Melon

Because no two batches of fruit have the same sweetness, it’s important to adjust the mix before freezing. This will affect more than flavor because sugar lowers the freezing point of water; so the sweeter your mix, the slushier your sorbet. Too little sugar and the sorbet will be icy hard. Some chefs use a saccharometer (which gauges a liquid’s density by how much of the instrument floats above the surface), but a large uncooked egg stands in quite well (see step 4). Watermelon is one of the simplest flavors to make, since it requires no added water. Follow the amounts in the chart on page 485 to make the suggested flavor variations. When using only juice, you can skip the first step. Citrus fruit can be squeezed by hand. For the kiwi and pineapple sorbets, you will need to add fresh lime or lemon juice along with water in the first step. All liquids should be strained into a deep bowl or plastic container as directed. If desired, add up to 3 tablespoons of other flavorings such as liqueur before adding the simple syrup.

If you prefer to serve alcohol-free cocktails, omit the tequila—the drink is still delicious.

Chanterais melons, also called Cavaillon, are a delicious alternative to cantaloupes. Look for them at farmers’ markets and gourmet stores.

Seltzer enlivens this effervescent drink, which consists of sweet honeydew melon puree and mouth-puckering lime juice.

Look for the ripest melon you can find; it should have a sweet fragrance and a firm exterior that yields slightly at the stem end. Granita can be stored in an airtight container in the freezer for up to 2 weeks. We like to serve the granita over wedges of cantaloupe for added melon flavor.

The steeping liquid needs to chill for at least 4 hours, so plan accordingly.

Easy to prepare, this vibrant pink fruit salad can be served on its own or spooned over a scoop of vanilla ice cream or your favorite sorbet.

Ricotta salata is a firmer version of fresh ricotta; it is perfect for shaving over salads.

A summery salsa tops these simply prepared trout fillets. If trout isn’t available, serve the salsa with any other sautéed or grilled fish or with shrimp.

A combination of mango, cantaloupe, and banana creates a taste of paradise with just the swirling of the blender.

Attractive, fragrant, and so tasty, these kebabs are a great way to fit more servings of fruit into your diet.

You will need to make this colorful dessert at least 8 hours in advance. If you want to stretch it to serve 12, spoon a half-cup of fat-free vanilla frozen yogurt into each bowl and top each serving with a half-cup of Spiced Fruit.

On the curve of Palermo’s Via Papireto, just before the entrance to il mercato delle pulci—the flea market—there sits a watermelon stand and a hand-wrought sign: ICED, SWEET WATERMELON, DAY AND NIGHT. We passed the little place several times each day on our excursions through the great honkings and snarlings of the city traffic. Drawn by its promise, we meant always to stop but never found quite the right convergence of appetite, time, and space in which to park the car. But one Saturday evening, after a long, winy dinner and a dry search for a still-open gelateria, we thought to soothe ourselves with a visit to the watermelon man. Though it was well after midnight, he was there, waiting midst the walls of precisely laid, smooth-skinned fruit, his old Arab eyes illuminated by festoons of pink and green lights. He bid us sit at his one and only tiny, oilcloth-covered table, tucked in the corner farthest from the street. Speaking only in smiles—it was hardly necessary to tell him what we desired—we watched as he chose a melon from those he kept in a basin of iced water and then cleaved it open with a single heft of some ancient tool. Each half he stuck with fork and spoon and, resting the juice-dripping melons on wooden boards, he presented them. He brought a little tin plate in which we might deposit the seeds and two beautifully ironed kitchen-towel napkins. The red flesh was crisp under our spoons and each new excavation brought up a yet sweeter, colder mouthful of it. We ate slowly under the pink and green lights, finally resting our spoons against the great, hollowed shells, triumphant, certain we’d spent well that hour of our lives, certain, too, how perfect, how divine was that food. Lacking a faithful watermelon man, here follows a way to work with a well-ripened, even if not exquisitely fleshed, melon. Perfumed with cinnamon and studded with bitter chocolate and pistachios, it is the traditional ice of ferragosto—the official high summer Italian festival. The gelo is best eaten long after midnight.

Should there be, one day in your life, both a handful of still-warm-from-the-tree ripe figs and the juice-dripping flesh of a melon, go quickly to find leaves of mint, some good green olive oil, and the juice of a lemon to make this little salad. Use only flawless components and arrange them for someone wonderful with whom to rhapsodize over it. You might, then, need heady, appropriate conversation. You could choose to speak of Platina—one Bartolomeo Sacchi—the Vatican librarian and author, in 1475, of Platine de Honestate Voluptate. The work’s argument concerns the history of Roman cuisine and was the first officially published cookbook since those written during the Republic. Or you might want to chatter a bit about Cantalupo in Sabina—the Singing Wolf of the Sabines—once a papal garden property outside the Roman walls where a strain of tiny, orange-fleshed melons were cultivated, they, no doubt, being the precursors to those we call cantaloupe. Perhaps you might choose not to speak at all, thus distracting nothing from the sweet little figs.