Remembering Opal Washington’s impact on food culture in Austin
When I was a newlywed in 1975 with almost nonexistent culinary skills, I loved reading the food and lifestyle articles in the Austin American-Statesman. One of my favorite columns was written by Travis County Negro Agricultural Extension agent Opal H. Washington.
Washington was born in Crockett in 1922 and graduated from Prairie View A&M in 1944 with a degree in home economics. During World War II, she was put in charge of war food assistance in Lee, Bastrop and McLennan counties.
She moved to Austin in 1952 to work for the Travis County Negro Extension Service, an agency that was established as a separate agricultural extension service specifically for the county’s African-American residents.
According to Statesman
Recently, my brother-in-law hoisted a watermelon that was the height and heft of a kindergartner onto my counter. Melonzilla was a regift of his neighbor’s regift, in a game of Not It: Edible Edition. He chose me as the final recipient because apparently I look like the sort of person who is super-excited to put down her rosé and cut up someone else’s fruit.
Now, if you’ve ever wondered who pays the price of a Tesla for a deli container of pre-sliced, weaklooking watermelon spears, it’s me. I loathe dissecting whole watermelons. Knife slips. Juice puddles. Shearing round food into square bites after I was told there would be no geometry this summer. None of it is for me. But there’s no pressure like hungry-relatives-pressure.
So I set aside my irritation, picked up my knife and whacked the massive melon into as few pieces as possible. Instead of wrestling the watermelon gator-style to remove the thick, heavy rind, I just left it in place. I plated the chunks, drizzled them with a quick dressing made from my favorite summer flavors (more on that in a minute) and presented the gang with “watermelon wedge salads.”
Readers, you can put away your melon baller, because I am onto something here. Serving the watermelon in large, rind-on hunks means even the most outrageous melon can be prepared in minutes. And the pretty presentation looks far more elegant than a bowl full of wilting, soupy fruit.
Fresh lime juice is the base of my dressing. Its bright citrus flavor complements, but doesn’t overwhelm, the watermelon’s natural sweetness. Two medium-size limes will give you all the juice you need. Skip the green plastic containers of already-squeezed lime juice, unless you happen to prefer the taste of preservatives. In fact, fresh limes will last up to a month in the crisper drawer of your refrigerator, so there’s no excuse for not keeping them around. When it’s time to extract the juice, let your limes come to room temperature, and roll them around on the countertop. Use a firm hand, as if you are kneading dough. This helps break up the fibers and lets you coax every last drop out of the green goodies. An inexpensive reamer juices the limes in a few seconds. You can also squeeze the lime halves around fork