Sunday, August 03, 2008

Black velvet in that slow Southern style

One of the few joys of a late-summer pregnancy in the Deep South? Fresh local watermelon, ripe and chilled.

I've eaten three-quarters of the melon all by myself, and it wasn't a small melon. I eat it till I'm stuffed, and I would go back for another chunk if I had anywhere left to put it. It's out of control.

2 comments:

Stacey said...

Three words. Nom. Nom. Nom.

Andrew said...

Three more words: deep fried watermelon