My grandfather could pick out the perfect watermelon. The whole process seemed very animated to me. It always began with Sittu, my grandmother, stating it was his duty to go off to the farm stand and bring home the goods. I got to ride shotgun, which of course made me feel like a rock star driving through town in the big, shiny, yellow Cadillac.
There were many stops along the way, among them, my favorite; the Syrian -American club where Grandpa and his buddies played cards. The fellas would light up when I came bopping in with Grandpa, and they treated me to story after story! The wisdom of their experiences, their fortitude, their sense of honor made me adore these men. There sure was plenty of laughter going on as well, guess I brought out their sense of humor too.
I was not allowed to tell my parents, or Sittu we stopped at the club, after all, its a men’s only card game place. While at the farm stand, Grandpa would pick out some little special thing he thought would make Sittu smile. Oh and the watermelon, it always seemed to be the sweetest one of the bunch, of course.
Here’s the recipe for Watermelon Fizz, go on add something sparkling to your day;
4 cups watermelon, puree, strain, place in ice cube trays
1 lime, juiced
6 ounces of lemonade
2 ounces of fizzy ( ginger ale, or sprite)