NASA, we have watermelon!

Okay, so I’m about a month late in sharing my news. But, since a giant, happy melon still sits on the vine waiting to bring life to my kitchen, I think my timing is adequate.

First, allow me to marvel at what a joy a watermelon is! From a tiny seedling no larger than a banana, in the blink of an eye, colossal green orbs are mounding up across the yard, spreading to occupy what feels like half the garden.

I was finally blessed with ripe melons once I waited for the leaves around the stem to turn brown. I thought my first, unripe melon was heavy, but my ripe melon was no comparison! That sucker weighed at least twice as much as my cat… so, 25 lbs? Is that possible? (I wish I had a scale.) When I plunked it down in the sink for a rinsing, my entire sink moved. That’s right! The weight of the thing nearly knocked my sink loose from the countertop (and this is a new, rock solid countertop, not an ancient one). I have never in my life seen a kitchen sink move, but this watermelon brought it to a shake.

Aside from its massiveness, I found another surprise in my hulking fruit. I placed (or, rather, dropped) it on my cutting board. Using my longest, thickest knife, I prepared for a major cutting event. As I began to plunge my knife into the green flesh, I jumped—afraid—like a child holding a balloon that pops.

Pow! My watermelon exploded, ripping open from end to end—all from a mere piercing. Only a short inch of the tip of my knife had met with the melon, yet upon impact, it exploded with release, bursting with the freshness that only a newly picked watermelon can produce. All that pent up ripeness just waiting to feed me.

That watermelon explosion might be one of my favorite kitchen experiences! It’s such an adrenaline-filled moment, totally out of the ordinary from the usual cutting and chopping routine. And it never gets old—even when I know it’s coming. It always shocks me, as I jump backward, afraid I’m being fired upon from the kitchen counter top.

In fact, I have been known to hand the knife over when visitors are present for the surgery. “No, really, you do the honors,” I insist. Then I clap like a school girl as I watch them jump away when the explosion occurs.

This experience, however, cannot outweigh the shear joy of that first, crisp bite. The firm fruit of a garden-grown, freshly picked watermelon is incomparable to anything you’ll find in the supermarket. Each bite crunches smoothly, while your throat is coated with sweet liquid. Refreshing. Reviving. Crisp heaven in a giant, green orb.

Garden watermelon: this is my big, pink happiness.

Tap the bottom to see if it makes a hollow sound. Look for a creamy yellow underside. The fruit should feel heavy for its size. How do you tell when a watermelon is finally ripe?! I have struggled with the above tips as a home gardener. Allow me to illustrate…

In early July, my watermelon vines had made their way out of the garden bed, into the neighboring bed, up the fence, and nearly to the neighbor’s yard. I watched excitedly! This excitement peaked when I noticed giant, green orbs beginning to poke through the foliage. They grew larger and larger until one day I was sure they must be ready to eat. (I think I waited a whopping one week.) I selected the largest melon from the pile—a heavy monster that I just knew was going to make my summer! It made a hollow noise when tapped. That was a sure sign of readiness. I practically ran to the kitchen, grabbed a butcher knife, and prepared for surgery. One large gash down the middle, and the melon fell gracefully open.

That’s when I had to hold back the tears. I was staring not at the deep pink of a ripe garden watermelon. Instead, I found myself looking into a white abyss. Perhaps I unknowingly planted a white-colored heirloom variety? Yes, that must be it! I sliced off a chunk and took a bite: lots of water, but almost no flavor. Why me?!

So, I waited. And waited. About a month passed. In early August, the watermelon vines became loaded with aphids. The sneaky pests were taking over. I decided to trim back any vines that weren’t feeding large melons. I accidentally snipped a vine that fed into a small watermelon. He had a creamy yellow bottom and was very heavy for his size. Bingo! Watermelon season has arrived! My mouth watered in anticipation.

Meanwhile, upon closer inspection of my remaining watermelons, I noticed that three of the beauties were sliced open, rotting on the ground. How did that happen? The openings looked like precise cuts. Did a bird do it? Did the watermelons themselves break open because they were overly ripe? Such a mystery! But that left one thing certain in my mind… the watermelon I had recently taken from the vine was sure to be ripe through and through!

In the kitchen, my discovery did not match my hypothesis. Once open, the melon revealed a pale pink flesh. This was a far cry from the pure white a month earlier, but certainly nowhere near ripe. My disappointment became palpable. Even my cat wanted to cry. Two watermelons that had gone under the knife did not make it out alive. Three lay on the ground, rotting. I am left with six fair-sized fruits that I am anxious to eat. I absolutely love that juicy splendor of deep, ripe watermelon. But I fear I am destined to be denied due to my amateur gardening skills.

