July is watermelon time! Of course every July is watermelon time but we are writing about it because Ed saw an interesting article in the Lake Charles newspaper American Press that brought back old memories. The article was by Don Kingery, talking about selecting a ripe watermelon. In these days of supermarkets and almost year-round melons, the art of selecting a ripe melon isn’t quite what it used to be, but we can give a little advice. Bear with us while we look back at the years beyond recall.
We of the more mature type seem to remember that those old timey melons tasted better than those we get in the store. Furthermore we are right! – sort of. There are several reasons for this—we can’t cover them all but will give some ideas about them.
Back many years ago we, Ed and Leon, tried growing some of the older varieties—Stone Mountain, Charleston Grey, Rattlesnake, Dixie Queen, and others. The ripe melons were big—like the old-fashioned picnic types; too large for a family dessert, so you had to invite the neighbors in. They tasted pretty good, better than the store varieties but not as good as we had expected. We discussed this over the coffee table with Charlie Johnson, our watermelon expert. (We have described him as our expert on many vegetable topics and, although quite young—less than 65—he is very good at remembering the old ways of gardening.) He pointed out a factor that we had been ignoring—fertilizer. Back in the old times the best watermelons were grown on worn-out sandy soil. After the land was “cotton tired” it still produced excellent watermelons. The trick was that watermelons needed some phosphorus and potassium but did best with just a little nitrogen. After many years of producing cotton the soil organic matter level was low, and there were no inexpensive sources of nitrogen. Except for growing some kind of legume as a cover crop, the best nitrogen source was sodium nitrate that came from Chile. It was sold under the brand name of Bulldog Nitrate of Soda and commonly called “Sody.” That was the expensive nitrogen source that farmers would use for cotton production. The other nitrogen fertilizer was cottonseed meal, the remaining material after cottonseeds were crushed for oil.
No, we didn’t get off the subject; we only provided some background. Worn out cotton soil was disked up and watermelon seeds were planted with no fertilizer at all. When the plants are small—in the bushy stage—they need just a little nitrogen fertilizer, either the cheap cottonseed meal or the more expensive Bulldog Sody.
This brings up an interesting sideline on organically derived fertilizers. Bulldog Sody—advertised as “Natural Nitrate of Soda”—is the final breakdown residue of seabird guano that was deposited at a large nesting ground that became a very dry desert. It is clearly an organically derived fertilizer even though it has no odor and looks like an inorganic compound. On the other hand, cottonseed meal was a yellow material that smelled very good. You old-timers will remember that cottonseed oil mills heated the seeds during the crushing process and gave off a sweet, almost appetizing odor.
So, back to the watermelon farming process. The seeds were planted on raised beds, with hills around five feet apart. No fertilizer was used but, when the plants grew into the “bushy stage,” each hill got about a teaspoon-full of either the sweet smelling cottonseed meal or around the same amount of Sody. Plants getting the Sody grew a little faster and produced slightly larger melons. But the cottonseed melons tasted better. Farmers said you could taste the cottonseed meal in those melons but the Sody melons had a slightly sody taste. Customers probably couldn’t tell the difference but the fact behind this is that Bulldog Sody had a higher nitrogen content and released it faster than did the cottonseed meal.
Back in the time Kingery was writing about in the article we mentioned earlier, farmers would load melons in a wagon and form a sort of roadside market. They would go to the same spot each year and their customers usually remembered who sold the best melons. After looking over the lot a customer would ask if the melon was guaranteed ripe. “Absolutely! Here, I will plug it for you.” The melon vendor would take a knife and cut a narrow plug that ran to the center of the melon. You could taste the plug to be sure it was ripe and sweet. Of course, if he plugged it and proved the ripeness, you were obligated to buy it. If it wasn’t ripe or was over ripe, he would throw it away and let you pick another one. With the convenience of supermarkets, those days are gone but might return if the farmers’ market trend continues. A person who raises really good melons will get repeat customers every year. We doubt that today’s farmers will plug the melon for you but they will guarantee it to be ripe and sweet.
Today’s melon varieties ripen when they are small enough to fit in your refrigerator. You don’t really want to buy a big Stone Mountain melon that your small family can’t eat. Breeding smaller, good-tasting melons, with small seeds that you can eat rather than having to spit them out, is rather easy. (You should also note that the seeds contain some protein and are really more nutritious than the fleshy part of the melon.)
Now back to Don Kingery’s article on watermelons. It began by telling about plugging watermelons in the old days but was primarily about different ways people used to have for telling if the melon is ripe. One was the “pig tail” method. When a melon is cut from the vine the stub, called a pig’s tail, should be dry and brown – if it was green the melon wasn’t ripe. Another was the “yellow belly” method. If the part where the melon had been lying on the ground was white, it wasn’t quite ripe, it had to have a yellow area to be ripe. Those methods were pretty good—but not good enough. There is a big difference between being ripe enough, just right, and a bit over-ripe.
The old knuckle or finger thump method was a bit better. If you thump the melon and it sounds like you have thumped your forehead, it may be ripe enough to eat, but not really ripe. If it sounds like you thumped your chest, it is ripe and pretty good. If you close your mouth and puffed out your cheeks, then thumped the cheek – the sound meant the melon was pretty good but a tab over-ripe and mealy. You can still use this method with supermarket melons to pick the best for your taste.
The farmer’s market farmer has a better method. He is usually growing only one, or possibly two varieties of melons. Out in the field, he can see a slight change in color of the outer rind when a melon is really at its prime. Too green, and it isn’t ready; too white and it is almost over the hill. Of course he has to re-acquaint himself with this slight change at the beginning of each season. This is usually by thumping melons or occasionally plugging one. After that, he can easily spot the best melons – the ones that will build his reputation for having good ones.
Ed O’Rourke, Jr. and Leon Standifer are the authors of Gardening in the Humid South (LSU Press, 2002), now available in affordable paperback.
