A Perfect Melon Awaits

By Stephanie Witt Sedgwick
Special to The Washington Post
Wednesday, September 3, 2008

When I want a good melon, I don't rely on pinching, poking or even a good shake. I know that melons are a lot like tomatoes: best fresh and local. So I go to reliable local sources and let them guide me.

It's an old-fashioned strategy that worked when I was a kid. Now the proliferation of farmers markets, stands and fresh-from-the-farm programs at supermarkets has brought it back for me.

That's why I didn't hesitate for a moment when I cut into the four-pound oval, yellow-tinged watermelon from my farm share last week.

Then again, everything's ready to eat when it comes from community-supported agriculture programs, or CSAs, in which members pay in advance for a weekly delivery or pickup of fresh produce from a local farm. Only fresh-picked, perfectly ripe produce has ended up in my bag since I joined this year. That's part of the agreement: the trust between the farmer and the customers who pay upfront in the winter to receive high-quality produce all summer and into the fall.

I had never bought a watermelon the shape or size of the one I was given, apparently a variety called Golden Crown. But it was a winner.

A few days later, at my local farmers market, I had my pick of watermelons, cantaloupes and more obscure varieties of muskmelons. I reached into the barrel and took a 'lope. Once home, I cut into its juicy orange flesh and found that it tasted as good as it looked and smelled.

In fact, I've seldom found underripe fruit at the Fairfax County farmers markets. Why would I?

"I don't need to pick until the fruit is ripe," says John Whitmore, owner of Farmer John's Wayside Fruit and Vegetable Market on Route 15, five miles north of Leesburg.

Unlike fruit producers who must pick hard, underripe specimens that can withstand the rigors of packing, shipping and distribution, "we only pick when the melon's ready, when it's ripe," he says.

Whitmore has a foolproof method for judging ripeness, one that is not available to the casual shopper. When a vine shuts down and the stems start to recede from the fruit, he knows his yield is ready. Whitmore picks the fruit, estimating that a typical melon will last for five to six days in the customer's refrigerator.

Buying direct from the farm isn't the only way to get good-quality melons. At many produce stands, the owner contracts with local farmers or visits the wholesale markets. Jim Means runs a fruit and vegetable stand in Frankfurt, Del., between Ocean View and Bethany Beach. He is proud of his produce judgment.

"I do all the buying myself and get only the best stuff," he says. Means says he can tell the good ones by their smell and color. For watermelons, he looks at the stem: Green indicates a melon has been picked too soon, while brown indicates ripeness.

That's good to know, but those who stop by Means's stand on their way to or from the beach don't have to inspect. They just need to tell Means what they're after. "I check every item before I put it in the bag," he says, "and I make sure every customer who wants a melon gets a good one."

Lately, supermarkets have gotten into the act, trying to manage their stock of melons so customers find the degree of ripeness they desire.

"We have a harder job," says Steve Thiergart, who oversees produce operations for Wegmans stores in the Washington area, "because we have customers who shop only once a week and are buying fruit they won't be eating for a few days."

The Wegmans produce departments "stage" their melons, ideally providing a selection of fruit that is ready to eat and fruit that will ripen within the week on a kitchen countertop. On Thiergart's short list of ways to spot a good one: The melon should be heavy for its size; it should not be too firm; you should be able to feel the flesh under the rind, or the difference between the rind and the flesh; and smelling it is an option only if you have a very good nose.

I come from a line of avid melon eaters. My grandmother included melon in the lunches she served me during my school vacations. In melon season, my father still prowls markets searching for perfection. His favorite way to eat melon is pretty simple: Cut it into wedges, remove the seeds and dig in. I've seen him make a meal out of a melon. Honeydew is his favorite, but it's almost impossible to get good local honeydews, so he has switched to cantaloupes. My mother-in-law likes to wrap prosciutto around peeled cantaloupe wedges. I'm happy to eat melon as they do or with a scoop of cottage cheese, a combination that's a little dated but as good as ever.

When there's more melon on hand than you can eat, add some to the blender for a smoothie. Ripe, juicy melons make great blended drinks. Or dice the fruit and use it to top vanilla ice cream.

It's also fun to use melon in different contexts. I've mixed cantaloupe with cucumber and dressed the fruit with a chili sauce-laced vinaigrette to make a salad that is sweet, spicy and crunchy all at the same time. Mixing diced melon with sour cream and mint, I've made a sauce that dresses up poached salmon.

Over the course of many summers, I have tried making watermelon drinks, watermelon soups and watermelon granita -- and I'll stick with watermelon sliced into half- or quarter-rounds. A good watermelon is perfect just as it is, unadorned.

Whatever your preference, now's the time: We're at the tail end of the local melon season. Already, the evenings hint at fall. Summer days and the sweet slices of melon they produced are coming to an end.

Stephanie Witt Sedgwick, a former Food section recipe editor, can be reached at food@washpost.com. Her In Season column appears monthly.