them mentioned that pomegranate juice looks like blood. So if you cut your thumb while cutting a pomegranate, your kitchen will end up looking like a crime scene.

The pomegranate experts also never mentioned that pomegranates are one of the more vengeful fruits, and their juice stings like salt when it attacks an open wound.

Oh, and that drown-em-in-water trick? Another devious lie. When I submerged a pomegranate in water, fewer than half of the seeds actually drifted to the bottom of the bowl. Many of them exploded, clouding the water with their pinkish innards, while the more lively ones burrowed deeper into the pomegranate, turning the morning into a soggy game of hide and seed.

My suggestion: If you’re not willing to sell a kidney to pay for jars of the seeds, then buy whole pomegranates and use the Patented Seed Extractor (that’s your thumb) to slowly pick the seeds out yourself. Just make sure you’ve booked the morning off work. And cover any skin cuts with waterproof bandages—pomegranates can be vengeful little jerks.