Getting to Know Virginia’s Cantaloupes
Memories of a sweet summer job
Virginia loves melons. They grow wonderfully in our climate, and they make the perfect sweet addition to every picnic table. However, there is one melon that has brought Virginia some attention: the cantaloupe, a deceptive fruit with a blandly colored, rough netted rind and soft, juicy center.
There is a hidden beauty in these modest melons. They aren’t printed on tablecloths and sundresses or painted into Norman Rockwell’s idyllic picnic scenes. However, I would argue that they should be. After all, despite the cantaloupe’s quiet, non-ostentatious reputation, it is the most popular melon in America, consistently outselling the pompous watermelon.
But despite loving and growing up around cantaloupes, I can honestly say I didn’t fully appreciate them either until I spent a summer years ago deep in cantaloupe juice. That kind of intimacy with a melon? Well, let’s just say it changes things.
If you are traveling north on Route 43 in Bedford County towards the Peaks of Otter, you will spot a quaint little store resting in mountain shadows and encircled by crouching peach trees. The single ancient gas pump still works, and inside you’ll find the best pie in the Blue Ridge, among other wonderful treats.
At Mountain Fruit and Produce, where I worked that summer, we got cantaloupes by the box load. By the shopping cart load. By the truck load. And we sold it, too, hand over fist.
Restocking dry goods on the shelves involved battling the crates of cantaloupes that were left in the aisle for lack of better floorspace. We sold them whole, we sold them in slices, in ice-cream form, and in juice form.
People would wander up the mountain specifically in search of a good cantaloupe. They would tap their fingers against the rind, sniff the bottom where the vine was once connected, give it a good shake and inquire as to where each cantaloupe was grown until they settled on the perfect one—the cantaloupe of their dreams. Over the course of that one summer we probably sold a thousand cantaloupes. Suddenly, a large portion of my hourly wages was thanks to this one particular fruit.
That summer I sliced, diced, peeled, pulverized and blended hundreds of pounds of cantaloupe. I would arrive at the store in the morning and be ushered to a shopping cart straining under the weight of our most recent shipment. It was delivered to us from the orchards in beat up flatbed trucks loaded down with farm hands.
I learned even more tips and tricks on spotting the perfect cantaloupe: one that is nearly round, weighs about three pounds, gives just a little when you squeeze it, and makes a nice hollow knocking sound when tapped.
Unlike the watermelon, the cantaloupe is easy to work with. A sharp blade slices through the rind with little effort and the center of the fruit is so soft that if the knife wielder is not careful, he may lose control of the tool and cut himself, caught unaware when the blade falls rapidly through the meat. (Trust me.) Once halved, the delicious sun-colored fruit clings closely to the thin rind where a ring of light green brings the two together. The fruit is light, soft and sweet.
At the center of each half is a hollow cavity where around 400 little seeds are stored in a runny liquid, best removed by a metal stirring spoon. But as I learned at Mountain Fruit and Produce, you must be careful to not scrape away too much of the fruit. In the cantaloupe ice-cream business, every bit counts.
Long before becoming a beloved summer farmers market find, the cantaloupe wasn’t even grown in the U.S. It originated in Iran, India and Africa, around 5,000 years ago, where it grew naturally and was a staple food for the natives of each region. Europe’s first encounter with the cantaloupe, however, is quite an interesting tale.
There is much debate surrounding the truth of this story, but it is worth being told. Thirty miles north of Rome, there was a small papal village by the name of Cantalupo di Sabina. In this village rested the country estate of Pope Paul II, a very large, very demanding Pope who held his office from 1464 to 1471. During this time, an envoy of Armenians arrived from the East bearing gifts of melons, namely, the cantaloupe. Pope Paul had one taste and was mystified. He became obsessed with the cantaloupe, devoting garden space to the wandering vine and demanding that they be grown and harvested in the best possible conditions, ensuring the best possible outcome.
Paul was a pious man. (Maybe. It’s debatable.) But his desire for the melon was insatiable, and in July of 1471, at the age of 54, Pope Paul II suffered a heart attack and died. What brought on this heart attack? He suffered severe indigestion brought on after gorging himself on multiple cantaloupes hours before his death. Or so the story goes.
Fast forward several years and Christopher Columbus brought the cantaloupe with him on his maiden voyage to the New World in 1492. The fruit grew wonderfully in America’s fertile, loamy soil and thus the cantaloupe turned a new leaf, feeding settlers, natives, colonists and revolutionaries, to eventually find a soft landing place in every grocery store across the U.S.
Virginia has particularly loved and embraced the cantaloupe. In fact, in pre-pandemic years, we had a thriving festival dedicated to it. The Virginia Cantaloupe Festival began in 1981 in Halifax County, where it is suggested that the best of the best cantaloupes are grown. In past years, the festival limited ticket sales to “only 1,500” and they would always sell out.
With all of this information in mind, I hope the next time you discover that pale orange cube in your fruit cup you won’t dismiss it entirely. The cantaloupe is not meant to be plucked before its prime, crammed into a plastic cup alongside other, less worthy fruits and refrigerated for weeks on end. It is meant to be enjoyed fresh, in its boldest colors. Or better yet, as a dessert.
