Cold soup for a hot day … Chilled Cavaillion Melon Soup

At the risk of sounding completely and utterly pretentious, my first encounter with the fantastic melons the French call Charentais, was … well, in France.  Aix-en-Provence in the south to be precise.  I had wandered into the local market and put together an impromptu picnic, absolutely dizzy with the beauty of everything.  On a whim, I picked up a small light green melon though I wasn’t too sure exactly how we were going to eat it.  It was about the size of a grapefruit and wasn’t something I’d seen before.  All the more reason to try it, right?

The boyfriend/traveling companion and I found a nearby park and plopped down in the sun, spreading our purchases about.  I stared at the melon – it was an all or nothing proposition.  The boyfriend was rather crabby about it but like the decorated girl scout that I am, out came the swiss army knife and I sunk it into the creamy green skin.  The melon nearly burst at the release of pressure and out escaped the most intense aroma.  We just stared at each other dumb founded.  What the hell?  With great excitement and anticipation, I whacked it into pieces.

can’t you just smell it?

The flesh was a deep intense orange and the first bite made us speechless.  We just stared at each other, melon juice dripping off our chins and started to giggle uncontrollably.  The flavor was unlike anything I’ve ever encountered.  For once, something actually tasted like it smelled – sweet, honey-like, deep and intense.  Whereas a really ripe cantaloupe can taste sweet but watery, this had none of that – just serious heavy goodness. We grabbed another piece.  And another.  Before we had touched anything else, half the melon was gone.  This wouldn’t be a problem at all.

Then I came back to Chicago with nothing but fond memories and a snooty attitude.  It’s not like The Jewel stocks fancy french melons.  I figured I’d have to go back to France to find this again and I wasn’t even sure what it was called.  Wonderful.  Enter the farmers market – the Green City Market and Seedling farm to be exact.  A few years ago, I was wandering the market … and there it was.  My melon!  I motioned the farmer, my friend Pete, over excitedly.

“Hey Pete!  What are these?!?”  (doing a happy happy jig.  Such a spectacle.)

“Oh those are the french cantaloupes – charentais – I’m experimenting with.  Chefs love them.” (rather blaise about it all. And not doing a happy happy jig with me.)

Oh holy crap.  Spying only a few, I snapped one up and raced home.  If I could have, I would have eaten it in the car.  Where’s that swiss army knife when you really need it?  Upon the first bite, I was instantly transported back to that sunny afternoon in the grass, giggling.  Don’t you just love food memories?

Fast forward to last week.  The melons are late this year.  This crappy weather has thrown just about everything off schedule.  Since I’ve been working for Pete this summer, I’ve had first crack at the inventory; a rather nice job perk.  But those melons didn’t show up for the first time until last week and in low numbers – he had exactly two.  And one had my name all over it.

On my way home, I picked up some prosciutto and ate ¼ of the melon for lunch.  Prosciutto and melon – the most classic combo possible.  Delicious, and don’t get me wrong, but perhaps there was another way.  What else could I make that would do this beauty justice?

As you may recall, I’ve made a pact with myself to work my way through – or back through – my cookbook library, cooking a few recipes out of each book, revisit old favorites and dig into some new ones.  The first out of the gate was a recent purchase – Café Boulud Cookbook- French American Recipes for the Home Cook by Daniel Boulud & Dorie Greenspan.  Yes, that of the inscription fame.

There it was … Soupe Glacee of Cavaillon Melon.  A chilled melon soup made with one of my very favorite fruits.  It was destiny.

A quick word on these schmancy melons.  My melon was a charentais, the savor varietal to be exact.  When I googled “cavaillon melon”, I discovered that this is another variety of the charentais from the town of Cavaillon in the south of France.  It’s all rather confusing so if anyone knows different, drop me a line.  What I do know is that they are hard to grow and difficult to find so if you see any, snap ‘em up.  What I also learned is that the town of Cavaillon has a melon festival every summer.  Who’s in?

This is one of those seemingly futzy fancy restaurant recipes – lots of pieces parts – but it’s really not all that difficult and the flavor is incredible.  It’s pretty stinkin’ easy actually.  The melon is pureed and then reduced over medium heat to concentrate the intense flavor.  In a separate pot, heavy cream is infused with Asian flavors – lemongrass, ginger, kaffir lime, warm spices like cinnamon, coriander, pepper, star anise.  Mixed with the melon puree … oh my goodness.

So that’s the easy part.  Where this recipe is sure to impress is with the fancy garnish.  Little diced bits of this and that – teeny melon pieces, lemongrass, lime zest, kaffir, purple basil – are mixed and piled into the bottom of a soup bowl.  Then you pour this lovely creamy orange elixir around the garnish.  Oh sweet mary mother and joseph is this good.  So very good.  I made ½ the recipe and ate the whole thing myself in one sitting.  Whoops.

