Aubergine Slices with Pomegranate Juice and Mint

I suppose pomegranates – that Carpaccio-red juice, those glassy beads – always seem exotic to us, and that’s partly why I like them. There is something both biblical and almost belle époque about them: both ancient and vulgar. And curiously, I feel rather nostalgically inclined towards them, too: I remember digging them out of Christmas stockings, then sitting for hours with a yellow-mazed half in front of me, winkling the bitter-cased seeds out with a pin.

But they fit best in the