"[Faith] might even choke down some watermelon pickles."

        from The Body in the Belfry, Katherine Hall Page

An insidious thing happens when you start to look at everything you buy and everything it comes packaged in and wonder how much you're going to waste - and where it's going to go.  I guess I shouldn't say you.  It's my problem.  Last summer we bought a couple of small, sweet and totally beguiling watermelons from the farmer's market, and all of a sudden it seemed criminal to only eat the nice red insides.  

Back comes the ancestral memory: people used to take the drab look white middle layer and pickle it!   Hard to say why; I don't suppose it has much food value, like most white parts.  But in hard times, a nice tasty pickle might make up for the deficiencies in the leftover bits of meat or the hot dish casserole.  And of course, after generations of making do, folks started developing a taste for the stuff, and it entered our gene pool or the great American psyche.  Watermelon pickle=good.  

I guess it is genetic, because the urge hit Jeremy and me at the same time, without consultation.  I followed a "ye olde" recipe from the internet, while he created a spicy pickle that would fit in with his no-sugar need.  And now, in deepest winter, it's time to bring them out.  I'm serving them with pot roast, but Jeremy's would go equally well with Indian food, I think.  I'll let you know how wildly popular they are! 

In the picture, that's mine on the left and Jeremy's on the right; I've decided to mix them together.  Come by and have a taste!

p.s. as for the quote - I'm not necessarily recommending the book