Savory Watermelon?

Mom loved making new salads, and I don’t mean the kind that are eighty percent lettuce. I mean the flavorful, colorful, hearty salads that could be a meal themselves, but somehow always end up as side dishes. I mean the salads that fill your stomach and your soul, like Grandma’s potato salad. Mom made a bacon, broccoli, and raisin salad that could make you cry, partly because it was delicious and partly because it had at least five hundred calories a spoonful.

I remember we used to have a heavy, wooden deck sandwiched between our backyard patio and our outcropping living room. An old, wooden picnic table rested on it, honestly looking as though we had stolen it from a public park. Dad had a huge, red umbrella that covered more than just the table and annoyed Mom to no end. He still has that umbrella, but it’s now almost a salmon pink as the years have faded it.

My sister’s birthday falls directly in the middle of Summer, so we were used to having some sort of cookout to celebrate. My family of six would all make sure to be home, and Mom would invite any uncles, aunts, or cousins that lived in the area. Nowadays, my sister chooses foods like stew for her birthday meal, even in the middle of heat waves. Back then, Dad would make his incredible burgers with fancy cheddar cheese, brioche buns, and Dijon mustard and ketchup. We always had baby dill pickles on the side, and my little brother would eat his weight in the tiny, vinegar-soaked cucumbers.

My cousin would request kettle-cooked chips, wanting something salty and crunchy with her meal. Attempting to be healthier, Mom would buy a plethora of fruits and assemble a vibrant, rainbow fruit salad. Every year had slightly different fruits, but there were always bananas, blueberries, strawberries, and grapes. Sometimes, she put kiwis and pineapple in it, too, really delving into the fruity Summer flavors. That was her usual go-to Summer salad, well, and the broccoli salad that I mentioned earlier.

My sister had a specific cake that she would ask for every year. It was a decadent, moist, chocolate sheet cake with a layer of coffee-flavored mousse and a thick chocolate ganache to top it. On birthdays, we usually were allowed to eat more than one piece. My siblings and I definitely made sure to save room for the two extravagant cake pieces.

Only a few years back, Mom decided to introduce us to a new side salad, and the base was watermelon. We assumed it was a fancier fruit salad, readying ourselves to see what exotic fruits she had found for this one. I guess my aunts had just raved to Mom that this salad was extremely good, but Mom wouldn’t tell us anything else about how it was made.

The day came for our dinner, and we had all the usual foods: burgers, kettle chips, pickles, et cetera, but in the center of the table laid the new salad. It sat in a transparent red bowl decorated with yellow, red, and blue squiggles. Until we all took our seats, we could only actually see the balled watermelon, thinking that maybe Mom had changed her mind and just gave us the raw fruit.

Upon sitting, though, we all noticed that there were other ingredients in the bowl, hugging the watermelon as if they knew they didn’t belong there. Red onion added flecks of purple to the pink salad, and feta cheese crumbles brought a fresh, white flair to the concoction. A mixture of oil and vinegar glazed the hodgepodge of food, creating a sharply sour yet fruity sweet scent I have not encountered anywhere else. The last components of this crazy combination were salt and pepper, clearly indicating that this dish was supposed to be savory.

With faces of disgust, we all took a bowl of this watermelon mess. Mom tried to encourage us to taste it. I think everyone except her ate the rest of their meal before making eye contact again with the monstrosity of a salad. Dad tried it first, and we all watched in shock as his eyebrows lifted, and a smile spread across his face.

“This is really good.”

Soon, we were all eating the salad, even my picky-eating brothers. We couldn't get enough of it. It was perfectly light, yet full of flavor. Mom even made it a few more times that Summer, then tried to make it in the fall for my birthday. Though still delicious, we decided that it was, and should remain, a Summer-only food. In fact, for our little family, I would argue that it has become the Summer food. Just make sure, should you ever attempt to make it, the watermelon has to be seedless.