In Defense of the Melon

A Fruit Undeservedly Slandered

Melons, members of the Cucurbitaceae family (a name as juicy as the fruit itself), have been cultivated for over 4,000 years. Cleopatra was rumored to favor them. Charlemagne ordered their cultivation in the royal gardens. The ancient Egyptians left behind frescoes of melons because obviously you’d want to commemorate greatness in pigment. And the Japanese Yubari King melon? It once sold for $45,000 at auction. That’s not a typo. That’s a financial statement.

Yet somehow, despite this rich and storied heritage, melons today are regarded by some as “meh.” Filler fruit. Buffet deadweight. The bland cousin in the fruit salad family.

To which I say: what is wrong with you?

A ripe honeydew is the soft whisper of sweetness. Cantaloupe is like sunshine with restraint: a golden glow that gently revives. Watermelon is the edible equivalent of flipping your pillow to the cool side—refreshing, generous, and briefly vivifying. Sure, it's mostly water, and gloriously so. Understated. Never flashy. Never cloying. Melons have the humility of fruit nobility.

They aren’t overwhelming. They’re subtle, sweet, and hydrating—fruit with a sense of boundaries. And let’s not overlook the rind: a natural vault, sealed tight to keep the fruit inside untouched and pristine until its perfect moment. Unlike berries, which collapse under a strong stare or the beak of a passing bird, melons protect themselves. They take their time to grow and rely on that armor. But when they’re ready? They’re entirely worth the wait.

And yet. A close friend—trusted advisor, confidant, spiritual consultant in times of crisis—had the audacity to suggest melons might not be… good? That perhaps their presence in the fruit bowl was obligatory, not celebratory?

I doubted myself. For one unhinged afternoon, I looked at a watermelon and thought, maybe you are just a disappointment.

But then I bit in. And I remembered.

Melons are a revelation. Quiet, confident, delicious. To those who dismiss them: I implore you to reconsider.