Having done a watermelon show in Edmonton last week, I find myself in the possession of more watermelons than I might otherwise have at one time to feed a family of 3. And, having not dropped them to save my pants from falling down last week, I feel particular pressure to do something with them, lest my humiliation be for nothing.
It turns out cubed watermelon makes a great addition to salads. Think about it – they are slightly sweet, crunchy, watery – a far better crouton for a hot summer day, don’t you think? This particular salad was built (as usual) on a mesclun mix, this time plucked cautiously (there aren’t many leaves there) from the pots on my patio; to it I added cubes of watermelon, a small handful of halved grapes, crumbled blue cheese (although feta or goat cheese would have been delicious too), and candied walnuts. For these particular candied walnuts, I toasted about a cup in a skillet (I like to make more than I need, to take me through several salads), then added 1/4 cup of sugar and a teaspoon of soy sauce (which adds flavour and salt), tossed it about until the sugar melted and coated the walnuts, then took them off the heat and allowed them to cool. That’s it. To dress: balsamic vinaigrette: canola oil, a drizzle of flax oil (1 tsp. has the same omega 3s as a filet of salmon), balsamic vinegar, a squirt of grainy mustard and a drizzle of maple syrup or honey – my standard. I shake it all up in one of those IKEA dressing bottles, and if I want it garlicky, squish a clove and stick it in without pressing it – it’s too big to come through the nozzle, so it infuses the dressing with garlic without contributing raw garlic chunks. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
(And speaking of watermelon salads – I think I told you last year about one that completely blew me away – just chunked watermelon and feta, drizzled with balsamic vinaigrette. If you had some fresh mint in your garden, that would be a nice addition too.)
And while I have your ear, I just have to share a few quotes from W in the past 24 hours:
Grabbing onto me at the park: “oooh Mom, you’re nice and squishy!” Super.
In the car: “Mom, what does meat say?” (Me: “Moo.”) W: “No… it says ‘hi, I’m delicious!’.”
Tonight, pre-bath: “Hey, how about you be the Terminator, and I’ll be the cupcakes rolling down the hill. Ready? Go!”
Honestly, I don’t remember improv day in drama class being this complex. What does one do when one is the Terminator upon encountering cupcakes rolling down a hill? (Apparently W has a very clear view of this scenario, and I was doing it entirely wrong.)