“It has no flavour, very little sweetness, and doubtful nutritional value.”
– Bob Wildfong, executive director, Seeds of Diversity
The Sisson Street Community Garden has become a sacred place to me. Some fifty neighbors and I put our tastes out on display, in neat little delineated squares, some (me) in unkempt chaos, others with towering beanpoles, and many burdened tomato cages. The crops are as varied as the methods: colorful peppers, luscious greens, beastly zucchini vines, and of course all manner of tomatoes. All summer long, our motley patch of vegetables soaks in the ample sun from behind the gas station.
In 2021 I decided to use my space to grow Citron Melons. My database contains a few dozen recipes for preserving the confusingly-named watermelon relative, but the actual melons are nowhere to be found in a Maryland farmer’s market. The only way to get them is to grow them from seed, or to know someone who does (intentionally or not – in warmer climates they grow wild in fields and pastures.)
Citrons are basically like watermelon minus the good part. Native to the Kalahari Desert in Africa, they are in fact related to watermelons – and are a possible ancestor. Unlike watermelons, they’re not especially palatable, but used to be widely grown for preserving. Due to their thick rinds, the melons can be stored (typically packed in straw in a cool place) for months on end. They are also full of pectin and can be combined with other fruits to extend their flavor in preserves. Their frequent pairings with citrus fruit may be the reason for their confusing name.
Because of that name, it is kind of hard to research citron and its uses, but most old recipes are essentially the same thing as watermelon rind preserves. A 1928 newspaper article indicated citron melon explicitly as one of the “best ingredients” for fruit cakes. By the time that piece was written, the melons had already become hard to find. “It is worth hunting for,” the author suggested.
