The ultimate in use-it-all-up-frugality, watermelon rind chutney snatches luxury from the jaws of the compost bin.
I first tasted some traditional style southern watermelon rind pickles as a child, and found them, shall we say, not to my taste. As I recall, the gag reflex came into play. Since I like some form of nearly every food I know, these pickles were filed in a really special mental category. I therefore did not mess with watermelon rinds for many years. But there was a lingering fascination, because I can never quite believe there is a food, beloved of others, which I cannot appreciate.
When I first tasted fresh cilantro on some hommous at a party years ago, I was horrified. "What is this poisonous vileness?" I asked (silently, I hope). I continued to be fascinated by the flavor, somehow different from other tastes entirely. So I kept trying it, and it grew on me, and I now adore it, add it to too many dishes, and believe that combined with lime juice, it is pure heaven. When I read that some people are genetically predisposed to hate cilantro, I cannot help feeling this is hooey. Thus, I must restrain myself from trying to convince the reluctant to keep on trying it for a few years. This is not, I realize, something that most people would find a useful tip.
Anyhow, back to watermelon rinds. I have not been a big watermelon consumer, since I live alone. The typical watermelon is immense, as you know, and the cut sections on offer have, to me, a dried out look. However, last year I got a beautiful little basketball sized baby one in my farmbox, which was divine in every way, including size. It was sweet as can be, and had no seeds to speak of. I realized that it was not simply laziness which made me dislike dealing with watermelon seeds. The flesh of this seedless gem was so nice and firm, instead of slushy-it was gorgeous.
These little melons appeared in the supermarket this year, coincidentally at the time I was reading Alfred Portale's "Simple Pleasures." This slim book, nicely covered with a wipeoff surface (a trend in cookbook publishing which I continue to applaud) offers a truly dynamite simple watermelon salad recipe, which is, with saucy type barbecues, unequaled. The salad involves specifically these seedless watermelon gems, which are cubed, mixed with cubed cucumbers, chopped red onion, and halved cherry tomatos, and laced with a vinagrette. I am thus producing some serious piles of watermelon rind.
I had spotted this recipe for the chutney in a Gourmet magazine last summer, and clipped it out. I thought about the cilantro thing and went for it. I turns out that I truly love this stuff, with indian foods, on cold meat samwiches, with ham, it is just very nice indeed.
Rind from about 8 lbs of watermelon
1 1/2 cups cider vinegar
1 1/2 cups water
2 cups sugar
1/4 cup minced fresh ginger
2 tbsp minced hot green chili pepper
1 1/2 tbsp minced garlic
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp black peppercorns, coarsely crushed
Peel the green outer rind off and scrape any pink watermelon off the inside, leaving only whiteness. Cut into 1/2" cubes. You should have about 5 or 6 cups of these babies. Put all the ingredients in a big, non-reactive heavy pot. Bring to a boil, stir until sugar is dissoved. Reduce heat and cook it down for an hour, until your syrup is quite thick. Remove from heat and cool. Put in jars and refrigerate from 1 day to 1 month. It should last a month in the fridge. It is not preserved, so don't leave it on the shelf or keep it forever.
I think that this might be mixed with yogurt for a yummy raita. Gourmet suggested serving it, southern-style, on minature biscuits with country ham. I would definitely be willing to try that.
When ever I get in the sort of mood where I am determined not to waste a scrap, I am reminded of the first, and one of the best food world memoirs I've read ,The Kitchen Book by Nicholas Freeling. This well done tale of Freeling's years as a down and out apprentice cook in Europe, first published here, I think, in the seventies, helped me realize that I would be lucky to remain an amateur. In the hotels where he worked, nothing, however odious, was thrown away. This book is now apparently only in print in a combined paperback edition with The Cook, which is also good. Freeling, who is English, but lived in France most of his life, went on to write a well-done, quirky series of detective novels about Van Der Valk, an Amsterdam cop with a french wife, Arlette, whose cooking was always a feature in the stories, at least for me.
I love chutneys and so does my husband. I have always wanted to make watermelon rind pickles but the rest of my family goes *gaaahh* every time I mention it. Since, as you pointed out, watermelons are rather large I don't fancy finding myself with 16 pints of pickles that no one will eat. This chutney recipe, on the other hand, is more intriguing and will surely pass muster. I'll have to scavenge the rinds from the 4th of July festivities this weekend.
P.S. We love cilantro and grow it in the garden. My only peeve is that it is never ready at the same time as the tomatoes for making cilantro salsa.
Posted by: Mira | July 01, 2005 at 08:27 AM
Oh, this is the best idea! I've been noshing on watermelon all weekend and was contemplating saving the rinds for pickles, but every time I think about making it, I lose my nerve, thinking I'll be the sole consumer of gallons of pickles. Chutney, though -- chutney is a friendly condiment. It loves everything, everything loves it. I will definitely be turning some of this out. Lindy, you're brilliant. :)
Posted by: Bakerina | July 02, 2005 at 04:05 PM