Cutting cantaloupe today, I think of you.I do not particularly like cantaloupe, but it reminds me of you and so I select one at the grocery store and lug it home with me.
I realize now what a feat it was that you were able to cut cantaloupe so elegantly. Sliding the knife deftly between green spine and orange meat, but not so close to the edge that we ever tasted the bitter area where melon met rind.
My childhood was filled with bowls of cantaloupe, some better than others. Try this, you’d say, if there was a particularly juicy one.
Our lack of enthusiasm back then was not for lack of effort on your behalf, ever the cantaloupe advocate. And now here I am, in my own kitchen, struggling with the space between meat and rind.