Pork Chops and Applesauce

“You’re such a wiggle-worm!” Gramma said. Then she’d hug me and rest her hands lovingly on my tiny shoulders as a gentle reminder for me to stay near the house. My desire was to bolt past the red raspberry canes with their plump juicy berries, and zigzag between the towering pea patch poles to meet Grandpa at the watermelon field gate.

“Here comes Grandpa! Look Gramma! The melon he picked today is a whopper!” I touched my fingertips to my mouth and sucked in quickly attempting to keep from drooling. The foretaste of the succulent melon-of-the-day was too great and I wiped the dribble from my chin with my dusty palm.

“Just be patient young’n. He’s on his way!” Gramma said. My back pressed against her well-worn cotton apron while both of us waited in the blistering August sun.

I squirmed with anticipation as Grandpa lumbered toward the house with the green-striped 25 pounder tucked proudly under his weathered arm. He ended his morning in the field by handpicking a choice watermelon, and then we’d meet under the restful shade of the broad-leafed catalpa tree to spend several hours reaping the refreshing fruits of his labor.

Every year, my grandfather, Claude Belles, grew 10-acres of Hermiston watermelons on incessantly thirsty ground in Eastern Oregon. He was a stocky built man, with thin, receding salt and pepper hair. His neck was nonexistent, making apparent his inherent bullheadedness. He was a man of few words who never raised his voice, but our communication was loud and clear in regard to our mutual love of “The King of Melons.”

Grandpa would collapse into a creaky wooden lawn chair with the melon, and I would anxiously seat myself on the ground near his water-stained boots. The melon would make a familiar hollow thud when he placed it on the thick grass between us. Expertly, Grandpa slid the tip of his large razor-edged garden knife into the lush watermelon. Slowly, the melon would start splitting open length-wise, revealing its red, plumpness. So ripe, ready and filled with pure melon juice it would pop - giving way to melon chunks rocking like a laden cradle on the uncut lawn. Without fail my dust covered arms, legs and face would become dotted with splashes of pink sugary juice.

“It’s perfect!” he’d say in his usual deep serious voice. We’d burst into laughter, validating Grandpa’s success as a melon farmer. Then, he’d carve the fleshy, loaf-shaped heart from each watermelon half.

“One heart for you and one heart for me...no seeds!” Just before we took our first glorious bites, Grandpa would flash me a quick wink and he’d smile, revealing his babyish tooth free gums. Then we’d devour the sweet gourd of heaven using our hands for eating utensils, sticky pink juice streaming down to our elbows.

My grandfather had numerous trades throughout his life; in his early days he was a gambler, poker being his specialty, then he took up barbering and later he became a carpenter and a farmer. He was indeed a jack-of-all-trades, but to me he was the master of growing the sweetest, and juiciest watermelon that has ever passed my lips, even to this day.

So, Grandpa, here’s to you! Every time I make this scrumptious Father’s Day Fruit Salad, I am reminded of the sweltering summer afternoons we spent together swatting ants and slurping down your homegrown watermelons while sitting under the protective shade of the catalpa tree. And, Grandpa, as a special reminder of you, I always add extra big chunks of watermelon to the salad, “one heart for you and one heart for me…no seeds!”

Father’s Day Fruit Salad

4 Kiwi fruit
1 mango
3 to 4 cups watermelon
3 to 4 cups honeydew
3 to 4 cups cantaloupe
2 nectarines
1 cup cherries, pitted
1 cup strawberries, halved
1 Bermuda onion, chopped fine
½ bunch fresh cilantro, chopped or shredded
3 tablespoons lemon OR lime juice, fresh squeezed
2 cups mild OR medium green salsa (also called salsa verde)

The fruits listed above are a general idea of fruits that can be used for this salad, feel free to adjust fruits to your choosing (do not use bananas, they’re too soft).

Wash and de-seed all fruit. Slice fruit (fairly large pieces) into a large mixing bowl allowing the fruit to remain in layers, add onion and cilantro layers. Sprinkle with lemon OR lime juice and finish with green salsa. Leave the salad in layers, cover and refrigerate until it’s served. Toss just before serving. Makes 8 - 2 cup servings.

To make fruit salsa: Use same fruit choices as for salad. Chop fruits and onion fine; add cilantro, lemon and green salsa. Mix all ingredients together (do not leave in layers as for salad) cover and refrigerate overnight allowing salsa to “mush-up” and flavors to meld. Serve with tortilla chips.

Recipe originates from Trish Sells, Renton, Washington and Allegra Berrian, Seattle, Washington.