Watermelon

Here, watermelon gives up its usual place at the table as a fruit and goes to work in a role usually occupied by its cousin, the cucumber. The melon is a lovely foil for the salty feta, tangy onion, and tart vinegar. It makes a refreshing and unusual salad for any summer brunch, luncheon, or dinner.

GINA You can’t celebrate the Fourth without watermelon. In Memphis, you’ll see trucks on the side of the road selling the ripest, juiciest, and sweetest watermelons in the country. And if you watch our show, y’all already know I loves me some watermelon. I can eat it every day in the summertime: it is so refreshing—but, more important, it’s a natural sweet, and you know we women are always trying to watch our figures. (I have watched mine walk right out the door and look back at me and say, “Bye, girl!” as it left.) I mention this so you know I do try to keep a lookout for those things that are just plain good for me. . . . So you take my favorite fruit and add in some fresh limeade (summertime in a glass), vodka, and mint simple syrup (OMG), and, baby, you can cross your legs and let ’em swing, because that’s a wrap!

I first tried this when Bill Smith, chef of the famed Crook’s Corner restaurant in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, made a similar salad for a magazine feature. I know what you’re probably thinking—strange combination, right? But let me tell you, it really works. As much as I trust Bill’s palate, even I was surprised by how well the mild-sweet melon and acid-sweet tomato went together. I have since made many variations using different kinds of melons, tomatoes, herbs, and cheese, but this one is my all-time favorite.

This refreshing summer salad—a play of sweet and salty flavors—was inspired by some friends of mine reminiscing about the food they ate on a trip to Israel, where the pairing of fresh melon and feta cheese is fairly common. I was never one to sprinkle salt on my watermelon, but somehow with the addition of cucumber and citrus dressing, the contrast is incredibly refreshing.

The fading sun, an ocean breeze, a pitcher of mojitos waiting in the fridge. Open the door, fill the ice bucket, and let the party begin. Invented in Cuba and beloved by many, the rum-based mojito is an inherently festive drink. Friend and colleague cocktail specialist David Alan has created this refreshing watermelon mojito and thoughtfully devised a shortcut to reduce the workload for even the most laid-back party throwers. Preparing the base drink ahead makes it easy to crank out drinks quickly. Adding the club soda at the last minute ensures that all drinks retain the proper level of fizz. So before you set out for the beach, muddle the mint leaves, lime juice, sweetener, and rum in a large pitcher. Stow it in the refrigerator along with several bottles of soda water and a bowl of peeled, seeded, and chunk-up watermelon. Leave a dozen or so eight-ounce Collins glasses on the kitchen counter and when you arrive home with your friends—dazzled and thirsty from a day in the sun—chilly, refreshing mojitos are just moments away.

My friend Yvonne makes this salad for her summertime pool parties when we crave something cool and light, which is often. She tosses it in a big bowl, we throw something on the grill, and everyone heads for her backyard pool. Sometimes we float in the pool all afternoon, climbing out of the water only when we need a watermelon break. It’s a great way to beat the Texas heat. Using the scooped-out watermelons as serving bowls means this dish performs double duty: satisfying your guests’ appetites and adding an eye-catching decorative touch. It’s easier than you think and your friends will marvel at your artistic flair.

Here, watermelon gives up its usual place at the table as a fruit and goes to work in a role usually occupied by its cousin, the cucumber. The melon is a lovely foil for the salty feta, tangy onion, and tart vinegar. It makes a refreshing and unusual salad for any summer brunch, luncheon, or dinner.

Make this in the summertime, when sweltering days coincide with watermelon season. It’s a beautiful and thirst-quenching drink that everyone loves, so make plenty. The watermelon adds a lot of beautiful pink color.

This sweet and tangy cold soup is one of Lucid Food’s signature dishes. For catered events, we often serve it in shot glasses as an hors d’oeuvre. A guest once suggested we top them off with vodka, and so a wonderful new take on the Bloody Mary was invented. You can make this recipe a day ahead and reseason it just before serving.

This drink is best in the summertime, when watermelons are at their sweetest and most flavorful. For cooling off and rehydrating on a hot day, there is simply nothing better. Because watermelons are huge, relatively inexpensive, and have a high water content, they make a good base for drinks. Experiment with using different varieties of tart and sweet apples.

