If you have only ever tasted a cantaloupe from the grocery store I offer you my deepest condolences and if I could I would jet you to my house right this second so you could partake in a life changing cantaloupe experience.
I stopped at Walker Farm in Dummerston, VT on the way home from my wanderings today. For sixteen dollars and seven cents I brought home: four ears of picked-this-morning organic corn, eight beautiful carrots, six still dirty beets of varying colors, ten fuzzily perfect, ripe and ready-to-drip-juice-down-your-chin-or-be-turned-into-a-heavenly-pie organic peaches and one dirt still on it's bottom cantaloupe that I could smell from the backseat of the car all the way home.
I sliced it open, scooped out the seeds and began cutting it into pieces. I ate one piece and then another and then three pieces all at once--the flavor and sweetness almost too much to bear. The heady aroma and yielding texture of the fruit could not have been more perfect. After several more mouthfuls I realized two things in quick succession: 1) I could easily keep eating until I got sick so I'd better show some restraint and 2) that it would be impossible to duplicate or preserve this cantaloupe experience. Fleeting deliciousness. My arms were covered with goosebumps. The kind you get when you hear a song so poignant it makes you ache or gaze upon artwork that touches something deep in your heart. Goosebumps like that...from a freshly picked, locally raised cantaloupe.
Until today I had no idea that Food Induced Goosebumps existed.