I love football and I love food, which means I’m a huge fan of “the big football championship game with the name I can’t use because it’s a closely guarded trademark.” To help prepare for this year’s unofficial national holiday on February 5, I’ll post a different “Super Sunday” watermelon recipe here on the blog each Friday before the big game.

Our first Super Sunday watermelon recipe is one we’ve posted in the past, but it’s deep fried, and that’s always a good thing on game day, which is why we’re posting it again.

DEEP-FRIED WATERMELON

INGREDIENTS

1 seedless watermelon (6 to 8 pounds)
3 cups vegetable or canola oil for deep frying
1/2 cup cornstarch (corn flour)
2 egg whites, beaten
2 teaspoons water
3/4 cup flour
Powdered sugar for garnish

DIRECTIONS

Cut watermelon in half lengthwise. Cut each half in two again lengthwise, leaving a total of four long triangular-shaped wedges. Remove the rinds, cut into one-inch thick slices, then cut the flesh into about one-inch triangles. (Basically, just cut the watermelon up into one-inch square pieces.)

Heat oil to 350 degrees in a deep fryer. You can also use a wok if you don’t have a fryer.

Whisk cornstarch with egg whites and water until combined. Dredge watermelon chunks in the flour, then coat with the cornstarch batter. Deep fry in batches (leaving enough room in between pieces for them to properly brown) until watermelon chunks are golden.

Remove from oil and drain well. Sprinkle deep-fried watermelon with a dusting of powdered confectioners’ sugar. Serve immediately while still crispy and hot. I’m just guessing here, but BE CAREFUL! Because watermelon is 92 percent water, these little morsels of goodness might be very hot inside, so proceed with caution!

I golf, but I wouldn’t call myself a “golfer.” In other words, I own some golf clubs and I sometimes take those golf clubs to a golf course and use them to hit a tiny white ball around the course for three hours. If nothing else, it’s good exercise and it gives me a chance to do all the cursing and swearing that I’m not allowed to do at home.

That’s where this month’s prize comes in. It’s the Bella Swarovski crystal golf ball marker in the form of a juicy, succulent watermelon.

For those who don’t know, “golfers” (i.e., people who adhere to the strict rules of the sport), sometimes have to pick up their golf ball – usually when it’s close to the hole – to clear a path for another golfer’s putt. When golfers move their ball, they use a golf ball marker to remember its location. I don’t own a golf ball marker (I used to, but I lost it when I threw my golf bag into a pond), so I usually just use a penny or tiny stick or some other object to mark my golf ball’s location.

Like many golf ball markers, this one clips to the brim of your hat. It’s sort of like golfing jewelry that way. I’ll choose one comment at random from all the comments left on the blog this month to receive this prize. Golf clubs and swearing lessons not included.

I thought long and hard about writing another New Year’s resolution entry and flip-flopped on the topic until this very morning. You see, I don’t have the best track record when it comes to New Year’s resolutions, a fact that many longtime What About Watermelon readers already know.

I have no problem making resolutions, mind you. In fact, I’m the best New Year’s resolution maker on my street (and probably in my entire neighborhood). It’s the keeping of the resolution that I struggle with so mightily. That’s all going to change this year, because instead of making 27 different self-improvement promises, I’m making only one:

This year, I resolve to finally, once and for all, fulfill my lifelong dream of being a contestant in a watermelon seed-spitting contest.

I realize I’ve resolved to accomplish this dream in the past and failed at it, but the reason for my failure was pretty simple: There were no watermelon seed-spitting contests for me to enter.

To fix that, my 2012 resolution includes the much larger task of organizing a seed spitting contest. (Yes, I’m going to be a contestant in my own contest. It’s a little unorthodox, but we’re talking about a lifelong dream here, so let’s not get bogged down with formalities.)

I’ll chronicle the process of creating my own seed-spitting contest with a series of monthly entries here on the blog. That process includes finding a venue (I’ve got a few local county fairs in mind), pitching the idea to those in charge, promoting the contest, securing sponsors and prizes, and figuring out all the details that go into executing a successful watermelon seed-spitting contest.

Of course, amidst all that hoopla and planning, I’ll be training and practicing for my own run at the watermelon seed-spitting title. I’ll keep you updated on that process as well.

Wish me luck … it’s going to be a busy year!

How busy were the holidays for me? I’m still catching my breath and cleaning up wrapping paper, if that’s any indication. Also, I still haven’t taken down our Christmas tree. That’s saying a lot because, in most years, the tree is usually gone before dinner on the 26th.

But it’s a good kind of busy, I guess, and we still have one holiday left – New Years. Now that we’re proud parents, our New Year celebration usually involves trying to stay awake long enough to watch the ball drop on TV and hoping our raucous game of Scrabble doesn’t wake the little one.

Some of you, however, might have more adventurous plans for ringing in the New Year, which brings me to the focus of this blog entry. Did you know that watermelon has been featured on multiple lists as one of the best “hangover foods.” Those foods are, of course, the best meals to eat the morning after a particularly “busy” night on the town.

According to the Times of India, which ranked watermelon at the top of its hangover cures list, the magical melon works because it delivers two key components – water and nutrients – both of which your body needs after you’ve had one too many drinks.

