Watermelon and Feta

I have just come back from a great visit to my home city, refreshed and laden down with ingredients for cooking and baking that I have yet to find in Regina. I probably spent a little more than I should have, but who could turn down bergamot and pistachio extracts? Or a dark fuchia-purple opaque vinegar that has been infused with cassis? Or the five colour orgoglio pasta that looks like bits of cubist paintings shredded and rolled into tiny tubes? Or the Polish fruit teas that smell like summer in a bag? Not me.

Having these new things to play with has revived my cooking brain a bit, which was feeling a little burnt out and bored prior to the trip. I can now make the chestnut scones I'd read about in Dorie Greenspan's Baking. I can try a new variation on pistachio gelato. I can muck about with the bergamot extract and see what happens. It's exciting and I needed this sense of play back. I also needed the heat to not be hovering around 40C with the humidity and it has obliged. It's still warm here, but not so prohibitively warm that I feel like I can't cook, although I might save my baking for the late evening just the same. I've also just finished reading Blood, Bones & Butter, which is an amazing memoir full of wry and gritty humour and descriptions of food and places that practically glow in the mind. It has stoked and sated my wanderlust in equal measures and tempted me back to the kitchen to make good, simple food.

Before I left to go home, the heat here was intense. Part of the problem with that kind of heat is that I don't feel much like eating and far less like cooking. I can sit and research the entire day if I have iced teas to sip on, but negotiating solid food decisions becomes difficult. I had splurged on an abundance of produce at the beginning of the month (yay scholarship disbursements!) and was mostly eating things  plain and raw. Along with the Rainier cherries, apricots, cucumbers, and tomatoes I had purchased was a small watermelon. This watermelon became dinner one night when it was too hot to even think. Initially I prepared half the watermelon because I wasn't that hungry, but the flavours wowed me so much that I went back for the other half and polished it off, too. This is my new favourite way to eat watermelon and I was so surprised by it that I texted a few friends that night extolling its virtues. You will want to try this, promise.

You don't have to stick to the proportions of the recipe if you don't feel like it - adapt it to whatever suits you. I didn't use the full measure of feta, and I added a bit of fresh, course ground black pepper to the second batch. I also omitted the olive oil and the onion the second time around, although fruit infused olive oils could probably be a lot of fun here. The basil is a surprising and delicious addition - give it a shot, even if you have your doubts about it.

Watermelon and Feta
(p. 282, Plenty)

Serves 4 (if you feel like sharing)

10 oz feta
4 1/2 cups large chunks of watermelon
3/4 cup basil leaves (loosely to moderately packed)
1/2 small red onion, very thinly sliced (optional)
olive oil

Slice the feta into thin pieces or break it by hand into smallish chunks. Arrange everything except the oil on a serving platter or in a shallow bowl and gently mix them together a bit. Drizzle with the olive oil and serve immediately.