Watermelon Wars

In times past, a certain class of English men would compete against each other to report to The Times their hearing of the first cuckoo of spring.

This quaint tradition, has like so many English cultural icons, now vanished. But it in my part of England at least, it has been replaced by a new way to mark the ending of winter: Watermelon Wars.

I am fortunate enough to live on easily the most food rich street in the UK. At 7.5 miles long, Green Lanes in north London is the capital's longest road and food shops abound along it's entire route But it is the three mile section I live along that is the battle ground for this annual food fight.

Like the cuckoo spotters of old, every spring, each of the twenty five or so independently run food shops that nestle between two big supermarkets and around a dozen or so specialist delicatessens on this stretch, fall over each other to get the first season's watermelons on display. The idea is to get them on show not too early in February, but as near to the beginning of March as possible.

Those who get them on sale before their rivals can charge a premium price for a slice of these juicy delicacies. The first independent shop on my road is run by two guys nicknamed 'Le Miserable's', due to their permanent expressions being more indicative of sucking on lemons rather than melons. But this year they must have laughed all the way to the bank after managing to extract £1.79 a kilo out of 'early adopters' of this year's crop.

One cannot blame them for making hay while the sun shines. For it will not be too long before every outlet will be selling them, prompting the law of supply and demand to kick in. This can be seen by noting that we've not yet hit June and the price of watermelons has dropped to 79p a kilo.

However, as summer progresses the locals will begin to view watermelons with the same disdain Christmas revelers display for their three day old turkey carcass. Thus, by early September, if you can find one fresh enough (rumour has it they all come over at the start of the season from the same farm), the asking price will be around 49p a kilo.

When the nights start drawing in, watermelons will begin to fade from view. Should anyone still have a desire for them, they can satisfy that need at the two big supermarkets, who will happily sell you one of their their plastic wrapped slices that work out to £12.00 a kilo.

Personally I would prefer to crawl my way through the dark days of winter, knowing that, despite everything, I will make it to the other side. And the indication that I have done so, won't be light at the end of a tunnel. No, it will be when the annual battle that is Watermelon Wars resumes once more.