38. Watermelon, Tomato, and Feta Salad (p. 145)

What's with Gourmet's obsession for putting watermelon in places it doesn't belong? Before starting The Project, the most exotic thing I'd ever done with a watermelon was to make watermelon sorbet from Alice Waters's cookbook. That, and playing the greased watermelon game at Boy Scout camp when I was a kid ... but that's another story. So far this summer, however, I've already made Watermelon Gazpacho and Watermelon Rind Chutney. Now, I've made this strange recipe for a savory salad featuring watermelon. And I'll be darned if it wasn't half bad.

The recipe is simple enough: just combine diced watermelon, diced tomatoes, crumbled feta and chopped cilantro, along with some oil, vinegar, salt and pepper. I cut the recipe in half since it's just me and my wife, and after the Watermelon Gazpacho incident, I didn't have high hopes for leftovers. Turns out, I was wrong, and the salad held up pretty well in the refrigerator for a day or two, and I enjoyed some with my lunch today.

The recipe calls for white Balsamic vinegar. I've never heard of such a thing before. According to this site, white balsamic vinegar is:

A version of Balsamic vinegar that is made with white wine vinegar and grape must (fresh pressed juice with seeds and skins). Traditional balsamic vinegar is made with red wine vinegar, thus providing a deep reddish color which may add a undesirable tint to the food being dressed. The white variety is often used when the color of white sauces or foods will be adversely affected by the dark brown color of traditional balsamic vinegar. White balsamic vinegar is milder and less sweet than regular Balsamic vinegar and is often considered more suitable for use with salad dressings, since it does not have a strong flavor that can be overpowering when used on salad greens.

I was impressed that my local mega-mart not only carried it, but even had it as a product in its in-house line of "fancy food." Way to go mega-mart! I tasted some of the vinegar on its own before I put it into the salad, and it certainly is milder and thinner than regular balsamic. I thought that it was actually a little sweeter than regular balsamic, and reminded me of cider vinegar. (Hey, wait a minute. Did the mega-mart pull a fast one on me? If so, shame on you mega-mart!)

As was the case with the Watermelon Gazpacho and the Watermelon Rind Chutney, it was hard to find a perceptible watermelon flavor in the finished salad. I sensed a glimmer of watermelon every couple of bites, but for the most part, I couldn't tell whether I was eating watermelon or tomato, or both. What I did sense was refreshment and a nice melding of cool flavors and different textures. The feta gave the salad a nice saltiness and tang, but if I had it to do over again, I'd add more feta. Not surprising, since I always want to add more feta to any recipe that calls for feta. What can I say, I like the stuff.

My wife put it well when she said that this salad was very good, but it wasn't a "revelation." She also accused me of "grade inflation" with my ratings, and suggested that I should reserve "A" ratings for dishes that are revelations. So, it's for that reason that this recipe gets a B.

Date Cooked: August 10, 2008
Degree of Difficulty: Easy
Rating: B

29. Watermelon Rind Chutney (p. 905)

For me, this recipe was all about the saying, "waste not, want not." Not only did this recipe make use of the rinds from my Watermelon Gazpacho, it also was an opportunity to get another recipe under my belt.

The recipe is pretty easy. First, cut the rind into two-inch-wide strips, peel off the outer green skin with a vegetable peeler, and remove any remaining pink flesh so that you're just left with the white part of the rind. Then cut the rinds into 1/2 inch dice and combine them with cider vinegar, water, sugar, minced hot pepper (I used pickled serranos, because fresh chilies are still suspect), minced garlic, crushed black peppercorns, and an obscene amount of minced fresh ginger. Simmer it for about an hour until the rind is tender and the liquid is syrupy. If I were to make this again, I might simmer it a bit longer, because it ended up being thinner than I wanted it to be, even after it cooled.

The dominant flavor in this chutney is ginger, but the undertones of black pepper, cider vinegar and garlic still come though, and after each bite, you're left with a pleasant amount of heat from the chili. The one thing that you don't get from this chutney is any watermelon flavor. The rind is a totally blank slate that absorbs the other flavors in the chutney.

The Book suggests making little canapes of crackers and cream cheese topped with a little bit of chutney. What a great treat. I also enjoyed the chutney on sandwiches of grilled chicken and baby spinach for my brown-bag lunches all week. Tasty! This recipe was a pleasant surprise.

The recipe yields three cups, and even though it keeps for up to a month in the fridge, that's a whole lot of chutney, so I halved the recipe.

Date Cooked: July 20, 2008
Degree of Difficulty: Easy
Rating: B+

27. Watermelon Gazpacho (p. 89)

Recipes like this are what The Project is all about. This is the type of recipe that I might come across while flipping through a cookbook and say, "Watermelon Gazpacho?" and keep on flipping. But, since one of the goals of The Project is "to learn new things and try new foods," I gave this recipe a little more consideration. And since another one of the goals of The Project is to cook every recipe in The Book, I have to make this sometime, and with watermelons in season and cheap (44 cents a pound!) there's no time like the present.

The Book's blurb about this soup suggests that if you served it to your guests without telling them what it is, they'd never be able to guess. I didn't test this theory (My wife knew exactly what I was making, and nevertheless gamely gave it a try. Thanks, for being a good sport, Sweetie.) but I'm sure that it would work. The soup looks a lot like tomato bisque, and vaguely tastes like it, too. With the exception of the diced watermelon garnish, there's nothing fruity or sweet about this soup.

This recipe is not at all difficult, but it isn't quick either, and your blender gets quite a workout. First, you cut the flesh of a four-pound watermelon into chunks. Then you puree the chunks in the blender (reserving a cup of the flesh for the garnish) and strain the juice. The remaining ingredients (a pretty eclectic and unusual collection including whole almonds, white sandwich bread, garlic, ice cubes, and oil) are all blended with the juice to make the soup. There was way too much liquid for my blender to handle all at once, so I had to do this in batches.

The word to describe this soup is "interesting." (What a great word! Do I mean "interesting good" or "interesting bad"? The truth is that I'm not really sure, which means that this soup really and truly is "interesting.") With the exception of the garlic (more on that in a second), all of the flavors of the components of this soup disappear and meld into a completely new savory flavor that you can't quite place. There is no perceptible watermelon or almond flavor at all. The dominant flavor in this soup was garlic, which is unfortunate, but I find that's usually the case with recipes that call for raw garlic. Even when I use less garlic than called for (I used two cloves here rather than the three that The Book uses), the raw garlic simply overtakes a dish like a bully in a schoolyard. The texture of the soup is nice. It's thick and creamy (even though there's no cream). The ground almonds, however, make the soup, which is otherwise silky and smooth, a little bit grainy. The sweet and crisp diced watermelon garnish was a nice contrast in texture and flavor.

I think that this soup is meant to be eaten all at once. I had some leftover soup for lunch a couple of days later and the garlic flavor had intensified to the point of leaving a burning sensation on my tongue. (Don't get me wrong, I love garlic, but this was just too much). And even though I stirred it well before eating, the bread and almond particles had fallen irretrievably out of the suspension and there was an odd and unappetizing sludge at the bottom of the bowl.

I'm glad that I made this soup, and I enjoyed eating it, but I won't be making it again.

Date Cooked: July 20, 2008
Degree of Difficulty: Medium
Rating: C