I never thought I’d be the person who says this, but I think I fell in love with a soup made of watermelon. Yeah, that juicy red thing you chomp on using a straw at summer parties. But this isn’t just blending fruit—it’s an act of rebellion against hot kitchen days. No simmering, no roasting. Just ripened watermelon, a splash of cucumber, a sprinkle of salt, and a squeeze of lime. It smells like a garden after rain—fresh, clean, slightly grassy, with that sweet watermelon aroma lingering. It’s weirdly soothing, like the cold of a broken air conditioner on your neck. I mean, who says gazpacho has to be about tomatoes? Sometimes, you want something that cools your brain as much as your tongue. It’s the kind of thing you make when you want to screw around with the usual summer recipes and just… chill. Literally.

Watermelon Cucumber Gazpacho
Ingredients
Equipment
Method
- Use a knife to cut the watermelon into large chunks and peel and chop the cucumber into smaller pieces. Arrange the ingredients on a cutting board with visible, fresh-cut surfaces.4 cups ripe watermelon, cubed
- Add the watermelon chunks and chopped cucumber into a blender jar. Pour in the lime juice and sprinkle the salt over the ingredients.4 cups ripe watermelon, cubed
- Secure the lid on the blender and blend on high speed until the mixture is completely smooth and has a vibrant pinkish-red color. This should take about 30-60 seconds, and you should see no solids remaining.
- Open the blender and check the consistency. The soup should be silky and uniform, with a bright hue. Taste and adjust salt or lime juice if needed.
- Pour the gazpacho into serving bowls or glasses. Chill in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes before serving for optimal refreshment and flavor melding.
- Serve the chilled watermelon cucumber gazpacho in individual bowls, garnished with small cucumber slices or fresh herbs if desired. Enjoy immediately with a spoon or straw for a cool, refreshing experience.
Some days, I think I just want food that doesn’t ask for effort. Watermelon gazpacho pretty much agrees. It’s funny how a simple mix of ingredients can make you forget the heat outside. No fancy tricks, no culinary gymnastics—just a bowl full of summer’s best leftovers. I’ve made this more times than I care to admit, usually when I can’t be bothered to cook. It’s refreshing in the way you remember as a kid, not because it’s nostalgic, but because it feels like a little rebellion—like sneaking an extra slice of watermelon past your parents. Anyway, maybe I’ll add a little goat cheese next time. Or basil. Or both. Let’s see what the watermelon feels like tomorrow.