To this day, enjoying a spoonful of freshly made cantaloupe ice cream at Mountain Fruit and Produce brings back memories of that summer where I learned to respect this misunderstood melon.
How to Choose a Cantaloupe

Color—The outside should be a uniform pale, creamy yellow, with no green or white.
Webbing—The web-like texture covering the melon should be consistently rough ridges all the way around.
Stem—A ripe cantaloupe will fall on its own from the vine. The point where the stem was attached should be a little indented. If it is poking or bulging out, it could mean the farmer cut the melon too early.
Scent—The stronger the smell at the stem, the riper the melon.
Feel—Give it a good squeeze. If it’s hard, it’s not ripe. It should give a little in your hands. If it’s squishy, it’s overripe. That doesn’t mean it’s a goner! These are great for juicing.
Sound—Finally, give it a little knock. You should hear a low, solid thunk. A high-pitched sound could mean unripe.
But what does “clean” really mean? Should this word drive a decision to purchase one product over another? We asked Karrye Flowers, founder and lead formulator for Oshun Organics, LLC in the Lynchburg Community Market, to help sort out the vocabulary.
“So many of our former customers were basically begging us to get back into it,” said Gary III, who is currently using his business administration degree at two businesses: the garden center and Baughman and Associates Insurance.
Lawn care products include premium grass seeds, mulches, and fertilizers by the bag. Additionally, they carry flower pots, small hand tools, animal repellants, and a basic lineup of chemical insecticides, fungicides, and miticides. The center carries a variety of hollies, nandinas, monkey grass, leyland cypress, and hydrangea. Items are sold by the pot size and start at $24.99.
While Gary’s Garden Center operates through November and December, selling seasonal goods such as pumpkins, Christmas trees, and pansies, the center is closed January and February.
When Oliver Russell left his family’s third-generation shipyard behind in early 2020 to move to Lynchburg, he knew parting with the life he knew along the Carolina coast would be tough.
Oliver networked with some of the fisherman he knew near his hometown and made the drive down to pick up his first load. That first weekend, Oliver sold everything he had brought back: 100 pounds of shrimp and 20 pounds of tuna. He sold out the next weekend, too.
From the Dock to the Dinner Table
Seafood Stereotypes
According to Oliver, our current season (July/August) is the peak time for pretty much everything in the world of seafood—from tuna to mahi to Spanish Mackerel.





Fresh Catch Summer Salad with Strawberries
Cast Iron Seafood Pasta
There’s something about a stroll through your local farmers market that turns grocery shopping from a rushed task into a meaningful experience—the simple wooden tables, rows of fresh products, and smiling faces of local makers and producers form a gathering spot that has been a mainstay in our area for generations, serving to not only nourish our bodies but also nurture a sense of community.
Dorothy McIntyre, market manager at the Forest Farmer’s Market, said she is seeing more vendors using the market as an avenue to showcase their creativities and as a way to introduce themselves into the community.
“You have the mom and pops that are coming in that are trying to create and bring something new and valuable to the area, but then you get these people that are relocating and are finding the farmers market and they feel like this is a good atmosphere to try out to see if this is something that would be interesting to the area,” she said.
“They’re asking questions about the food and how it’s been grown and where it’s been grown. Things like that are still happening,” she said. “It’s still very active in that people want to know where their food is coming from. I’ve been approached more this season by more African American or Haitian American potential vendors that have phenomenal products and are starting to see the market as not just the white person’s market.”
She said there are constantly new people coming in and experiencing local markets, whether it’s Lynchburg, Bedford or Forest, and they’re enjoying the atmosphere, the community and are supporting local businesses.
Farmers markets also saw a big win from Virginia’s General Assembly this year when it deemed markets as essential in the event of a crisis, similar to how a grocery store is treated.
The market also recently just brought music back which is held every Saturday through the end of October.
“We’ve got people from all over downtown that come and hang out at Ms. Barbs or they get something from the bakery,” he said. “Being open during the week is great. There’s not a whole lot of public markets around the country that are open five days a week. We were open during an ice storm a few months ago and the bakery had donuts ready to go. I think that just speaks a lot about Lynchburg as a whole.”
Erika McFadden, market manager for the Bedford Farmers Market, which is held each Friday and second Saturday, said she was pleasantly surprised with the turnout from patrons over the last year during the pandemic.
“We’ll have a really good turnout throughout the summer and it’s been nice to see more people want to come out and I think that’s what we’re seeing with the post-COVID vaccines as people are feeling a little bit safer,” she said. “More vendors feel like they can come out to the market so I’ve had a lot of phone calls from local producers and artisans.”
She said what makes Bedford so special is its family-friendly atmosphere where everyone can feel welcome.
On a sunny Saturday in May, Shelley and the kids met up with photographer Ashlee Glen at the Lynchburg Community Market. Brick Goldman, owner of Goldman Farm in Cullen, was such a good sport when asked to be a part of an “action shot.”