When my friend Ali was sick, she got on this crazy watermelon kick that was a little mystifying to me at the time. "What can I bring you?" you'd ask over the phone, and she rattle off some things and then say, "Did I already say watermelon chunks?" and you'd say, "You did." And then she'd lower her voice, like when your great aunt used to ask if this or that person was
*gay*, and she'd say almost in a whisper, "Did I already say watermelon
juice?" And you'd laugh and whisper back, "You did." When you brought her the watermelon, she would eat it in the style of a person in a movie about drug addicts shooting up: the frantic opening of the container, the shaky shoving of cubes into her mouth, the slumping over in relief, the sleeping of it off afterwards.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAExQpIGbBbkIRVLZG11OHmJHbZB7DtZnRX97tZjH_Fzw72mSU-ID99LfVypcmaTlG8vbL0-GSN1-CSlbfgWwwt1JJoGnCQMKWyHieqZnkqUk37KKJ1IOCsF5cxd9LE6R66_VV/s280/watermelonjuicemise.jpg) |
+ ice, and that's it |
We theorized that it was the potassium she was craving, and maybe it was. And maybe it is the potassium that I am craving now, but I really can't say because when I drink this watermelon juice, I think of the word
elixir. It is, very frequently, the only thing I can imagine eating, even though I do understand that "eating" is not really the proper description of sucking it down.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBAp6dPyMTYxBzQaK_isGPKF33geAaFOUjfgBZewSn1_tsGYqZyK7XPvyshdb33peaELPKMrv-RBtNh-OsNdTdtZnbIp8GToCdbrw5P5K_Fr3o7yNhF5XZ8qr1VUSn35lRU9bk/s280/watermelonjuicebirdy.jpg) |
A watermelon lover. |
It's cold and delicious and perfectly quenching and I feel great during and after the guzzling of vast quantities of it. Plus, it's dead simple, and you can even make it in a shitty blender without too much trouble, which I found out in our eensy Wellfleet rental, where I made lots of it.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcxoIXNgc2y_A_8tugZs0bt39pEtNM0IZelKkxXzJrq3UnbZHGFtQczybALnLJXVa7r6Bsd7S9OyUvoZwUtEdJYpvUTRceH67yDBTqXYcxetCDKqOxE60FjfPqhqEWsBHUxGRu/s280/BenCape2018.JPG) |
College-bound! But first. . . the eensy Wellfleet rental. |
Please make watermelon juice. I'm sure it would be an incredible base for a cocktail, too, but as it is, it's like some kind of magical soul refresher. Which you need if it's a bazillion degrees out every second and you're busy pretending that your beloved (watermelon-hating) kid isn't about to leave home.
P.S. Do you need a great book for the end of summer? I cannot recommend
this enough. I loved it.
Lime-Scented Watermelon Juice
We've been making this with and without a small handful of fresh mint leaves, but I think we've concluded that it's better without. You should try it both ways, though. This makes about 4 normal-sized servings, or 1 serving for a giant who is fee-fi-fo-fumming around demanding watermelon juice.
Ingredients
Enough seedless watermelon chunks to fill your blender, around 1/4 of a melon (if you've got a powerful blender, feel free to use a watermelon with seeds, which add tons of nutrients)
The juice and grated zest of 1/2 a lime
A large handful of ice cubes
Put the melon and lime juice and zest in the blender and blend a little to lower the volume (you may need to tamp the fruit down and/or add a splash of water to get it started). Once there's room, add the ice and blend until smooth. Guzzle.