I have a slice of cantaloupe for breakfast every morning. Although I regret the hefty carbon footprint it leaves, I am grateful for its year-round availability.
Growing up in Pittsburgh, cantaloupe was a common dessert at dinnertime. My mother would give us each a full half a melon, usually topped by a giant scoop of vanilla ice cream.
Nowadays, I don’t think of Pittsburgh much when I have my melon. I think of sitting at breakfast one Thanksgiving morning several years ago when our grandson Leo chided me for eating melon with a knife. He said, “My mother says I should never put a knife in my mouth.”
I still do.