sneaky. . .

First, I boiled it, in a large pot of hot hot water. Then, I pulled it, limb from limb (from limb from limb. . ). When I was all done. I ate it's heart. Yesss, my preciousss...I guts it then I eats its heart. . .
Just call me the artichoke killer.
We used to get artichokes for dinner on occasion when we were kids. My Mom introduced me to the meaty juicyness of scraping your teeth down a leaf. She was sneaky, though. She never told us about the heart. So, after we were done, she would finish pulling out the leaves, getting the heart of everyone else's artichoke! Part of me is outraged. Part of me laughes because, hey, its smart!
I don't remember when I realized what was going on. I just know that the heart is my favorite part of an artichoke. Even all dressed up at the Ren Faire, I have gutted an eaten artichoke for the heart. (And they make HUUUUGE choke's at the ren faire.).
If I ever have children, I will introduce them to the joys of the artichoke, my favorite veggie. I will probably do what my Mom did, too, for awhile. Just because I can. But, eventually, I'd show them the gift of the heart.