It’s hot. I was in France last week and it was hot. I came back to Chicago, and it was hot. So damn hot. In this kind of weather I don’t have much of an appetite, not that it slowed me down much in France (copious amounts of cold rosé certainly helped) but back home, my dinners have been a bit lackluster. Truth be told, I decided the other day I wasn’t going to eat much else besides fresh sweet corn and cold watermelon for rest of the month.
Its hard not to notice the proliferation of watermelon salads on just about every restaurant menu these days. What was innovative and interesting five or six years ago, is pretty much commonplace at this point. And not very thoughtful. I had my first one maybe eight years ago at a chef friend’s restaurant and loved the sweet-salty combo though he no longer has a melon salad on any of his menus because you can find them everywhere and generally, they’re not very good. The restaurant watermelon salad has jumped the shark, as they say. I’d rather make them at home.
For the last several years I’ve been leaning toward something my Aunt Patti made once, a zillion years ago that we gave her a lot of flack for. She dug up a recipe somewhere that consisted of watermelon, Tabasco and red onion. She was a bit of perfectionist and had expertly melon balled an entire watermelon into a large bowl. Then, for the next hour or so, she carefully put one – just one! – drop of Tabasco on every single one of those melon balls and stirred in some diced red onion. She just didn’t feel that the teaspoon of Tabasco (or whatever the recipe called for) would evenly distribute across the watermelon in the bowl and felt her method was better. She had a point, though we heckled her endlessly that afternoon and long after. When it came time to dig in, it was delicious. The combination of sweet and spicy was just perfect. Patti felt vindicated. She also made something that day called “crabzini” (which apparently is really a thing) and the two dishes have gone down as family legend. Word of advice: watermelon + Tabasco, yes. Crab + zucchini, no.
Since that time, I’ve taken that idea and done several different riffs, though none involved quite the level of handiwork as Aunt Patti’s version. Sometimes I’ll add a salty cheese, or maybe briny black olives. Sometimes a handful of bright herbs, a pile of arugula or something else green like cucumbers. When I’m lazy, I’ll give the melon a squeeze of lime juice and a good dose of a spicy powder like Tajín or my new favorite, Pico Fruta from Penzey’s.
But lately I’ve been making what I think is the best version yet – watermelon and crunchy bits of jicama, that oddly refreshing vegetable that tastes like some sort of cross between a potato and an apple. Some diced red onion, a bit of Serrano chile for heat and a fat handful of mint for brightness. Then the mixture is tossed with a dressing somewhat reminiscent of a Vietnamese nuoc cham – fresh lime juice, a little honey and the kicker, a bit of fish sauce for that bright, lip smacking flavor that makes you sit up and take notice. It is a fantastic combination that offsets the crisp sweetness of the watermelon perfectly. Give it a shot.
STRESS THERAPY BAKING FACTOR: NOT TOO HOT TO NOTICE. Hot summer food has some distinct criteria. Most importantly, it has to be easy to throw together. This is not the time for involved, complicated recipes as our brains can’t take much on right now. It has to be bright and refreshing and light. Bright punchy flavors are what we crave. Cold food is good too. Now is not the time to turn on the oven (though I have been known to do stupid things like this before). This recipe hits all the right buttons. Sometimes I eat it by itself and call it dinner; other times I might have it alongside a good tomato sandwich or a BLT. Whatever strikes my fancy. And most of the times I just sort of whip it together. This post is the first time I’ve ever really measured everything. The key takeaway here: don’t sweat it. Literally.
Nine years ago: Peanut Butter Whoopie Pies, Tart Tips, Tart Dough, Sour Cherry Sorbet, Wild Blackberry Jam, Chanterelles & Fresh Pasta, Chocolate Peanut Rice Krispie Treats
Eight years ago: Big American Flag Cake, Sour Cherry Cobbler, Betty’s Pies exploring Minnesota
Seven years ago: Sweet & Spicy Beer Mustard, Life in Southwest France
Six years ago: Strawberry Hibiscus Popsicles, Spanish Sunday Lunch, Patatas Aioli, Bastille Day Bomb Pops, Sour Cherry Slab Pie, Sleeping It Off in Gascony
Five years ago: BBQ Baked Beans, Hush Puppies, Tin Roof Sundae, Watermelon Aqua Fresca, Rhubarb Beer Jam, Spicy Pineapple Paletas, Hungarian Cherry Soup, Prosciutto Stuffed Figs
Four years ago: Guinness Crème Anglaise
Three years ago: Radish Butter, Slow Roasted Spiced Pineapple, Blender Gazpacho, Carrot Green & Parmesan Bites
Two years ago: Zucchini Ricotta Galettes, Pão de Queijo – Brazilian Cheese Bread, Pineapple with Lemongrass & Lime Leaf Syrup, Thai Grilled Coconut Rice & Banana, Beef Bulgogi & Rice Cake Skewers, Blueberries & Cream Popsicles, Roasted Cherry Vanilla Frozen Yogurt, Chicken Shawarma Pocket Sandwich, Orange Julius with Strawberry and Pineapple variations), Pina Colada Sherbet, Sedano e Pomodori (Braised Celery and Tomato)
Last year: A Grand Aioli, Salmon Rilettes
WATERMELON JICAMA SALAD
A seedless watermelon works best but use what’s around – just make sure it’s a really sweet one. You can cut the melon and jicama into any size you like though I prefer thin rectangles to better capture the dressing.
Serves 4 as a side dish
1 pound seedless watermelon, rind removed, cut into 1 ¼” x ¾” x ¼” tiles
¼ pound jicama, peeled cut into ¾” x ¾” x ¼” tiles
1 teaspoon serrano chile, seeded finely diced (or more to taste)
3 Tablespoons finely diced red onion
2 Tablespoons chopped mint
3 Tablespoons fresh lime juice
2 teaspoons honey
½ tsp fish sauce
- Add the watermelon, jicama, serrano, red onion and mint to a bowl and toss gently to combine.
- In a separate small bowl, whisk together the lime juice, honey and fish sauce.
- Add the dressing to the melon mixture and gently toss to coat.
- The salad can be enjoyed immediately but is better if left in the refrigerator for an hour or two to chill and let the flavors meld.
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