Do you remember eating your first artichoke? By which poem where you first smitten?

Travel is good on so many levels.  The freedom to try something for the first time.  An Italian restaurant in The Hague sometime in the early '80s, I become personally engaged with a stuffed artichoke.  Ever since, artichokes are an intimate part of my life.  Though infrequently stuffed. Plain, boiled and each leaf raked through teeth.  Sublime & vegetal.  Fodder for poems, too.

First poem?  e.e. cummings   "If there are any heavens…."