Water We Lovin'? Melons!
If your kids behave anything like mine, I'm pretty sure you can't blame me. Unless you're letting them read this column every week.
Anyway, kids behaving like mine are not easily persuaded to eat their RDA (which my boys call the "Ridiculous Daily Allowance") of fruits and vegetables.
But there's one fruit, which is simultaneously a vegetable (more about that later), that my young’ns are slurping ravenously this summer: Watermelon.
My whole family is really into watermelons. We'd be even further "into" them if I allowed the kids carve football helmets from the rinds, which they keep begging me to let them do.
I've never heard that watermelon is physically addictive, but the behavior of No. 3 son (age 11) has me wondering. Every evening, I routinely slice up a quarter of a melon for supper. No. 3, who's the chief table-setter, routinely gulps down a couple “pre-appetizer” slices while carrying the platter from the kitchen counter to the table. Then, while everyone starts congregating for the meal, he enjoys what he calls his "appetizer" slice. Then, when everyone's seated and the food's on the table, he immediately puts three “main course” pieces on his plate. And then he'll eyeball the slice on my plate and ask "You gonna finish that?"
The only thing that disappoints him about watermelon is that it isn't sold in bunches, like grapes.
The next time I find him brooding about that unfortunate fact, or holed up in the pantry trying to graft a melon to a grape, I'll distract him with this tidbit I learned while researching this column: There's a guy who makes a living touring around the country in a specially outfitted vehicle called the "Watermelon Bus."
The Watermelon Bus belongs to a guy called "Chef Harry," who actually is, what with his beard and all. Chef Harry is said to be a famous TV chef, and the fact that I've never heard of him proves once again how urgently I need to start watching more TV.
Chef Harry gets paid by a group called the National Watermelon Promotion Board to go around the nation dispensing vital melon-formation, such as why a watermelon is considered both a fruit AND a vegetable. There's a detailed scientific explanation for this, but we won’t delve into that here, since it involves science and details, not to mention vaguely naughty-sounding words like "Cucurbitaceae" and "Citrillus lanatus."
(IMPORTANT: To avoid watermelon juice spewage - and a subsequent high-octane scolding from your wife - DO NOT try saying "Cucurbitaceae" while simultaneously chewing a huge mouthful of watermelon! Even Chef Harry won't attempt this, and he's a Highly Trained Watermelon Professional.)
I'd love to chat with a Highly Trained Watermelon Professional about some of the other watermelon-related stuff I've learned this week. For example, the National Watermelon Promotion Board's website offers a wealth of watermelon folklore that includes this startling revelation: "Contrary to popular belief, eating watermelon seeds does not cause a watermelon to grow in your stomach."
"Popular belief"? Who in the world really believes, popularly or otherwise, that a watermelon will actually grow inside a person's stomach? It's completely absurd. Although rumors still circulate that a sprouting Cucurbitaceae was the cause of comedian Chris Farley's prodigious girth and mysterious death.
Speaking of mysteries, why does No. 3 son blame ME every evening when he digs into a supper that's thoroughly drenched in the juice of all the watermelons he's gobbled? But, every night, he grumbles something like "Stop buying these soggy pink chicken nuggets!"
Since I’ve unwittingly brought this column full circle back to the kids, let's close with the sort of factoid that children love: How big was history's biggest watermelon?
Answer: 262 pounds. An inside joke among Highly Trained Watermelon Professionals is that it had Chris Farley growing in its stomach.
# # #
TakeFiveT5@yahoo.com
Anyway, kids behaving like mine are not easily persuaded to eat their RDA (which my boys call the "Ridiculous Daily Allowance") of fruits and vegetables.
But there's one fruit, which is simultaneously a vegetable (more about that later), that my young’ns are slurping ravenously this summer: Watermelon.
My whole family is really into watermelons. We'd be even further "into" them if I allowed the kids carve football helmets from the rinds, which they keep begging me to let them do.
I've never heard that watermelon is physically addictive, but the behavior of No. 3 son (age 11) has me wondering. Every evening, I routinely slice up a quarter of a melon for supper. No. 3, who's the chief table-setter, routinely gulps down a couple “pre-appetizer” slices while carrying the platter from the kitchen counter to the table. Then, while everyone starts congregating for the meal, he enjoys what he calls his "appetizer" slice. Then, when everyone's seated and the food's on the table, he immediately puts three “main course” pieces on his plate. And then he'll eyeball the slice on my plate and ask "You gonna finish that?"
The only thing that disappoints him about watermelon is that it isn't sold in bunches, like grapes.
The next time I find him brooding about that unfortunate fact, or holed up in the pantry trying to graft a melon to a grape, I'll distract him with this tidbit I learned while researching this column: There's a guy who makes a living touring around the country in a specially outfitted vehicle called the "Watermelon Bus."
The Watermelon Bus belongs to a guy called "Chef Harry," who actually is, what with his beard and all. Chef Harry is said to be a famous TV chef, and the fact that I've never heard of him proves once again how urgently I need to start watching more TV.
Chef Harry gets paid by a group called the National Watermelon Promotion Board to go around the nation dispensing vital melon-formation, such as why a watermelon is considered both a fruit AND a vegetable. There's a detailed scientific explanation for this, but we won’t delve into that here, since it involves science and details, not to mention vaguely naughty-sounding words like "Cucurbitaceae" and "Citrillus lanatus."
(IMPORTANT: To avoid watermelon juice spewage - and a subsequent high-octane scolding from your wife - DO NOT try saying "Cucurbitaceae" while simultaneously chewing a huge mouthful of watermelon! Even Chef Harry won't attempt this, and he's a Highly Trained Watermelon Professional.)
I'd love to chat with a Highly Trained Watermelon Professional about some of the other watermelon-related stuff I've learned this week. For example, the National Watermelon Promotion Board's website offers a wealth of watermelon folklore that includes this startling revelation: "Contrary to popular belief, eating watermelon seeds does not cause a watermelon to grow in your stomach."
"Popular belief"? Who in the world really believes, popularly or otherwise, that a watermelon will actually grow inside a person's stomach? It's completely absurd. Although rumors still circulate that a sprouting Cucurbitaceae was the cause of comedian Chris Farley's prodigious girth and mysterious death.
Speaking of mysteries, why does No. 3 son blame ME every evening when he digs into a supper that's thoroughly drenched in the juice of all the watermelons he's gobbled? But, every night, he grumbles something like "Stop buying these soggy pink chicken nuggets!"
Since I’ve unwittingly brought this column full circle back to the kids, let's close with the sort of factoid that children love: How big was history's biggest watermelon?
Answer: 262 pounds. An inside joke among Highly Trained Watermelon Professionals is that it had Chris Farley growing in its stomach.
# # #
TakeFiveT5@yahoo.com
posted by Don Stuart at 1:20 PM
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