My mother adores watermelons with herring, her friend cannot imagine a watermelon without black bread, and another friend sprinkles it with salt, sesame, and balsamic vinegar. Each of them claims that this is the most delicious way to eat watermelon. So recently I tried to recall which watermelon was the most delicious for me. It was a watermelon with extreme.
“Going to the watermelon field” is a very ancient rural entertainment. Even if you have bags and bags of those watermelons at home – you don’t know the real taste of watermelon until you go to that guy with a gun one dark August night. That almost unripe watermelon will be the most delicious because it was seasoned with a fair share of extreme.
Hikes to the watermelon field were considered in the village more like a sport than a crime or theft because everyone knew that even that evil guy with a gun was also “going to the watermelon field” during his times. Somehow, I helped grandmother Motrya around the house, I had noticed that she is making “a nest” in the cornfield, puts a pitchfork there. I asked: “Granny, what do you have there?” And she says “Ambush, baby, those “devils” are going to come to the watermelon field soon”. She says all that words, and the blush appears on her face itself, eyes are glowing, she smiles. It seemed to me that Granny Motrya was absolutely happy only once a year – just when the “devils” were going to the watermelon field.
The brothers told me that Granny Motrya had the most delicious watermelons, because nobody scolded them so much, and nowhere with such a whistle, were sticks and clods flying over them. And then the eldest added, “Well yes, that woman had great watermelons, even those that are pumpkins”. And everyone laughed because this family story is known up to now. One of the brothers went for the watermelon, Granny Motrya let him closer, the night was dark, and the brother groped the biggest watermelon, and when he pulled it, then of a sudden this woman strikes his back with a pitchfork. He was running like Usain Bolt, but hadn’t dropped the “watermelon”. Then he cut it, ate it, saying that, the watermelon was good like three kinds of honey, until one of the brothers brought some light it and saw that it was a big yellow pumpkin.
When I grew up to the age, when “you can go to the watermelon field”, then Granny Motrya was completely old, brothers were married and learned how to protect their watermelons. So one day I was walking around her yard, she called me, I came up and the woman said: “Watermelons harvest is so good this year! ( saying this she winks) I’ll be there in the sunflowers, and you come from the road. Do you understand?”
So, my friends and I went there, we took only one, and then the woman started shouting and swearing, so I had never heard anything like that in my life, clods flew in the back. We ran at an inhuman speed, completed our escape and cut the watermelon. It was only a little bit pinkish but so tasty! Such a delicious watermelon I’ve never eaten in my whole life again because it was the one with extreme. You could eat it, diving with your face to the very bottom of it, absorbing all the juice.
Today I’m not going to anybody’s garden, and who knows, whether someone remembers this ancient tradition of a hike to the watermelon field. This way the rural youth was initiated. Now it is likely to be perceived as a theft. But every time I bring a watermelon from the store (the one I’ve selected and paid for), I recall the bushes and the taste of that almost unripe watermelon. Granny Motrya had the tastiest watermelons in the world!