The metaphor-producing part of my brain has served up another:
                         Knowing God is like eating an artichoke.
    To begin with, very few people eat artichokes. Anyone could – given an artichoke – but one has to know where to begin.
    An artichoke is a good metaphor for monotheism: it is one thing, but you never eat it whole. Eating an artichoke is not like eating a grape – or an apple.
    You begin by eating the spiny outer leaves, which are tough and contain little nourishment, though the hint of flavor is intriguing. You may find it easier if you dip these leaves in ritual, like mayonnaise. If you find bad things – insects, grit, mold – in your artichoke, it will be in these outer leaves. Many give up on artichokes altogether at this point.
    The layers of an onion are pretty much the same all the way through, and you may expect this of an artichoke, but it is not true.
    As you peel off deeper leaves, you find more and more substance to them, and less to discard; the flavor is more concentrated. You begin to feel you understand the eating of artichokes, and that the time it takes is well spent.
    You suddenly come to the last of the leaves you can peel off and eat as you are accustomed to. There are a few thin leaves, and then a mass of fibers at the center. What is this stuff in my artichoke?
    If you see artichokes in the field, and not just cooked on your plate, you learn the center of the artichoke is not for eating: it is a flower of a beautiful blue color, exposed when the bud you are eating is fully ripe. It is appreciated not by the tongue, but by other senses – the eye and the fingertip, touching its softness amidst the spines. You just picked it too soon.
    Setting aside the immature flower, you find there is still nourishment to be had: not in the leaves, but in the top of the stem, which you ignored until now. You eat this part of the artichoke by cutting off the last of the husk, and then dividing it into four small bites. Each bite is to be savored; its flavor is indescribable, and you always want more.
    If you ask me, I can tell you how to begin, but I cannot tell you the taste of the heart of the artichoke. All I can say is, “I really like artichokes. Try one for yourself.”

-Eric E. Sabelman
3 July, 2011