A Suyo named Perseverance
For fun, go back about 12,000 years to the southern part of what we call Asia and peek in at our predecessors preparing to eat. They (who are us) were beginning to settle into homesteading instead of hunting-gathering, so they were figuring out domestication of plant varieties they could grow near the hut so they didn’t have to wander all over the hillside looking for leaves and roots to eat.
There was a pernicious little vine with a fruit whose taste was so nasty and bitter, it was used to scare bugs away. The climate in the foothills of the Himalayas was ideal for this vine, so the recently settled locals, who had not yet learned about block parties, became determined to somehow domesticate the nastiness out of these plentiful little fruits. They mulched with bamboo leaves mixed with tiger dung and willow-imbued ginger water (maybe), but mostly they danced around and sang magic songs just like you and I do to chase away bitterness.
Our connection to cucumbers accompanied the trend of settling down as it rippled through the continent when the Ice Age waned. Northern India and southern China might be where cucumbers first got attention, but word spread and other cultures also took on the bitterness challenge.
It was written in an ancient Egyptian recipe that you should poke a hole down the center of the cucumber, insert a stick, seal the hole and bury the cucumber in dirt for a week. Upon resurrection: “The pulp converted to an agreeable liquid.” I wonder what trial and error led to such a plan.
I would never have thought of this strategy, but it speaks highly of our collective determination to make something out of something else plus defund the bitterness. It should be noted cucumbers still retain the bitterness trait which will manifest in fruit grown in sour, dry soil. They are heavy feeders and need plenty water like other athletes.
But back to the Himalayas after the Ice Age. From there throughout Asia, cucumbers gained favor, and since they cross-pollinate easily, local varieties of many colors and shapes emerged. Some varieties in Thailand and Myanmar still retain a bit of bitterness on purpose.
However, in the hills of northern China, Suyo cucumbers arrived on the scene. They are dark green, mildly spiny, an inch-and-a-half wide and up to 18 inches long. They are also especially sweet and never bitter and in good soil will be prolific.
If you are wondering how folks like us 10,000 years ago were able to develop such a delightful creation in their gardens – they danced around and sang magic songs just like we still do, plus somebody must have figured out selective breeding, or maybe it was luck.
Nevertheless. it’s cucumber season in my garden, and this is the reason I watered and cultivated and mulched during the July dry spell. I planted Suyo seeds in May, and by the time young sprouts were gaining mojo, dry arrived. I told them I’d provide the water to get them to the other side of the dry, and they not only held on but looked strong, whereas bean vines nearby looked like the heat made it too hard to concentrate.
The dry was over by the end of the month, and the Suyo vines flourished in the mid-summer rains. “About time!” reverberated around the garden, “and thanks.” By the time I returned from a two-week absence, the Suyo vines had reached the top of the trellis, leaves were thick and healthy, and hiding inside the leaf cover was a 14-inch Suyo. I named it Perseverance.
It was totally straight although a few younger, smaller ones nearby are curly. They will also get as long as the first one, and there are more on the way just like in northern China. The count has begun for how many days in a row I’ll eat cucumber slices.
And I’m wondering what cucumbers might become in the next 10,000 years. Save your seeds.