Then there was the time \u2013 the following night, actually \u2013 that we took a cab home from a cocktail party, again in the rain. This may be impossible, but I could swear \u2013 really, swear<\/span> \u2013 that the body of the vehicle was not attached to its wheels. It was like riding in a sailboat on the windiest day of the year \u2013 only instead of whitecaps, we had potholes. By the time we pulled up at home, I was so motion-sick that all I could do was sit quietly and rub my stomach, like stroking an old dog, in the hopes that it would lie down and sleep.<\/p>\n Oh, May. You\u2019re so fickle, and such a free spirit. I\u2019ve always liked June better. It\u2019s got such a sweet name, so lady-like and dainty. It\u2019s all pin curls<\/a> and sundresses. It has<\/span> to be better than this. Summer doesn\u2019t usually arrive in Seattle until the Fourth of July or so, but still, I believe in June. I believe in June, because it means melons.<\/p>\n Lately, we\u2019ve been eating them like they were going out of style. Local specimens won\u2019t be ripe for at least a month, mind you, but the markets are full of them anyway, in all shades and sizes. Last week we went through two watermelons, dense and sweet, each no bigger than a child\u2019s head. Over the weekend, I brought home a cantaloupe. It smelled like picnics and honey and warm air, and when I set it on the counter to soften a bit, it sent up a cloud of fragrance as thick as fog. It reminded me of something I\u2019d read in Nigel Slater\u2019s Kitchen Diaries<\/span> last winter, when melon season was long past. There was one page in particular that I folded down, a recipe for a better day, a hot summer day, a salad of ripe melon and cured meat with fresh mozzarella and arugula.<\/p>\n Now, granted, it\u2019s not hot quite<\/i> yet, but it is summer, sort of, and when a melon announces its readiness, I sit up and listen.<\/p>\n Most days, I would argue that prosciutto and melon, put together, are hard to improve upon, but Nigel Slater knows his business. Sure enough, there\u2019s no deal that can\u2019t be sweetened with the clean, milky chew of fresh mozzarella and the slow burn of young arugula. Mr. Slater\u2019s original recipe yields a tossed salad, but for the sake of prettiness \u2013 and so as not to bruise the fruit and greens \u2013 I made mine a composed version, positioned around the plate like numbers on a clock. First came the melon, coarsely cubed; then thick slices of cheese; a pile of prosciutto torn into rags; and a heap of peppery greens. Each got a drizzle or douse of olive oil and lemon, and some got a little of both. It was hardly sixty degrees that day, but at our white table by the window, for a half hour or so, it felt like midsummer. I highly recommend it.<\/p>\n Early Summer Composed Salad<\/span> This salad is only as good as its individual components, so make sure your ingredients are as good as possible. (I know I\u2019ve said that before, but I mean it.) The melon, especially, should be a great one – sweet and fragrant, the kind that makes you stop and inhale, sighing a little, each time you walk past. I like to let mine sit on the kitchen counter until I\u2019m sure it\u2019s plenty ripe, and then I stick it in the fridge for a few hours before serving. (I like most fruits best when they\u2019re chilled, especially melons.) The olive oil, too, should be of excellent quality. My current favorite is this one<\/a>, made in Sacramento. Tea<\/a> introduced me to it, and as she says, it\u2019s almost more like olive juice<\/span> than it is like olive oil<\/span>. (That\u2019s a good thing, in case you\u2019re wondering.) It\u2019s a beautiful shade of yellowy green, thick and cloudy and wonderfully grassy. It makes everything it touches stand up and sing.<\/p>\n The quantities below are approximate and make a light Sunday lunch or supper for two people. For a vegetarian alternative, replace the prosciutto with ribbons of shaved Parmigiano Reggiano. Brandon gives it his seal of approval.<\/p>\n \u00bd of a small ripe cantaloupe, seeds and rind removed, cut into rough 1-inch chunks Divide the melon, prosciutto, and mozzarella between two plates, arranging each item in its own little pile. Set aside.<\/p>\n Put the arugula in a medium bowl. In a small cup, whisk together 1 Tbsp. olive oil, 1 tsp. lemon juice, and a pinch of salt. Drizzle the dressing over the arugula, and, using your hands, toss very gently. (Arugula bruises ridiculously easily. It\u2019ll bruise if you even look at it wrong.) Put a handful of arugula on each plate, alongside the melon, prosciutto, and mozzarella.<\/p>\n Sprinkle a bit of salt and pepper over the mozzarella. Splash a bit of lemon juice over the melon. Drizzle the melon and mozzarella with olive oil. Sprinkle a bit of parsley over the plates, if you like. Serve, with plenty of crusty bread.<\/p>\n Yield: 2 servings<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Others may argue, but I think May is the toughest month. It\u2019s the biggest tease, the old bait-and-switch. Over most of North America, things are looking pretty nice. The flowers are in bloom; the weather is fine; bare feet and legs are back in fashion. But Seattle, however, isn\u2019t quite on the bandwagon. It\u2019s sort of hanging from the tailgate, and by only one hand. Sure, the trees are full and the flowers are open, and most of us are driving with the windows down. But this city is tricky. It blows hot and cold. One day, it\u2019s 82 degrees and sunny, and the next, it\u2019s 58 with flood warnings. You know, really, winter in Seattle is no sweat. It…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n![\"\"](\"http:\/\/orangette.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/09\/6989e-springmelonsalad021-11.jpg?w=300\")
<\/a><\/p>\n
Inspired by Nigel Slater and his Kitchen Diaries<\/span><\/p>\n
A few thin slices of prosciutto, torn into wide strips
1 ball of fresh mozzarella, cut into six slices
About 4 ounces baby arugula
1 Tbsp. olive oil, plus more for serving
1 tsp. fresh lemon juice, plus more for serving
Crunchy salt, such as Maldon or fleur de sel<\/span>
Freshly ground pepper
A small handful of Italian parsley leaves (optional)<\/p>\n