I will make another attempt in a week or two. This time, I’ll try watching for the browning of the curly vines near the stem of the fruit. Maybe this will be the tip that finally works. Cross your fingers for me, and stay tuned to find out whether I ever discover ripe watermelon as the saga continues…!

Just six months ago, Lounge on 20 was a mere twinkle in the eye of owner Ali Mackani. Working at warp speed, the restaurant emerged from concept to reality, opening officially in late June. The creative genius behind this upscale addition to the MARRS building bubbles at every level. Mixologists prepare innovative, succulent beverages; the menu boasts nearly 30 kinds of champagne by the glass; and Chef David Boswell, hailing from Napa, provides local, seasonal fare with an elegant sophistication.

Mackani’s passion for combining fine cuisine in a socially-focused lounge setting stems from his background as an engineer at Intel. In that role, Mackani traveled a great deal. Upon returning home to Sacramento, he would yearn for dining experiences reminiscent of those in cities like San Francisco. Rather than wait around for someone to bring the experience to him, Mackani opened 55 Degrees—and now, Lounge ON20. Mackani beams with passion as he describes his vision for the lounge, a zeal that permeates the experience visitors can expect. I certainly experienced it during a recent chef’s tasting with other local food writers. We enjoyed a fun, zestful evening filled with laughter and fine flavors.

Bathed in pure white, the lounge is sprinkled with bright red accents and blond wood backgrounds. Seating is arranged in a variety of living-room styles: large, family dining tables for groups, or intimate, leather lounge chairs and coffee tables for smaller gatherings. Mackani wanted to create an atmosphere that invites the feeling of visiting a friend’s home for a cocktail party.

Yet, I’m guessing your friends can’t cook like Chef David Boswell! The lounge offers its delicious fare in a unique small plate menu: a “taste,” which serves one or two; a “small plate,” which serves about four; or a “platter,” for groups. On our visit, we sampled the house roasted olives, which slid easily from their pits in a glistening oil with a hint of herbs. The Roasted & Salted Marcon Almonds came naked in their whiteness, but sufficiently cloaked in a shade of salt.

We tasted a sparkling Schramsberg rose—a clean, light bubbly whose color and cool fit perfectly on a warm summer’s eve. The Bella Fragola, a cocktail of muddled strawberry, basil and gvori vodka refreshed and amazed simultaneously. With no added sugar, the beverage tasted of pure, sweet summer joy—a cocktail that could as easily been gulped as sipped. Delightful! The Feminine Mystique cocktail was fit to put hair on your chest—a bit heavy on the vodka and missing the pear flavor the menu promised.

The Local Strawberry Asian Pear Salad was served in a single, crisp, red endive leave with a blend of fresh herbs and spices, including chicories—a fresh, yet pleasantly biting dish that also whispered with artisan blue cheese. The Arincini “Fried Risotto” with White Truffle Oil sent our group of food writers (an otherwise sophisticated lot) to licking our plates—literally. We couldn’t help it! The plating gave the appearance that we were being served spaghetti meatballs—and the smell wafting heavily from them made our mouths instantly water with the scent of melted cheese and tomato sauce. Yet, these were no meat balls—these were crisply crusted risotto with a divinely moist, cheesy middle. The taste was reminiscent of hash brown potatoes, because of the starchy, onion-y, comforting flavor. Move over Grandma! Chef David needs room in my heart for this dish!

Next up, a Fennel-Spiced Seared Ahi paired with a lovely Desante Sauv Blanc, California 2006. One sip of this wine sent me immediately back to the Midwestern clover and grass fields of my youth. It paired perfectly with the spicy licorice and bright salt of the tuna, and the subtle sweetness of the heirloom watermelon: all a seasonal charm.

Chef David describes his Pan-Seared Diver Scallop as his personal take on “bacon and eggs.” The sweet seawater scallop sat under a tiny poached quail egg from local, small farmers, served with a parsnip puree created to taste of cream. What a whimsical dish!—full of that “bacon and eggs” flavor, but scaled to the likes of a tea party.

We finished the evening with the mixologists, who were turning out original, inventive concoctions that made my mouth spin. My favorite: Ginger Spice topped with handmade cardamom foam, turning the icy cold beverage into a peppery, five-star chai latte—my new, favorite cocktail. They also served a Sugar Mama, which should bring Carrie Bradshaw running from New York for a taste of this better-than-a-Cosmo pink, tart drink. The lounge also works with small bottlers to provide alcohol not found elsewhere. A straight taste of their vermouth hinted with sweet notes of chocolate, caramel and vanilla—unlike anything imaginable!

All the sophistication and dress-code aside, you shouldn’t fear over-scale pricing. Drinks run between $7-14 (and higher). While small plates start at $3, you could feed yourself a “meal”-size for $9+.