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Watermelon Summer With the exception of the few years during which I lived in Florida and produce was available with ridiculous regularity, the approach of summer has always been heralded by the appearance in grocery stores of watermelons. It still causes that little skip in my heart when I see the first ones of the year... some people look for daffodils on roadsides, some for the first firefly... for me, it's always been the advent of the oversized box sitting in the middle of the fresh produce section filled with these geodes of the fruit quarry. Of course, it would be beneath any serious lover of watermelon to actually purchase any specimen unfortunate enough to have been harvested before the Earliest Acceptable Date of July 4... or so I thought for years. Safely and comfortably ensconced in my snobbery, I would smile indulgently at those prematurely thumping and whacking at prospective melons, sniffing slightly and commenting smugly to any shopping partner nearby that everyone knows watermelon is no good before Independence Day. Perhaps because of those few years in the Sunshine State, when such precautions against the purchase of poor pieces of produce were pointless, a plethora of superlative and inexpensive fruits and vegetables being available year-round, I slowly began to overcome my previous aversion to pre-July watermelon consumption, and by the time we had moved back into territory in which such vigilance was warranted (or so I thought) my kids had been corrupted, and needed watermelon as soon as they appeared in supermarkets. This was my first indication of just how big the world of watermelon really is. Not only was it acceptable to many people, including my own children, to eat earlier than I had thought before, my eyes were opened to the fact that perhaps there weren't quite so many restrictions necessary as I had believed. One of the first things I discovered was that not everyone in my family is normal. By some fluke of genetic mutation, my youngest daughter was born deformed, and does not like watermelon. In fact, she positively reels from merely smelling the perfume of a recently opened melon. Of course, we love her anyway, but until this sad revelation I hadn't realized that such a horrible defect was even possible. Her condition causes her to react violently to the delicate, lattice-like texture of the flesh as well as to the smell and taste. It's quite disturbing to behold, not to mention wholly pity-inducing. Next I began to discover that there were more legends concerning a person's fate if he or she should ingest the seeds of a watermelon than I had previously known. Of course, I had been told as a child that doing so would cause a watermelon tree to grow in my tummy. I began to doubt the veracity of this threat when I first learned that watermelons grow on vines, not on trees, but it went a long way towards making me spit them out studiously, just in case. One summer a friend shared with me that he had been told that swallowed watermelon seeds mixed with any swallowed gum (being as such gum remains in your tummy for seven years) and, when eventually, ahem, evacuated, could be planted, and this hybrid gum-seed would then grow a tree producing watermelong flavored jolly ranchers. Another watermelon inspired tradition, besides the creation of urban (family) legends, is, of course, seed-spitting. Where I come from, the distance one is able to project the expectorated seeds is considered a reliable indicator of kissing ability. However, I have also been told that in other cultures, such prowess foreshadows ones' longevity in the marriage department. In my case, at least concerning my previous marria ges, this holds up... And, according to my soulmate,with whom I usually see eye to eye, well, he says the practice of seed-spitting is really just all about being able to hit your brother in the eye without getting in too much trouble. The most recent revelations concerning watermelon have been just how many different ways people eat them. I had never thught of eating it at anything other than very cold temperatures; however, a friend of mine assured me just the other day that he actually preferred it at room temperature. Of course, this was at a time when he really wanted to get into the watermelon sitting on my kitchen table, and there was no room in the refrigerator at the time... At any rate, during the ensuing discussion, we discovered a divided camp among those present at the time... over half maintained that COLD was the only way to eat the melon, and while I allow that anything very cold is going to taste a little less intense, I still prefer it cold myself, too. Then came the debate: salt or sugar? Salt, indubitably, in my experience, but on this topic we were divided as well. Although we all agreed that neither is really necessary if the melon is pefect. Then there are the more minor points worthy of discussion on a summer day: the fight for the middle-most-meat, the reddest piece is the outer skin's depth of green indicative of the ripeness and/or sweetness of the meat? round versus oblong melons is watermelon really any good once it's been frozen? watermelon baskets: adorable or ridiculous? which way to cut the melon: wedges or circles? what about balls? yellow-fleshed watermelons: anathema or an interesting variation? just how far down into the rind can you nibble before risking a tummy ache? why doesn't anyone bottle and sell watermelon juice, which any watermelon lover knows is the best fruit juice available? In closing, I make one last observation. My maternal grandmother made the most amazing watermelon rind preserves, which to this day remains the only such condiment besides fig preserves that my vastly un-sweet tooth will allow me to consume. And while I mourn my youngest child's depressing malady, I take comfort in the fact that even she is able to enjoy summer's most amazing offering in this form, and rejoice that because of this, we can all do the same, even in the winter months, when even a reformed post-July-only purchaser like me can eat it with a clear conscience. (c) Copyright 2002
by Sunny Simmons
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