Melon-Berry Salad

Last day of school. I stood at the door of my classroom and the students filed out for the last time and I gave each of them their letter, sealed, and said: open this at home tonight. Some of them will open it immediately in the car. Some of them will put it in a drawer and find it when they are packing up rooms years from now. Both of those are right. The letter will be there when they need it.

Darius left last. He stood in the doorway after the others were gone and looked at me with the expression he has had since March, which is: a child who has learned to trust this room and is registering that the room is ending. I said: you are going to be great in fifth grade. He said: how do you know. I said: because I watched you this year and I know. He looked at his letter. He said: can I read it now. I said: yes, if you want. He stood in my doorway and read it. When he got to the third paragraph I saw him blink twice and look up at the ceiling and then look back down. He said: okay. I said: okay. He walked out. I sat down at my desk and cried for approximately four minutes and then cleaned up the classroom and turned off the lights and locked the door and started summer.

Ryan took me to dinner. Just us, Patty with the twins, the Italian place again because it is our place now, the place we go when something needs to be marked. We ordered the same pasta and a bottle of wine and he said: good year? I said: really good year. He said: Darius? I said: Darius. He raised his glass. We drank.

Summer in Chicago begins with the feeling of setting down something heavy and discovering you are still standing, and standing without the weight feels like floating briefly before you find your new balance. I am standing in June without a classroom and with a summer ahead of me and two toddlers who do not believe in sleeping past six. This is summer. Summer is good. I love summer.

The next morning I woke up at six because the twins don’t care about last days of anything, and instead of dreading it I thought: I get to cook whatever I want today. No packed lunches, no alarm after this one, no September on the horizon yet — just June, open and bright. I wanted something that looked like summer feels when it finally arrives in Chicago, which is colorful and a little excessive and completely worth it. Melon-berry salad. That’s the whole recipe. That’s the whole summer, right there in a bowl.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 15 min (plus 30 min chilling) | Servings: 6

Ingredients

3 cups cantaloupe, cubed into 1-inch pieces
3 cups seedless watermelon, cubed into 1-inch pieces
1 cup honeydew melon, cubed into 1-inch pieces
1 cup fresh strawberries, hulled and halved
1 cup fresh blueberries
1/2 cup fresh raspberries
2 tablespoons fresh lime juice (about 1 large lime)
1 tablespoon honey
1/4 cup fresh mint leaves, torn or thinly sliced
1 teaspoon lime zest

Instructions

Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together the lime juice, honey, and lime zest until the honey is fully dissolved. Set aside.
Combine the fruit. In a large serving bowl, gently combine the cantaloupe, watermelon, honeydew, strawberries, blueberries, and raspberries.
Dress and toss. Drizzle the honey-lime dressing over the fruit and fold gently with a large spoon until everything is lightly coated. Be careful not to crush the raspberries.
Add the mint. Scatter the torn mint leaves over the top and fold in gently just before serving, or use as a garnish.
Chill and serve. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes to let the flavors come together. Serve cold, straight from the bowl. Best eaten the day it’s made.

Nutrition (per serving)

Melon-Berry Salad — The First Thing I Made When Summer Started