Have you ever met a Cucamelon?

A few weeks ago, I wandered the stalls of the last local farmer’s market of the season. Bundled up against the early Chicago winter, I felt lucky to find my favorite Mutsu apples. While I was paying, I spied a small carton of these cute little guys.

The farmer explained that they were Cucamelons. I’ve since learned they are also called mouse melons, Mexican sour gherkins, Mexican miniature watermelons, Mexican sour cucumber and Pepquinos, though the official classification is Melothria scabra.

A large handful of Cucamelons was selling for $5 and I had only $4 of cash left. The farmer held them toward me, teeth chattering from the cold, and said “we take credit cards.” And so, I bought my first cucamelons.

There is really nothing watermelon-like about these little fruits other than the color and pattern of the exterior. Inside, they are much more like a cucumber. The flavor was a bit stronger and more sour, as some of the names suggest, and the flesh was crunchier. The entire fruit is edible, you just pop them in your mouth.

Truthfully, I wanted to like cucamelons more than I did. I was happy with the flavor and especially the crunch, but I didn’t love them. My two kids didn’t like them at all. My enthusiasm for the new discovery was palpable, and I noticed that they were trying to smile while they chewed. But, nostrils flared, mouths began to turn down, eyes scanned for the trash, and the pickier eater spit it out. She doesn’t like cucumbers, so that should have been expected.

Cucamelons would be a fun thing to grow in a home garden. They probably produce a lot of fruit that kids would enjoy harvesting. Next summer, if I come across them again, I’ll buy a box of cucamelons to skewer and garnish a few crisp, cold cucumber martinis.

Photography note: Those beautiful hands are my officemate, Juliana, who also took the photos. We ooed and ahhed over the cucamelons at work and even tried pickling them. You can see more of her hands and her photos on instagram here.