Watermelon gazpacho and a staggering harvest

The prospect of eating watermelon was enough to make me squeal when I was a wee young thing. I chewed my way through slices like a silk worm with mulberry leaves. At some point, though, and I don't remember when, I grew out of eating the sticky, awkward fruit. I guess my vanity has taken a few weird turns into my adulthood: I don't like to show my neck; I won't wear hats; and I don't eat watermelon.

Until now.

That is, the watermelon part.  I still don't do the other two.



I've tried a few cold soups lately. Strawberry: a yummy, sweet soup. Peach: more sweetness. Yesterday I tasted a zucchini lemon blend which was not sweet though quite buttery. Hands down, however, this Watermelon Gazpacho is the best savory cold soup evah.

Our version is based on the recipe out of Taste of Home's Simple & Delicious magazine, the July/August 2009 issue. We omitted the jalapeno pepper; the ginger adds enough heat for me.  Also, we substituted parsley for the cilantro because I'm not on Team Cilantro.


Watermelon Gazpacho

4 cups cubed watermelon, seeded, divided
2 tablespoons lime juice
1 tablespoon grated lime peel
1 teaspoon minced fresh ginger root
1 teaspoon salt
2 medium tomatoes, chopped
1 small cucumber, chopped
1 small green pepper, chopped
1/4 cup minced fresh parsley
1 green onion, chopped

Puree 3 cups watermelon in a blender or food processor. Cut remaining watermelon in 1/2-inch pieces; set aside.

In a large bowl, combine the watermelon puree, lime juice, lime peel, ginger and salt. Stir in the tomato, cucumber, green pepper, parsley, onions, and cubed watermelon. Chill until serving. Yield: 4 servings


And now to reveal our staggering tomato harvest so far this season.



Yep. And here is what it looks like to the right of a supermarket tomato.



Thank you, month of 100+ - degree days of drought. The home-grown tomato, a Silvery Fir Tree heirloom variety, really is supposed to be that small. Just not so...singular. We can count on two hands how many cherry-sized Golden Nugget tomatoes we're waiting to ripen.

And waiting. And waiting. Like the world is doing for me to pull my hair into a ponytail.