
The more I craft cocktails, the more I find myself going back to the classics. I'm often drawn to exploring what's new in the familiar. I tend to shy away from things like infusions (even though they can be fantastic), DIY kitchen counter ferments, concoctions with too many ingredients, or over-the-top cocktail presentations.
But really, how often can one mix up a mojito and still feel a sense of fulfillment? For me, the answer is: as many times as needed. A lot. A whole lot. As Blanche would put it. Recently, while working on cocktail slushies for a local microbrewery, I had to confront my long-standing love for small tweaks to the classic drinks. It's like going to buy a new piece of furniture for your home and somehow leaving with yet another bed for your dog (last time, a rattan chaise when I really needed a nightstand). I had to wonder: Is my cocktail repertoire turning into an endless list of not-so-adorable dog beds?
I knew it was my civic duty to make a frozen margarita at some point, but I kept resisting. This summer's been a tough one for me, for reasons outside my control, but also because of my own peculiar talent for not being a fully functional human being. (Imagine a sloth trying to keep up on an assembly line.) Watermelons, which I kept buying in the spirit of the season, were rotting from the inside, only to be tossed, and I was coming home from work drained, craving a drink. Oh, and I'm also terrible at staying hydrated.
Margaritas are my go-to cocktails. My friends, by now you know the basic formula for most of my cocktails: Avoiding waste + craving a drink + something familiar + a versatile moment equals, in this case, a watermelon margarita. 'This would make a killer slushy,' I thought as I enjoyed them. But was it too predictable? Too basic? Why did I even care? And then, my friend Carlin entered the picture.
Carlin once sent me a cassis jelly she made that was so amazing it made me tear up. She also casually told me that the new rug I bought from IKEA was 'just okay.' I adore her. So when I saw her post a frozen watermelon margarita she made for her own post-work relaxation, I knew that was the signal I needed. If Carlin, who seems to have a talent for creating magic in her home, had the same idea and was pleased with it, that was enough for me. Honestly, I hope everyone has a Carlin in their life.
There are a few ways to make this. You can go with my original, super-lazy, non-frozen method; or the slightly more involved frozen version. Both will be delicious, refreshing, almost hydrating, and packed with lycopene, which might even help your blood pressure, depending on which medical study you trust. I add a Tajin and salt rim because, well, it’s absolutely delicious, but it’s completely optional.
How to Make a Watermelon Margarita (The Lazy Girl Summer Edition)
3-4 pieces of ripe, non-mealy watermelon (about 1-inch cubes)
2 sugar cubes (or 3/4 oz simple syrup, though I prefer sugar cubes because it's easier)
1 oz fresh lime juice
2 oz tequila (I use blanco)
Muddle the watermelon and sugar cubes in a shaker, then add the remaining ingredients. Fill the shaker with ice and shake for about 6-8 seconds. Strain the mixture into a glass filled with fresh ice.
For the Tajin/salt rim, grab a small plate and pour the two ingredients in any ratio you like. Take a used lime half, rub it around the rim of your serving glass (before adding fresh ice), and dip it into the Tajin/salt blend. Twist the glass for a thicker coating. Then, fill the glass with ice and pour your margarita in.
How to Make a Watermelon Margarita (The Hot Girl Summer, Carlin-Approved Way)
Carlin suggests chopping up a very ripe watermelon (set the rind aside for a cordial) and freezing the pieces in advance. This is genius because it eliminates the need for ice, as the frozen watermelon will do the job of chilling and diluting the drink while giving it that perfect slushy texture.
4-5 frozen watermelon cubes
2 oz tequila
1 oz fresh lime juice
3/4 oz simple syrup
Combine all ingredients in a blender and blend until you reach your desired consistency. Pour into a (preferably chilled) glass and take a moment to appreciate life.
