Watermelon and spanspek are in high season, offering their sweet juices and luscious flesh to cool us down on summer’s most sweltering days. They’re one of the few treats bestowed by nature that needs no adorning; just slice and bite, and feel the chill descend on you as the day suddenly doesn’t seem quite as hot.

Both make good ice cream, sorbet, even lollies for the kids (okay and the grownups), but cast away the obvious view of these melons as being fit only for the dessert end of the meal or as a mid-afternoon munch next to the pool. Spanspek, famously, goes well with Parma and other ham. Watermelon, in recent years, is often paired with things such as feta cheese and also ham to make a light lunch or, in smaller form, a starter for a dinner party. But let’s cast the net wider and see what else we can do with watermelon and spanspek on the savoury front.

First though, a bit of research throws up some interesting tidbits about them. Watermelon began its known life as the sweet, cold canteen of the desert. Native to north-east Africa, they exist in more than a thousand varieties and go back 5,000 years. Made of more than 90% water, they’re the perfect source of liquid refreshment for a long journey, especially in hot climes. They were cultivated in the Nile Valley as early as the second millennium BC and their seeds have been found at ancient sites including Tutankhamun’s tomb. Would you believe watermelon is classed as a berry? Me neither. Once upon a time they were bitter, and have sweetened through selective breeding across cultures and countries to become the delight we enjoy today.

They’re not all red; they come in orange and yellow too, and the off-greenish white ones we have in South Africa in the variety we call makataan. But for purposes of this story, we’re talking about the red-centred watermelon.

Much as I adore watermelon, I love spanspek more. Called cantaloupe in many countries, or variations of the word, and often called rockmelon in Australia and New Zealand, its orange flesh has a honeyed, musky flavour like no other. In South Africa we have entirely our own name for it, and it famously (though not necessarily accurately) is associated with 19th century Cape governor Sir Harry Smith’s Spanish wife Juana who preferred cantaloupe for breakfast while Sir Harry had his bacon and eggs, so the staff started calling it “Spanish bacon” or Spaanse spek. Wikipedia puts a spoke in the old Cape Cart wheels of this story, however, claiming that a variation of the name spanspek “appears to predate the Smiths and date to 18th-century Dutch Suriname: J. van Donselaar wrote in 1770, ‘Spaansch-spek is the name for the form that grows in Suriname which, because of its thick skin and little flesh, is less consumed”. That doesn’t sound much like spanspek as we know it, and anyway, the Juana Smith story is much more fun.

I’ve been making chilled spanspek soup for more than 30 years, varying the recipe but more often using a hint of masala, often orange juice, and finishing it with a swirl of yoghurt and fresh herbs such as mint or coriander. But we can grab a spanspek when making other things too: a salsa, a salad, or it can be given some Moroccan spices and served alongside a steak. Fresh ginger and citrus enhance that honeyed deliciousness, as do bacon and ham, garlic and celery, red onion and radish.

Prosciutto e melone, or “melon and ham” on many an old South African restaurant menu back in the day, truly is as simple as draping slivers of prosciutto over a wedge of spanspek and serving it. But you can give it a grinding of black pepper, a scattering of coarse salt, and run up a dressing with a squeeze of citrus, a dash of extra virgin olive oil, some finely chopped herbs, and a hint of red wine vinegar to cut through the sweetness.

Pick n Pay’s extensive recipe collection includes one for creamy mozzarella, spanspek and fennel salad, while Woolies has one for roasted sweet potato, spanspek wedges and chimichurri. Cucumber is a nice companion for it too, such as a recipe I encountered for melon, cucumber and a toasted almond and coriander leaf salsa. Or grill wedges of spanspek basted with honey, lime juice and toasted cumin and fennel seeds, finished with a garnish of chopped fennel fronds.

Australia’s excellent taste.com.au recipe resource pairs watermelon variously with grilled chicken and mint, haloumi and avocado, lamb and coriander, and salmon with a Thai dressing.

I’ve seen recipes for watermelon “pizza” but that idea is just silly. Cutting them into wedges and putting stuff on top does not make them a pizza. But do it anyway (just call them wedges, please) as a cool summer party snack. Top them with bits of sliced pickles, fresh herbs, crumbled feta and a drizzle of balsamic vinegar. With any savoury watermelon or spanspek dish, end with a grinding of coarse salt and black pepper.

This week I made two melon dishes, one showing off watermelon, the other spanspek. The first was savoury, the second sweet. They’d be good served one after the other on a hot summer’s day or night. 

Watermelon salad wedges

1 small red onion, sliced and pickled

1 Tbsp toasted and crushed toasted Szechuan peppercorns

1 finely chopped red chilli, seeds removed

4 Tbsp crumbled feta

3 Tbsp balsamic vinegar

1 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil

Coarse pink sea salt

Mint

For the pickle:

¾ cup apple cider vinegar

¼ cup cold water

2 Tbsp honey

Chopped fresh mint for garnish

½ tsp sea salt

Heat all pickle ingredients in a saucepan and bring to a simmer. Slice the red onion thinly and put in a jar or bowl. Pour the pickling liquid over and let it stand for 30 minutes.

Mix the balsamic vinegar and olive oil together. Toast and crush the Szechuan peppercorns.

Slice watermelon into wedges about 2 cm thick. Keep the rind on. Pick out the pips that you can see.

Drizzle the balsamic and oil over all the wedges. Crumble the feta over. Drop slivers of pickled red onion here and there. Sprinkle the crushed Szechuan peppercorns and chilli over. Garnish with fresh mint and sprinkle coarse pink salt over.

Boozy spanspek fruit boats

1 whole spanspek, halved, seeds scooped out

250 g fresh strawberries

125 g fresh raspberries

½ cup Noble Late Harvest such as Vin de Constance

Halve the spanspek and scoop out the seeds from each half. Using a small sharp knife, and without cutting through the outer shell, cut wedges just through to the skin, stopping before the shell is punctured. This is for ease of serving the wedge portions.

Halve or quarter the strawberries but leave the raspberries whole.

In a bowl, steep the strawberries and raspberries in two thirds of the wine for half an hour.

Spoon the fruit into each “boat”, and pour the remaining wine over. DM/TGIFood

Tony Jackman is Galliova Food Champion 2021. His book, foodSTUFF, is available in the DM Shop. Buy it here. 

Follow Tony Jackman on Instagram @tony_jackman_cooks. Share your versions of his recipes with him on Instagram and he’ll see them and respond.

SUBSCRIBE to TGIFood here. Also visit the TGIFood platform, a repository of all of our food writing.