Monday, August 16, 2010

Cantaloupe Caprese.....ahhhhhh!


Weeds deserve our respect....and loathing. Bi-polar? I know. The emotional swings have been annoying, even to me. The summer of ’10 has proven to be a hot, wet one in the Chicagoland area - perfect for growing weeds. My tomatoes are fairly tasteless, my peppers are not growing at all (except the serranos), the zucchini....well, I got one. My list of complaints over my lack of food production go on and on. But the weeds....they are thriving! Because the builder of my house liked to do whatever was quick and easy for him (she said bitterly), the foundation on one side spills out under the soil for a few feet. Nothing can grow there. Every year I put decorative flower pots, filled with flowers to disguise this wasteland. This year the flower pots are engulfed in a splendid display of one-foot high weeds. From a distance it doesn’t look bad...well, from a distance with one eye closed and the other one squinting... As I was getting up the courage to go and attack this weed patch, it got me thinking of another time in my life when the plants could not be controlled. If you’ve ever grown any kind of vining vegetable/fruit plant, you know that they can take over a place while you’ve got your back turned, pouring a glass of lemonade. In this previous case, however, I was not complaining...too much.


Cantaloupe. The word itself is beautiful. Roll it around in your mouth and tell me it doesn’t feel good. I can never spell it, but I love saying it. And eating it. Years ago when I still lived in Massachusetts, I planted a few beautiful little plants with barely four leaves on them. Little mounds with furry green sticking out. I couldn’t understand why the directions insisted on a few feet between mounds, so I simply ignored that point. As usual, I lived to regret it. Monster vs. Aliens. Have you guys seen that movie? It’s a kids movie that came out a couple of years ago. The pumpkins in the patch grow wild, sprout legs and chase little kids around. Yeah, my cantaloupe plants were something like that. As long as I could hack off a cantaloupe every now and then, I didn’t mind. It would take an act of God, some high-octane manure and hourly prayer/chanting to grow anything resembling a cantaloupe on the soil I now call home. I have to buy them. No mind, they’re still good. This summer, along with the weeds, my recipes for cantaloupe products has been abundant. I thought we had had it all when I came across a recipe in La Cucina Italiana magazine that was sort of an ‘aaahhhhhh’ moment for me. We eat a lot of caprese salad here - tomatoes, mozzarella and basil. La Cucina substituted the tomatoes with cantaloupe. Aaaaahhhhhh.... A sweet, comfortable, luxurious breathe of amazing! This is a ‘must try’...seriously. Couldn’t be easier and will leave you thinking about summer - warm breeze, flip-flop summer - for a long time to come.


Caprese di melone con pesto leggero

(melon caprese with a light pesto)


1 packed cup fresh basil leaves

1/4 cup plus 1 teaspoon extra-virgin olive oil

2 tbsp pin nuts

fine sea salt

1 small (about 2 lb) cantaloupe, halved crosswise, seeded, sliced

3/4 pound fresh mozzarella


Combine basil, oil, pine nuts and generous pinch salt in a food processor (they recommend blender...I couldn’t get it to come together in a blender, but you may be able to); puree until smooth. Adjust salt to taste.


Arrange cantaloupe on a plate, inserting slices of mozzarella in between. Drizzle pesto over entire plate. Serve. It’s really that easy!




Although my kids have always loved (and continue to love) the original caprese salad, they have begged for this version since first trying it. My husband, who is a purist, also loves this! Indulge your senses....it’s so worth it!


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