A Summertime Drink to Part the Clouds

It’s summer in California… kinda. Just like it’s sunny and warm… kinda. If you live in this glorious state, you know to what I’m referring. For all the assumptions made about our weather, Mother Nature really felt like sticking it to us this year.  It is gloomy. It is gray.  And when the sun comes out, people rejoice in the streets. I’m beginning to feel like I’m living on the east coast during the other 9 months of the year.

But fear not, residents and non-residents alike!  I have a cure to help make the sun come out and it just so happens to include one of my favorite summer fruit… Watermelon.

If you don’t like watermelon, you should probably leave this site and never come back.  Kidding!  Don’t go!  But really, what’s your problem?

Watermelon is the quintessential summertime fruit and the perfect antidote for hot (or foggy and miserable) days. When I was little (I have to admit, with all the references I make on this site to my childhood, I’m beginning to feel a little like Rose from The Golden Girls telling stories about St. Olaf), 

I would spend my summers in Calistoga, a small town located in the Napa Valley.  My grandparents had a decent little farm, sans animals, surrounded by vineyard, and my sister and I would run amok all day, every day. In the afternoons, my grandma would serve us round, thick slices of cold watermelon. She’d place it in an old pie tin, hand us a spoon, and send us outside where we could spit out the seeds as we ate. This was, of course, when watermelons still had seeds…

In California, watermelon can be had year round, but it truly only tastes sublime May through September. Personally, I find it tastes best when it’s crisp, juicy and sweet; basically, sun-ripened perfection.

Thus, ladies and gentlemen, I introduce you to basil-infused watermelon lemonade. If there was a Victorian gent* hanging out in my apartment, reading over my shoulder, I have a feeling he’d exclaim with vigor, “BLASPHEMY!  Watermelon and BASIL intruding upon the sanctity that is lemonade… Never!” Luckily, I’m by myself as I type this, and let me tell you, once you try this recipe, you will want to make it over and over and over again. 

"Well, I just don't know what to think of that.

Watermelon and basil, my fanny!"

I found this recipe in Cooking Light magazine a few years back. It sounded interesting, but honestly, once I finally made it, I was blown away by how delicious and refreshing it is. Do not be weary of the basil; the herb is used to infuse the simple syrup, which gives the drink its sweetness, and the leaves are strained out before the syrup is added.

Basil-infused watermelon lemonade is the kind of fancy pants drink that is incredibly easy to make, but sounds wonderfully complex and difficult to the people you serve it to (even dubious Victorian gentlemen will have to concede).  It has also been known to bring out the sun.

This may just be a rumor.

But you should find out for yourself.

Happy Drinking (and cheers!),

Elizabeth






Even Buddha can't say no!





Basil-infused Watermelon Lemonade**
From Cooking Light Magazine, August 2007


1 cup water
3/4 cup sugar
1 cup thinly sliced fresh basil
8 cups cubed, seeded watermelon
1/2 cup fresh lemon juice (about 3 juicy lemons)


Combine water and sugar in a small saucepan; bring to a boil.  Reduce heat, and simmer for 5 minutes or until sugar dissolves. Remove from heat. Stir in basil; chill 1 hour. Strain sugar mixture through a sieve over a bowl, and discard basil.

Place watermelon in a blender; process until smooth (attempt to not eat watermelon while preparing it... Fail miserably. Take awkward, unflattering photo of yourself.)

Pour watermelon puree through a fine sieve into a large bowl, reserving liquid; discard solids.

Combine watermelon liquid, sugar mixture, and juice in a pitcher; chill.

Watch as the sun peeks from behind the clouds. Enjoy.

* Speaking of Victorian gentlemen, get excited for the arrival of a dear friend of ours in the coming weeks. A distinguished fellow, he is sure to tickle your fancy (and your taste buds)! Stay tuned...

** I tweak this recipe every time I make it. Personally, I think the amount of basil simple syrup added to the watermelon juice is too much!  I also don't measure out the watermelon like this recipe does.  I buy two small, ripe watermelons and use 1 and 1/2 of them. I find it makes an excellent amount of juice.  After adding the lemon to the watermelon juice, I pour the simple syrup in slowly, constantly tasting it until I find it is just right!

