How to Make Aguas Frescas

Jesse turns twenty-nine this year — wait, I turned twenty-nine last July, which means I am moving through my twenty-ninth year. Let me try that again. I am twenty-nine, I have been twenty-nine since July, I will be thirty in July, and somehow thirty is closer than I thought. This is not a mid-life reflection. This is just something I noticed while watching Kai at the park Saturday, watching him run toward the swings with his arms out like wings, watching him be completely and specifically himself in his specific three-year-old body, and thinking: I was that specific once, and now I am this, and the thing I am now is a thirty-year-old, almost, and I am not sure when that happened.

Spring is properly underway now. The redbuds are blooming along the river roads — that specific Oklahoma purple-pink that shows up for two weeks and then is gone, and every year I mean to look at it more and every year I look at it through the truck window while driving somewhere. I made a note this week to take Kai to a road where the redbuds are thick and just stop and look at them. He is old enough to remember something like that. Maybe.

I made the nixtamalized corn version of sofkee this week. I had finally sourced dried slaked lime — calcium hydroxide, not lime fruit — from the Mexican grocery, which is what you use instead of wood ash lye for home nixtamalization. I soaked the dried flint corn in the lime solution overnight, rinsed it well, and cooked it down for hours. The result was demonstrably different from my first attempt: the corn had more complexity, a slightly mineral depth underneath the sweetness, and it thickened to a better consistency. Hannah tasted it and said it was good, and she said it carefully, the way she says things she means. Not close. Good.

I am going to make it again in two weeks and see if good becomes right. That is always the next step.

The sofkee is still a work in progress — good, Hannah said, and I am holding onto that word until right shows up in two weeks. But while I wait and adjust, spring keeps moving, and there is something about this particular window — the redbuds up, Kai flying toward the swings, the Mexican grocery still in my recent history from the calcium hydroxide run — that made me want another drink made with care and real ingredients. Aguas frescas are that for me right now: fresh fruit, water, a little sweetness, nothing hidden. The process is short and the result is honest, and that feels like the right companion to the slower, older work happening on the stove.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 15 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

4 cups fresh fruit, cut into chunks (watermelon, cantaloupe, strawberry, or cucumber work well)
4 cups cold water, divided
3 tablespoons granulated sugar, or to taste
2 tablespoons fresh lime juice (about 1 lime)
Pinch of salt
Ice, for serving
Fresh mint or sliced fruit, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

Blend the fruit. Add the fresh fruit chunks and 2 cups of the cold water to a blender. Blend on high until completely smooth, about 60 seconds.
Sweeten and strain. Add the sugar, lime juice, and pinch of salt to the blender and pulse to combine. Pour the mixture through a fine-mesh strainer into a large pitcher, pressing gently with a spoon to extract as much liquid as possible. Discard the solids.
Dilute and taste. Stir in the remaining 2 cups of cold water. Taste and adjust sugar or lime juice as needed — the balance will depend on how sweet your fruit is.
Chill and serve. Refrigerate for at least 10 minutes if time allows, or pour immediately over tall glasses filled with ice. Garnish with mint or extra fruit slices if desired.

Nutrition (per serving)

How to Make Aguas Frescas — A Drink Made with Intention, Like the Sofkee I’m Still Chasing