Sherbet Watermelon

Fourth of July. I smoked ribs — St. Louis cut, rubbed with brown sugar, paprika, garlic powder, onion powder, cayenne, salt, and black pepper, smoked over hickory at two-twenty-five for five hours, then wrapped in foil with apple cider vinegar and honey for another two, then unwrapped and glazed with a bourbon sauce I've been tinkering with since April. The sauce is bourbon, ketchup, brown sugar, apple cider vinegar, Worcestershire, and a little hot sauce, simmered until it thickens. Connie says the sauce is my best work. I'm not sure that's a compliment about the sauce or an insult about everything else, but I'll take it.

Travis and Jolene came over. They brought watermelon and sparklers and the specific energy of newlyweds who are still figuring out whose family traditions win, which is a negotiation that takes approximately forty years and nobody actually wins. Amber couldn't make it — working a holiday shift at UK Hospital because holidays don't mean much to sick children and the nurses who care for them. She called and I could hear the ward behind her, beeping and voices, and I told her we'd save her a plate. We always save her a plate.

Clay didn't come. He said he wasn't feeling up to it, which I understood because fireworks and combat veterans are not a combination that promotes relaxation. The neighborhood was shooting off mortars by eight o'clock and every boom rattled the windows and I thought about Clay in his apartment alone with the noise and I wanted to drive over but Connie said give him space. She's usually right about Clay. She's usually right about most things, which is inconvenient for a man who likes to think he has some expertise in his own family.

After Travis and Jolene left I sat on the back porch with the last of the bourbon — the drinking kind, not the sauce kind — and listened to the fireworks going off across Lexington and thought about independence. The word means something different when you've spent twenty years underground doing what your father did because his father did it because there was nothing else to do. Independence isn't fireworks. It's options. It's the luxury of choosing, and I didn't have it at eighteen and I'm not sure I have it at fifty-three but my children have more of it than I did, and that's the math that matters. That's the whole American project, if you strip away the noise.

Travis and Jolene walked in with that watermelon like it was the most natural thing in the world, and honestly it was — it’s what you bring to a cookout in July in Kentucky, and no amount of bourbon sauce or five-hour smoke rings is going to upstage a cold slice of watermelon on a ninety-degree evening. After the night wound down and I sat on the porch thinking about Clay and fireworks and everything that word “independence” carries, I found myself wishing I’d done something with that watermelon beyond slicing it on the picnic table. This sherbet watermelon is what I’ll make next year — something festive enough for sparklers, cool enough for the heat, and simple enough that the food doesn’t compete with everything else going on.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 4 hours 20 minutes (includes freezing) | Servings: 10

Ingredients

1 small seedless watermelon (about 10 pounds)
1/2 gallon raspberry or lime sherbet, slightly softened
1/3 cup mini chocolate chips (optional, for “seeds”)
Whipped cream, for serving (optional)

Instructions

Hollow the watermelon. Slice the watermelon in half lengthwise. Use a large spoon or melon baller to scoop out the flesh, leaving about a 1-inch thick rind shell. Reserve the scooped watermelon for another use or eat as-is.
Line and freeze the shell. Pat the inside of each watermelon half dry with paper towels. Place the hollowed halves cut-side up on a rimmed baking sheet and freeze for 30 minutes until the rind is firm and cold.
Fill with sherbet. Remove the shells from the freezer. Working quickly, pack the softened sherbet firmly into each half, mounding it slightly above the rim. Smooth the top with a spatula. Scatter mini chocolate chips over the sherbet if using, pressing them in lightly to resemble watermelon seeds.
Freeze until firm. Return the filled halves to the freezer and freeze for at least 4 hours, or overnight, until the sherbet is completely solid.
Slice and serve. Remove from the freezer 5 minutes before serving. Using a large sharp knife, slice each half into wedges about 1 to 1 1/2 inches thick, cutting through both the sherbet and the rind. Arrange on a platter and serve immediately, with whipped cream if desired.

Nutrition (per serving)

Sherbet Watermelon — Travis and Jolene Brought the Best Part