*** For the naughty imp in all of us, a cocktail version (with booze):

Basil-infused Watermelon Lemonade Martini

1 1/2 ounces chilled vodka

1 ounce basil-infused watermelon lemonade

1/2 ounce basil simple syrup

Combine ingredients in a cocktail shaker over ice.  Cover shaker with pint glass and give it a whirl!  Strain liquid into chilled martini glass. Garnish with small basil leaf. Serve.  Makes one martini.

**** For the parents who need a delicious, healthy treat for their children (sans booze, naturally):

Pour basil-infused watermelon lemonade into popsicle molds (like these). Freeze in freezer. Serve to children (or adults!) and watch as their eyes sparkle with delight!

'Bouleh, 'bouleh!*

My husband accused me of making too much food the other day.  He did it in a way that compared my cooking to the spending habits of Marie Antoinette… Overzealous. 

Apparently when I prepare meals for the two of us, we wind up with enough to feed at least four, sometimes eight additional people.  He then went on to suggest that I start halving recipes in order to keep from wasting food.

Unfortunately, I have a huge problem with this.  See, I cook extra food for one reason and one reason alone: Leftovers.  Personally, I enjoy a sandwich for lunch as much as the next person (although I will mention I am incredibly picky when it comes to the preparation of said sandwiches), but if I had to choose, I’d go with leftover lunches every time.   Do you ever find yourself excited over the possibility of eating last night’s dinner a day or two (or three) later?  It happens to me more often than I'd like to admit.

I will concede he left me feeling guilty about it.  Maybe he doesn’t love leftovers as much as I do.  Perhaps he eats more of them than I ever will (but c’mon people, isn’t this one of the assumed “husband responsibilities?”).  Either way, we are clearly at a standstill in our beliefs.

There is one recipe I will never feel bad about making excessive amounts of and it’s tabbouleh. I have a sneaking suspicion there are one of two things happening in the minds of our readers right now.  One is, “I love tabbouleh!”  The other is, “What’s tabbouleh?”  For those of you who don’t know, I’m about to change your life.

Tabbouleh is a dish that comes to us from our Lebanese brothers and sisters across the Atlantic.  Essentially, it’s a salad made with bulgar wheat, cucumbers, parsley, mint, green onion, and the holy trinity of Mediterranean cooking: olive oil, lemon juice and salt.  Not only is it incredibly easy to make- you feel good, healthy and nourished while eating it, too. 

My husband still manages to complain about leftovers when I make tabbouleh, but it’s usually because I’ve eaten the entire bowl on my own.

Happy Eating,

Elizabeth

Tabbouleh

1 heaping cup bulgar wheat**

1 bunch of parsley

1 bunch of mint

1 bunch of green onions (scraggly ends removed)

1 cucumber, peeled and chopped

Lemon juice  ***

Extra virgin olive oil ***

Salt ***

Pour cup of bulgar wheat into a large bowl.  Pour hot water over the bulgar wheat (at least enough to cover the top of the wheat) and let sit for an hour.  Drain in colander and get as much excess water out of the grain as you can.

Using a food processor (I love this one particularly), blend the parsley, mint and green onions (stems and all) until well chopped (not to the point of green paste, but enough where the bits of herbs are very small).  If you do not have a food processor, a blender will do, however, there will be a considerable amount of scraping down the sides in comparison). 

Combine green mixture with bulgar wheat.  Add lemon juice, olive oil and salt***.  Finally, add cucumber and serve immediately.  Can be stored for up to a week in the fridge, but tastes best eaten fresh.

* I thought I should mention why I chose this particular title for this write-up.  When I was little, my mom made tabbouleh all the time.  Whenever she’d whip up a batch, she’d start singing, “’Bouleh, ‘Bouleh” to the tune of “Wooly Bully,” while moving her arms back and forth like she was doing a fast-paced hula dance. I urge you to do the same.

** Bulgar wheat can be found at most health food stores, and some regular supermarkets.  Look for it in the bulk or grain sections of your favorite grocery.

*** Were you freaking out back there when I didn’t put measurements down for the lemon, olive oil and salt?  That’s because it’s up to you, silly!  I know what you’re thinking… “How will I know what’s enough?!!!!”  Simple: you trust your palate and go slow.  Remember, it’s always easy to add more, but it’s impossible to take flavor out.  I would start by squeezing the juice of one juicy lemon, adding two tablespoons of olive oil, and a hearty pinch of salt (salt is a VERY necessary component of this dish).  Mix it, taste it, then go from there.