Yesterday, after work, I checked on my cantaloupe and was aghast to see several small slits radiating from where the melon joins the stalk. OMG, I said to Griffin. I've let the cantaloupe get overripe.
So after our walk, I knocked on the door of my young garden helpers (I'd promised they could pick the melon) to tell them, "It's time!" They responded with the enthusiasm I'd been counting on: They dashed across the street, tremendously excited.
We carried the cantaloupe inside, where their dad let Forest use a butcher knife to cut the melon in half. (I was a little worried, but Forest sliced like a pro.) After scooping out the seeds and cutting the melon into bite-sized pieces, Lee asked the boys, "Thumbs up or thumbs down?"
Davis raised his thumb up immediately and didn't say a word, because his mouth was full of cantaloupe. Forest was more measured in his response. "I didn't love it, but I didn't hate it," he said. (I'm thinking this kid should be an attorney.)
Reluctantly, I had to agree with Forest. I loved the melon because we grew it, but it didn't have the overly sweet taste I associate with perfect cantaloupe. I'm thinking this heirloom variety is unfamiliar (the flesh of the melon is a light tangerine, not orange) or perhaps letting it get too ripe zapped a bit of its sweetness.
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