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Watermelon Pie -- The Sweetest Prize from Jack's Blue-Ribbon Melon

Jack's watermelon is ready. Ten-point-three inches in diameter, deep green with pale stripes, heavy in the hand, and when Jack thumped it — the way Roger taught him, listen don't look — the sound was deep and hollow, the sound of a melon that's full of sugar and water and the patient attention of a boy who has been measuring and watering and shading this fruit since April. Marcus's melon is nine-point-seven inches. Jack wins. The victory speech was brief and gracious: "Good growing season for both of us. We'll do it again next year." The sportsmanship of a farmer's great-grandson. Roger would be proud. I'm proud enough for both of us.

We cut the watermelon on the back porch. Jack made the first cut — ceremonial, deliberate, the knife sliding through the rind with a crack that sounded like summer itself splitting open. The flesh was red and dripping and perfect. We ate it with our hands, juice running down our arms, seeds spit into the garden where they'll probably grow next year uninvited. Kevin ate two slices. Emma ate one slice and declared it "aesthetically superior" to store-bought watermelon, which is the highest compliment Emma gives to anything — that it looks good. Jack ate three slices and said nothing because the watermelon spoke for itself and Jack is a boy who lets his work do the talking.

Marcus came over to taste the winning melon. He was gracious in defeat, which is to say he tasted it and said, "Mine would have been sweeter," which is not gracious at all but is exactly right for an eight-year-old in a watermelon competition and I loved him for it. They're already planning next year. Bigger mound. More compost. Different variety. The arms race escalates.

I made a watermelon salad for dinner — cubed watermelon, feta cheese, mint, a drizzle of balsamic. A recipe I found online that seemed too simple to work and too fancy for a farm girl's kitchen, but the combination of sweet melon and salty cheese and sharp mint was revelatory. Kevin said, "This is a salad?" I said, "It's a salad." He said, "It has cheese on fruit." I said, "Yes." He ate the whole bowl. The man who questioned cheese on fruit ate the whole bowl. Evolution happens one bite at a time.

After Jack’s melon had already made its ceremonial debut on the back porch — cut open, eaten with our hands, seeds flung into the garden — there was still enough left to do something a little more deliberate with it. The watermelon salad was a revelation, sure, but I wanted a proper send-off for a fruit that had been measured and watered and worried over since April. A Watermelon Pie felt exactly right: something cool and a little festive, something that honored how much summer we had packed into a single melon and gave Jack a reason to feel proud all over again at the dinner table.

Watermelon Pie

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 4 hrs 20 min (includes chilling) | Servings: 8

Ingredients

  • 5 cups seedless watermelon, cubed (about 1/2 small watermelon)
  • 1 package (3 oz) watermelon or strawberry flavored gelatin
  • 1/4 cup sugar
  • 2 tablespoons cornstarch
  • 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
  • 1 cup whipped topping, plus more for serving
  • 1 pre-made graham cracker crust (9-inch)
  • Fresh mint leaves, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

  1. Puree the watermelon. Place the cubed watermelon in a blender or food processor and blend until smooth. Measure out 2 1/2 cups of the puree and set aside. (Drink any extra — no sense wasting it.)
  2. Cook the filling. In a medium saucepan, whisk together the gelatin, sugar, and cornstarch. Stir in the watermelon puree and lemon juice until combined. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until the mixture comes to a full boil and thickens slightly, about 5–7 minutes.
  3. Cool the mixture. Remove from heat and pour the filling into a large bowl. Let it cool to room temperature, about 30 minutes. Do not skip this step — adding warm filling to whipped topping will deflate it.
  4. Fold in whipped topping. Once cooled, gently fold in 1 cup of whipped topping until smooth and evenly combined. The filling should be light pink and creamy.
  5. Fill the crust. Pour the filling into the prepared graham cracker crust and smooth the top with a spatula.
  6. Chill until set. Refrigerate for at least 4 hours, or overnight, until the pie is firm enough to slice cleanly.
  7. Serve. Slice and serve cold, topped with a dollop of whipped topping and a few fresh mint leaves if desired.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 210 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 36g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 160mg

Diane Holloway
About the cook who shared this
Diane Holloway
Week 175 of Diane’s 30-year story · Des Moines, Iowa
Diane is a forty-six-year-old insurance adjuster in Des Moines who grew up on a four-hundred-acre farm that her family had worked since 1908. When commodity prices crashed and the bank came calling, the Webers lost the farm — four generations of heritage sold at auction. Diane left with her mother's casserole recipes and a cast iron skillet and rebuilt her life in the city. She cooks Midwest comfort food because it tastes like home, even when home doesn't exist anymore.

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