Artichokes Forever

A

n Izmir artichoke requires, from

us to fully savor its unique taste, a

high level of concentration and more time

to chew before swallowing its leaves, stalks

and small heart. A child is, by definition,

a person of the immediate moment, responding

to what s/he thinks (indeed, feels)

urgent and essentially not very much different

from ‘contemporary urban human

being’. S/he rarely has reached that level

of concentration (enough for enjoying the

artichoke) until age 12, or even 14 for a

boy, thus, almost no enjoyment borne out

of the experience. I avoided the experience

as much as I could, until one point

around the age of 15 or 16, when I came

back home from boarding school during a

spring break. Upon my mother’s insistence

that I should taste it this time (‘it will be

different’ she said), I tasted a small bit of

the heart and stalks floating in the olive oil.

I continued with sucking the leaves, and

my mind/brain allowed me to keep the stuff

in my mouth and fully concentrate on the

taste. I never said no to artichokes in my

lifetime since then. Not only the pleasure

I had was heavenly, but the awareness of

my being able to enjoy the pleasurable-not

at first bite artichoke was telling me that

I had transitioned to a different phase of

my life and my brain had begun working

differently. Urgency and immediacy would

not be able to rule my life as intensively as

they did before.