Just now, I am eating a bowl of canteloupe for breakfast. I didn't slice the melon. Instead, I scooped it out of the rind with a teaspoon which I prefer to a melon baller. Hmmm...that looks pretty rude without a hyphen. Make that melon-baller. But back to the topic, what I like about spooning vs. cutting is that a knife blade cuts so finely and creates slick, smooth-sided pieces where the blunter edge of the spoon plowing through that soft orange flesh creates rough-hewn shapes that, believe it or not, taste better to me. Not just feel better, taste better. I've never tried to put this into words before, but it's like the spoon opens up the flavor pores where the knife seals them in.
And yesterday there were two more examples of what I'm talking about. I was at Costco and one of those Food Demonstrators was serving up fresh California cherries. She put one in a cup and handed it to me, which I handed to Bob. It was whole, and pitted. We then waited for the next one which would be mine. And waited. And waited. I mean I could have changed a tire in the time it took her to C-section the next one and finally set down in front of me a cup containing a sorry little red pile of cherry parts. She'd chased that pit in one end and out the other, and it almost got away. Put off, I cheerfully asked instead for a whole unpitted one and started reaching toward her supply bowl. "NO!," she snapped sharply, waving my hand back, "I have to pit it for you!" I explained that I'd prefer a whole one, adding that "I eat around the pits at home all the time." "NO!," she kind-of screamed, "you HAVE to let me pit it. I'm supposed to pit it, and I just pitted one for you!" "But you didn't just pit it, dear, you mutilated it," I corrected drily, "and pitted's okay but mutilated is not. So I don't want THAT one." Which really lit her off. "IT'S THE SAME THING!!", she screamed in a voice that wasn't just 'kind-of' anymore. I shook my head dismissively and moved on.
Because no it's not the same thing. Not at all. Sure, the cherry flavor is still there, but the snap of a crisp cherry is a wonderful thing and I don't like soft cherries. With cherries and me, texture isn't just important, it's THE most important thing. Selecting from a bowl I'll take the crispy, underripe cherry over the very ripe, softer cherry every time.
Earlier in the day, we'd stopped at an IGA store in Vancouver for some cold cuts. There, someone was passing out cheese samples. It was a young cheddar, and oddly the demonstrator had both samples in both slices and chunks on offer. Perhaps she'd been cutting slices and then, when she got down to the last 3/4 inch, she just cubed the rest? Anyway, Bob took a chunk and I selected a slice. Bob thought I was just being dainty but the truth is that with that kind of cheese, there's something about laying a thin slice across my tongue and crushing it against the roof of my mouth that seems to taste brighter and better than sending a cube into the corner of my mouth to get chewed ever produces. In this case I could actually be right: the thin slice comes into contact with more taste buds at the exact same moment which creates a little flavor explosion. Or so I perceive it.
Anyway, I've gotten WAY off track. What I meant to wonder aloud about was the melon-baller, believe it or not, and wondering if, attractive little orbs aside, the person who invented that tool believed as I do that a blunter separation is a superior separation. Anyone have any background or opinions about this?
But I do love your sassy side (because I have one too) so I can relate to how it played.
