Damn it! I wish I had toasted shredded coconut.

Honeydew is still my favorite melon, but Crenshaw isn’t far behind. It’s probably for that reason I was able to think about actually doing something with the Crenshaw I’d picked up, rather than just sitting down with a chilled half and a spoon; what tends to happen with any Honeydew I buy. Some chefs are put off by the whole farm-to-table concept exactly for this reason; you’re supposed to do something with the ingredients, but sometimes certain things are just so good that you can’t help but enjoy it as it is. I can understand and appreciate both sides, but whenever I buy fruit or something and just consume it as is, I can’t help but think of a moment in Toni Morrison’s Song of Solomon, which probably stuck with me because it was about food.

In the scene, Pilot is being observed by her nephew, Macon, as she peels and eats a hard boiled egg while still standing over the stove top. Macon then describes Pilot and her family as eating “like children.” Though I read the book in college, I still ponder on the meaning of this tiny simile. Are they like children because they eat so simply? Is it the similarity to foraging? Is the farm-to-table concept childlike for an ideal of enjoying berries straight from the vine?

Certainly, in many circles farm-to-table just means not “farm-to-truck-to-artificial ripening chamber-to-store-to-table,” so I don’t let myself worry about it too much. But I do continue to feel a nagging push to actually do something with what I buy. What matters though is the challenge of elevating it, rather than simply changing it. “Anything that is simple to make, is equally simple to fuck up.” I’m infrequently sure which I manage to accomplish, but I’ll never know unless I keep challenging myself.

So, I took my Crenshaw, and I did something with it.

I’ve been around the food part of the internet enough, for long enough, that I’ve seen the coconut and melon pairings. With this heat we’ve been having lately, I was more than happy to start there. I also happened to have rose petal jam on hand again, and a little dollop of that fit right in. Photographs were taken; bowls of delicious Crenshaw, soft and sweet, laced with coconut and rose, were eaten.

Then it occurred to me some chopped, salted peanuts would be a nice addition. They were, and the next night photographs were taken, and bowls of Crenshaw, soft and sweet, laced with coconut and rose, intermittently giving way to the crunch of peanut, were eaten.

Then it occurred to me that some toasted, shredded coconut would have really made the dish. But I didn’t have any shredded coconut. Or anymore melon.

Crenshaw with Coconut and Rose

• 1 Crenshaw melon
• 1 can coconut milk
• 1 Tbs sugar
• 1/8 tsp vanilla
• pinch salt
• salted peanuts, chopped
• shredded coconut, toasted
• Rose Petal Jam

Peel and dice the melon, or if you prefer, harvest the flesh with a melon baller. Chill in the refrigerator.

In a saucepan over medium low heat, combine the coconut milk, sugar, vanilla, and a pinch of salt. Stir until sugar is dissolved, and remove from heat. Transfer to another container or bowl to chill.

Just before you’re ready to serve, chop the peanuts and toast the coconut. Set aside.

To assemble, portion the melon into bowls. Ladle a few tablespoons of the chilled coconut mixture over the melon. Sprinkle with chopped peanuts and toasted coconut. Top with a small spoonful, about 1 tsp, of rose petal jam. Serve.