MELON, RICOTTA AND SNAP PEA SALAD WITH GREEN APPLE AND CHILES

It’s rained a lot the last few weeks, and the only upside of that is forced incubation (AC! movies! baking!) and juicer melons. Cantaloupe, or muskmelon as my mom called it, and any such variety like French Cavaillon melon—are right up there for me with watermelon (and if you know me at all, you know watermelon always tops my charts).

András has been working long days all of July, and Greta has been invited on some outdoor play dates with friends in our Covid pod, leaving me and Mátyás to spend copious amounts of solo time together. After 6,972 hours at home alone, I have to keep reinventing things to keep it special—for me, and for him. Mátyás is not a good solo player, so it’s hard to find space to garden, create, cook, shoot and style on my own—things I crave—unless I give him a cartoon. So several days this week I did exactly that. It’s amazing what a half hour in the garden with a melon, a handful of green things and a single slab of cracked limestone that transports me to Italy, or Hungary—can do for the soul.

The results of this creative burst—this salad above—turned out to be DELICIOUS, as in: bonkers repeatable and so, so easy. I think it’s mighty pretty too—especially for something that came together in the 5 or so minutes between taking my ingredients out to the yard and hearing a giant crackle in the sky. I’d barely emerged from the pea jungle in the garden and drizzled on the last bits of oil on the plate, when the sky opened up, littering fat juicy drops all round me. It felt so nice (and food photos are always more beautiful when you’re outrunning a rainstorm, and don’t have time to overthink it).

After I grabbed a few shots, I took the plate inside, lit a candle and made me and Màtyàs a cocktail of sparkling water and raspberry shrub (recipe here), served in stemmed glasses. Our own little date night. It turned out to be just what we both needed.

As for the salad, this one comes together effortlessly, but here are some notes not to miss. You want the smaller, super crispy green apples you might find in an organic section or specialty market—the crisp tang here is what really brings this together. Make sure your snap peas are super fresh (dunk them in a bowl of ice water while you slice everything if they’re not). Next, spring for the good ricotta—you want something as close to handmade here; you can often find housemaid ricotta in upscale grocers and cheese shops, and of course Italian delis. Finally: I’m a more is more kind of gal when it comes to salad. On this one, the more cracked pepper and oil I added, the better it got—and that final drizzle of Chile oil, if it’s heat you like, knocks this out of the park.

RECIPE BELOW