Proud garden moment: Ambrosia melons. Two of them. It took months of care and tending to produce these beauties, in soil that had just become a garden this June. We planted them late. And we crossed our fingers.
They looked so beautiful that little hands couldn't help but feel them all day long (we were waiting for a quorum before slicing them open). I kept picturing them rolling off the counter and exploding their beautiful juiciness all over the kitchen floor. Then we'd have to lick the floor.
So we petted them, carefully.
When we finally sliced them, we gasped at their beauty.
And we ate them—sooo melony and floral, mildly sweet, and almost a bit savory. As it turned out, the juice dripped from our chins onto the table—and then onto the floor.
We licked the table.