I did, however, have a couple questions with the recipe.  There are no measurements listed for the melons so this can get a little confusing.  How much puree does 4 cavaillion/charentais melons yield?  When you reduce it down, how much should you have?  Hmmmmm.  So here’s what I suggest you do.  Add the cooked puree to the infused cream mixture in increments and taste as you go until you like the combination.  I made a 1/2 recipe and had 1 cup cooked puree + 1/3 cup infused cream and it was lovely.  Another thing- kaffir lime can be challenging to find.  Look in Asian markets, particularly those that stock Thai ingredients.  My local Whole Foods usually has them but only on the weekends when customers are more likely to purchase.  If you can’t find them, don’t worry about it.  Your soup will be delicious.

One important thing to keep in mind – this is only going to be as good as the melon.  If you can’t find fancy french melons, use really ripe cantaloupes.  Just make sure they’re heavy with, as Chef Boulud writes, “a fragrance strong enough to set your head spinning when you sniff it.”  Now there’s an image for you.

STRESS BAKING THERAPY FACTOR:  HIGH. Anytime I do a “jig of joy”, I consider that worthy of a high rating.  Plus this soup brought back fond memories of my first encounter with these beauties.  At the very least, all that precise dicing for the garnish is mesmerizing.

SOUPE GLACEE OF CAVAILLON MELON
From the Cafe Boulud Cookbook- French-American Recipes for the Home Cook by Daniel Boulud
Serves 4

the melon:
4 ripe cavaillon/charentais melons (or 2 large very ripe cantaloupes) peeled, halved and seeded

1. Cut enough of the melon into ¼” dice to make ½ cup and set aside, covered, in the refrigerator (for the garnish.)
2. Cut the rest of the melon into small chunks and puree in a blender.
3. Reserve ¼ cup of the puree, cover and refrigerate until needed.
4. Pour the remaining puree into a small saucepan and cook over medium heat until it reduces just a little bit, about 10 minutes.
5. Strain the puree into a bowl then set into an ice bath to chill.  (The puree will keep refrigerated, covered, for up to 4 hours.)

the soup base:
1 stalk lemongrass
1 whole star anise
1 cinnamon stick
10 whole fennel seeds
½ teaspoon whole coriander seeds
8 black peppercorns
1 ½ cups heavy cream
1 small kaffir lime leaf
grated zest of 1 lime, divided
juice of 1 lime, divided
three ¼” thick pieces of fresh ginger
1 sprig basil, opal basil if available
salt & white pepper
3 drops Tabasco sauce

1. Discard the outer tough part of the lemongrass stalk and trim it to about 5” long.
2. Cut the white bulb away from the green stalk (you’ll use the tender bulb for the garnish and the stalk for the infusion.)
3. Peel away the tough outer leaf from the bulb and finely chop enough of the tender heart to make 1 Tablespoon.  Put in a small bowl, cover, refrigerate (reserve for the garnish.)
4. Take the green stalk and bruise it with the heel of a chef’s knife or a meat mallet.  Set aside.
5. In a medium saucepan, toast the star anise, cinnamon stick, fennel seeds, coriander seeds and peppercorns over medium heat until fragrant – about 3-4 minutes.
6. Add the cream, kaffir lime leaf, half the lime zest, ginger, basil and the reserved bruised lemongrass stalk.
7. Bring to a boil, lower the heat and simmer for 5 minutes to reduce.
8. Season with a pinch of salt and white pepper and simmer for an additional 5 minutes.  It will reduce by roughly half.
9. Strain the soup base into a bowl set over an ice bath and cool.
10. When the base is well chilled, stir in both the reserved ¼ cup uncooked melon puree, the cooled cooked puree, the Tabasco and half the lime juice.
11. Taste for seasoning and add more salt and pepper if desired.
12. Strain the soup again and keep refrigerated until needed.

the garnish:
¼ cup reserved diced melon
1 Tablespoon reserved minced lemongrass
1 sprig basil, finely chopped (opal/purple basil if available)
2 sprigs basil, leaves only left whole (opal/purple basil if available)
2 sprigs cilantro, leaves only left whole
1 small kaffir lime leaf, finely chopped

1. In a small bowl, combine the diced melon, minced lemongrass, lime juice, lime zest, chopped basil, chopped kaffir lime leaf and a little salt and pepper.

To serve:

1. For each of the 4 servings, spoon ¼ of the diced melon mixture into the center of a chilled small soup bowl and top with a few whole basil and cilantro leaves.
2. Pour the well chilled soup around the garnish and serve immediately while everything is very cold.