Summer is unthinkable without watermelon. As children, my sister and I would stand for what seemed like hours on the back steps and eat and eat and eat chilled wedges of homegrown watermelon. The seed-spitting contests were fierce. As we were often barefoot and playing in the dirt, the watermelon juice served as an adhesive for a fine dusting of red Georgia clay. We would get so sticky and messy, we were barred from the house until we’d washed off with the hose. And, if we didn’t do a good job, Meme was more than happy to help. This watermelon salad is decidedly grown-up enough to eat indoors (barring any seed-spitting challenges). Spiking watermelon with vodka is an old trick, but the crème de cassis—a Burgundian liqueur made from black currants—elevates this to the extraordinary.

I wouldn’t dream of visiting the vast Central Market in Florence without my friend Judy Witts, known throughout town as the Divina Cucina. With Judy as my guide, butchers and cheese merchants greet us like given-up-for-lost family members, and everywhere we turn another oversized platter appears, heaped with Tuscan delights: sheep’s-milk pecorino, candied fruits spiced with mustard seeds, fresh raspberries dotted with syrupy balsamic vinegar, and, gulp, juicy tripe sandwiches (which I haven’t built up the courage to try). And because we’re in Italy, it all ends with shots of grappa taken straight from little glass vials, obbligatorio after all that sampling. This sorbetto is adapted from Judy’s recipe. One of her favorite parts is the little chocolate “seeds” it contains. Since watermelons have a lot of water, take the sorbetto out of the freezer long enough ahead of serving to make it scoopable, 5 to 10 minutes. To pass the time, serve shots of grappa, and if there’s any left by serving time, splash some over the sorbetto too.

I know you’re going to be tempted to use seedless watermelon here, but don’t. I’ve never tasted one that I particularly liked. And because I have a penchant for making things harder than they should be, I don’t mind plucking out the seeds. For some reason, the harder something is to make, the better it tastes. (And I wonder why I spend a majority of my life in the kitchen.) Don’t worry about using a fancy sake—inexpensive brands work really well in this recipe. And unless you read Japanese, you’re not likely to be able to ascertain the difference trying to read the labels at the store.

These incredibly refreshing paletas are quite easy to make. In Mexico, they typically include the watermelon seeds, which are blended along with the flesh, but feel free to use a seedless melon or remove the seeds if you prefer.

This particular sorbet is like really good Italian ice. It’s got an icier texture than some of the other sorbet recipes because it’s made from fruit that has a naturally high water content. It’s most appealing and quite refreshing on a hot summer day.

My freezer ended up with warning notes all over it after I made this granita. I put the liquid into a shallow pan in the freezer, and only a few minutes later I completely forgot it was in there. I opened the slide-out freezer drawer and was hit with a tidal wave of red. It wasn’t quite like the elevator door opening in The Shining, but it was pretty bad. I figured, “Okay, fool me once, shame on you.” I swabbed out the whole freezer, put the food back in, made another batch, put that in the freezer, and left the kitchen. A few minutes later my husband, Gregg, wandered into the kitchen. Pause. “Beccaaa!! “ Okay, fool me twice, shame on me. Once I cleaned off Gregg and the freezer (in that order), I made a third batch, and up went the warning notes. Success!

Requiring no cooking and no blending, this soup takes full advantage of the lush fruits of midsummer.

A perfect dessert soup to make in July, when melons are at their sweetest. This makes a refreshing finish to a grilled meal.

This is ideal to make when you’ve bought too much watermelon.

I don’t think there’s anything terribly exciting about grilled scallops—but I do think you can put them together with interesting ingredients and make them exciting. That’s why I pair scallops with—wait for it—watermelon! I know, who would think of putting scallops with watermelon, let alone three kinds (watermelon, watermelon rind pickles, and watermelon radishes)? It may seem wacky, but the sweetness of the watermelon offset by the bitterness of the dandelion and the sharp red onion makes this a spectacular combo. And, if you’re thinking ahead (like we always try to do!), make the pickles a day (or a week) in advance and keep them in the fridge. These pickles make anything taste tangy and delicious; I keep a jar on hand for whenever a salad or sammie needs an extra little pickle-y punch!