Let's face it: We like to eat our way through the holidays. Growing up, Christmas was just a chance to move from meal to meal to meal with church and presents and family members sandwiched in between.
On Christmas Eve, it was chili and cheese and crackers and veggie platters and cookies and fruitcake.
On Christmas morning, it was a delicious pastry and hot chocolate.
For Christmas brunch, it was bacon and biscuits and grits and eggs and cinnamon rolls.
On Christmas Day evening, it was gut rot.
I mean, unless you want to be me and eat, in just one afternoon, one third of a tin of cheese balls a friend gave us.
To be fair, they taste like eating air.
Delicious, cheesy, gut-rot-inducing air.
This recipe (courtesy of Gimme Some Oven) calls for five ingredients and can be made in just a few minutes, so on the off chance your mom tells you you don't need to bring anything to Christmas lunch, but the changes her mind on Christmas Eve and says she DOES want you to bring something, this is it.
Prep one pomegranate. Or if you're like me, two. Because you can never have enough of that deliciousness.
You know the trick about deseeding them under water, right? Basically it keeps your kitchen from looking like you murdered an elf on Christmas.
Add a couple of pears. If you have left after your husband -- nicknamed "the fruit guy" by the good folks at the grocery store -- spots them in the kitchen, that is.
Add some sweet red onion and . . .
the juice of one lime.
This is where things get hairy because there are two categories of people: the people who love cilantro and the people who think the first group are on crack.
If you are in group 1, add cilantro.
If you are in group 2, please proceed to Go and collect chips and $200.
Stir it up, and serve with tortilla chips. And if you can find those nifty red and green ones at Aldi, extra points for you.
Pear and Pomegranate Salsa
1 deseeded pomegranate
2 pears of any variety, cubed
1/2 red onion, diced
1/2 cup cilantro, diced
juice of one lime
Combine and serve immediately, or refrigerate for up to two days, if you actually have any left over.
And in case you can still hear us over the crunching of salty tortilla chips and snappy, sweet pomegranates, merry Christmas. Christ became man for YOU!
Chris and Adriane