life lessons from an artichoke

i grew up eating artichokes with drawn butter. my mom served them to me pretty regularly. we even had special plates that are designed to hold the choke, butter, and discarded leaves (which i have now inherited). i never knew that eating them on a tuesday was not the "normal" dinner fare until i moved out and bought one for dinner in atlanta. my roommate thought it was fascination and wanted to know more. later, she gave me a book titled she taught me to eat artichokes. i served artichokes for dinner last night and thought of the book.

after the girls went to bed, i took it off of the bookshelf for the first time in many years. it is a sweet short story about a woman who is befriended by her neighbor, and in the process learns about the prickly vegetable that she has always held a curiosity for.

...we are most comfortable with the things we know the best. but if we always avoid the unfamiliar, how will we ever know what riches may be waiting for us deep within the heart? A first encounter with an artichoke can be a perplexing and somewhat formidable experience, for the artichoke gives little clue from its appearance of the delights that wait within. the heart of the artichoke is surrounded - protected if you will - by both leaves and the choke or thistle. when properly prepared, the choke is easily removed and the small amount of meat on softened leaves yields a promise of what is to come.

i read that last night and thought it was pretty beautiful and definitely thought provoking. how often do we "judge the book by its cover" and avoid things that are unfamiliar? if we are honest, probably more often then we care to admit.