Maybe it is just certain octogenarians I have run into, but most of them do two things: talk about their health, and talk about the weather. And now that I have moved to New York, a place that actually has weather and seasons, I find myself doing the same thing (at least the weather part). I mentioned before that it is HOT, but besides the heat there is the humidity, the sort of humidity that makes you want to run back indoors, to your small, air-conditioned apartment, peel off your sticky clothes, and take a cool shower. I’m from California, I mean: What is humidity anyways?

And so I have joined the ranks of those people, the one’s that talk ad nauseum about the weather, and to me, it is endlessly fascinating. We are mostly unpacked, a household’s worth of goods transplanted from California to New York. Newsprint packing has been scrubbed off pots and pans, baking sheets unearthed, knives carefully unwrapped, and what is the first thing that I “cook?” Watermelon salad, because it is so damn hot.

Now I did turn on the stove to make a sweet-tart balsamic reduction, but I am afraid dear readers that is where the cooking started and stopped. By simmering the balsamic vinegar on the stove, a deep, syrupy concoction is made, turning even the cheapest of condiments into a rich elixir that is meant to be savored. And that is it, some fresh, fragrant basil is torn into bite-sized pieces, cubes of crisp watermelon, a little salt to bring out the juice, a grinding of pepper, and there you have it.

The basil and watermelon are surprisingly similar, perfumey yet delicate, and the balsamic reduction mediates the salad with its pungency. It was perfect, light, summery, and crisp, just the remedy for this fragile, weather-weary transplant. Don’t get me wrong. I look forward to actually having seasons, but I will admit, it is going to take some getting used to. Maybe next summer, the heat won’t even affect me, and you may just be reading about some thick, hearty stew I have cooked in August… Somehow I doubt it.