It was difficult having an entirely new state to explore and trying to be good, trying to stick to a deadline, so I knew that this exploration would have to wait. But summer stretches out before me, bringing with it soft serve ice cream cones, baskets full of cherries, and buttery lobster rolls. I can’t wait! Now, with the manuscript resubmitted, I am free– at least for a brief while, and then the second round of edit hits, like a summer electrical storm.

As you may have guessed, I haven’t been cooking much lately; but even a busy girl, with a slightly bare pantry, gets the itch to do some cooking. Or blending as it may be. Gazpacho is not my favorite, it always sounds utterly delicious to me, but in fact, leaves me empty. Brian concurs, saying it always tastes a bit like V-8, so why not just drink that instead? Generally, we lead a gazpacho-free life. But it has been hot here, and especially hot in our new air conditioner-less apartment (more on that, if you’re interested). But this recipe, torn out of a year old copy of Food and Wine magazine, and made with watermelon in addition to the standard tomatoes and cucumbers, sounded tempting.

Refreshing and crisp tasting–if a mostly liquid supper can even be called that–this gazpacho was the perfect antidote to those hot summer days. It’s beautiful, almost fuchsia in color with a vibrant jalapeno-scallion relish of sorts, bringing a pleasant heat to this cooling dish. The watermelon and the tomato play off of one another nicely, the melon offering a sweetness while the tomato, a tang. Chilled, it was an ideal meal to have, before putting my nose back to the grindstone, and then tumbling softly into bed.

Following is the complete recipe, which makes 12 appetizer servings. I however, made half of the recipe, and it turned out well. This gazpacho keeps for a few days in the refrigerator, making it perfect for a lazy summer chef. I served mine with a squeeze of lime and a side of fried plantains.

Watermelon Gazpacho
Food and Wine, August 2007

6 1/2 pounds tomatoes, cored
2 pounds seedless watermelon, peeled- 2 cups coarsely chopped, 2 cups diced
2 pounds cucumbers, peeled and seeded- 2 cups coarsely chopped, 2 cups diced
1/4 cup sherry vinegar (I used white wine vinegar, and a splash of balsamic, it was all I had and it worked well.)
3 tablespoons olive oil
salt and pepper
6 scallions, thinly sliced
2 jalapenos, seeded and minced
1/2 cup chopped cilantro
1/4 cup fresh lime juice

Bring a large pot of water to a boil to blanch the tomatoes, until skins are loosened, about 30 seconds. Peel the tomatoes and slice them in half cross-wise. Working over a coarse sieve set in a large bowl, squeeze the tomato halves, releasing the juice and seeds. Press on the seeds. You should have approximately 2 cups. Coarsely chop the tomatoes to make 4 cups. Dice the remaining tomatoes into 1/2-inch pieces.

In a food processor, puree the the coarsely chopped tomato, the reserved tomato juice, the 2 cups each of the coarsely chopped watermelon and the cucumber together. Transfer the soup into large bowl, stir in the reserved diced tomato, cucumber, and watermelon. Stir in the vinegar, and 1 tablespoon of the olive oil, and season with salt and pepper. Refrigerate until chilled, at least 1 hour.

In a small bowl, mix the scallion, jalapenos, cilantro, and lime juice. Season with salt and pepper. Ladle gazpacho into individual bowls, drizzle with remaining olive oil, and pass the lime relish to garnish.

A delicious stone fruit pie is divine; a clafoutis chock full of tree-ripe apricots; and a nectarine cobbler, the juices bubbling out from under the nubby crust, each are list-toppers for me. But sometimes turning on the oven, even for only an hour, its steaming surface puffing more hot air into my already warm apartment is too much to bear. So then I turn to another summertime favorite, melons of all sorts.

This melon salad has proven itself time and time again this season to be one of my favorites. Its salty-sweet combination is a delight, and the crunch of dry-roasted peanuts adds yet another crisp dimension. A mixture of Thai ingredients, this salad proves to be a refreshing snack, or a pleasing side dish to a lite meal.

The dressing is simple. The zest and juice of one lime, are combined with a lump of brown sugar, and the secret, salty ingredient– Thai fish sauce. Yes, that stinky stuff adds the perfect briny element to the mix. Chop up some refreshing mint, bash up a handful of salted peanuts, and garnish your melon pieces with this whole concoction. Serve and eat this right away, so the mint remains sprightly, and the peanuts still have their crunch. And most importantly, enjoy the summer, and all of the bounty it has to offer.

And so I have joined the ranks of those people, the one’s that talk ad nauseum about the weather, and to me, it is endlessly fascinating. We are mostly unpacked, a household’s worth of goods transplanted from California to New York. Newsprint packing has been scrubbed off pots and pans, baking sheets unearthed, knives carefully unwrapped, and what is the first thing that I “cook?” Watermelon salad, because it is so damn hot.

Now I did turn on the stove to make a sweet-tart balsamic reduction, but I am afraid dear readers that is where the cooking started and stopped. By simmering the balsamic vinegar on the stove, a deep, syrupy concoction is made, turning even the cheapest of condiments into a rich elixir that is meant to be savored. And that is it, some fresh, fragrant basil is torn into bite-sized pieces, cubes of crisp watermelon, a little salt to bring out the juice, a grinding of pepper, and there you have it.

The basil and watermelon are surprisingly similar, perfumey yet delicate, and the balsamic reduction mediates the salad with its pungency. It was perfect, light, summery, and crisp, just the remedy for this fragile, weather-weary transplant. Don’t get me wrong. I look forward to actually having seasons, but I will admit, it is going to take some getting used to. Maybe next summer, the heat won’t even affect me, and you may just be reading about some thick, hearty stew I have cooked in August… Somehow I doubt it.