Of course, the BEST cure for a hangover is not to over indulge in the first place, but if you’re going to have a few drinks, it might be a good idea to make sure you have some watermelon in the refrigerator for breakfast the next morning.

I was going to write a whole entry filled with holiday cheer, but I think this pretty awesome watermelon carving says it all.

My mother-in-law hates me a little bit right now because not too long ago I got the opportunity to meet the “Queen of Southern Cuisine” and Food Network megastar, Mrs. Paula Deen, who was in town for a charity event. My meet-and-greet with her definitely made my mother-in-law jealous (she’s a huge Paula fan).

I wanted to feature one of Paula’s best watermelon recipes today, but I soon discovered that narrowing the list of her watermelon creations down to just one would be a challenge. Instead, I’m featuring several recipes (or links to the recipes), which you can drool over below. Enjoy!

• Paula’s Easy Watermelon Dessert – It’s basically watermelon cubes drizzled with a sweet and salty pineapple juice mixture. If it sounds incredible, that’s because it is.

• Watermelon Salad with Mint Leaves – In this recipe, Paula takes the classic watermelon-and-feta cheese combo to a whole new level.

• Watermelon punch – This is sort of like the “Easy Watermelon Dessert” above, only in beverage form. In other words, it’s a tall glass of “awesome” while you relax with friends, family…or peacefully by yourself.

In the spirit of the holidays, I tried to find a video of a reindeer eating a watermelon, but I couldn’t. I was, however, able to track down footage of a white-tailed deer eating watermelon, which will have to do as the next best thing, I guess.

The deer in the video below seems to love watermelon, but like the monkey, elephant, squirrel, turtle, cat and guinea pigs I’ve posted so far this year, I can’t really blame her. Imagine being a deer and stumbling upon a treat like this. Your whole life, all you eat is deer food (I really have no idea what deer eat) and then, out of nowhere, you discover a wedge of sweet, juicy, delicious watermelon perched atop a magical stump. Ahh, the magic stump. Life was pretty good for a certain deer on that special day.

I stumbled across the photo above showing some vintage watermelon fun on Flickr. It’s an image simply titled “At the Palisades” and the person who posted it described it as a photo “of my husband’s family although I have little idea of whom in particular.”

The date of the image isn’t specified, but using my virtually nonexistent sense of fashion history, I’d date the photo somewhere in the late 1920s – possibly mid-September of 1928. The “Palisades” in the photo’s title is probably a reference to the beach in Santa Monica, CA although there was a Palisades beach in New Jersey then, too.

What struck me as interesting about the photo, aside from the fact that everyone was under strict orders to hold up their watermelon for the snapshot, was the seemingly formal dress code for beachgoers back in the early 20th century. Certainly more formal than on today’s beaches, that’s for sure.

As far as unusual holiday traditions go, this time of year probably has more than all of the other holidays combined. What would you expect from an occasion which asks you to cut down a tree, drag it into your house, drape in lights and gaudy decorations and place wrapped gifts under it? Pretty strange but, then again, that’s part of what makes the holiday so special.

One of the relatively normal traditions that I always looked forward to at my house when I was growing up, and one that I plan to carry over into my own family, was the ceremonial “Dancing with the Watermelon” each Christmas Eve eve. (That’s right, Christmas Eve eve.) It was followed, of course, by the “Chopping and Eating of the Watermelon” the following day, which is pretty self-explanatory. Both events have been observed in my family for decades.

For the Dancing with the Watermelon on December 23, the children of the household would gather in the center of the living room around the largest watermelon we could find at the local market. When all the children are assembled, the adults of the household stand around them while wearing Santa Claus beards and clap and whistle that family’s traditional “Watermelon Dance” song. The song can be whatever you’d like. In my house, it was “La Bamba” by Ritchie Valens until I was about 10 years old, when we changed it to Michael Jackson’s “Billie Jean.”

While the adults are clapping and whistling, the children take turns showing off their best dance moves around the watermelon. (I learned to moonwalk soon after my family’s “Billie Jean” era started.) The tradition works better in families with lots of kids, because until my brothers were old enough to learn some steps, it was kind of awkward being the only kid dancing with the watermelon.

My family isn’t alone in practicing this annual ritual. It’s really popular in Sweden, which is where my mom’s family is from. According to legend, some Swedish children were at the market one day during the holiday season, bemoaning the fact that they couldn’t afford to buy a gift for their parents. Just then, an old, bearded man appeared out of nowhere, and sold them some “magic watermelon seeds” for just two pence (or whatever Swedish money is called).

The old man promised that if they planted the seeds on the morning of December 23, a giant watermelon would have grown by that evening. The children, believing just about anything at that age, agreed to follow the instruction and, sure enough, the seeds produced a gigantic watermelon. The parents loved the gift, of course, and the family clapped and danced around the watermelon all night to celebrate the children’s thoughtfulness.

So there you have it – the Dancing with the Watermelon. I’m not sure yet which song my wife and I will choose as our family’s tune this year (and for the foreseeable future). I’m leaning toward “Poker Face” by Lady Gaga, only because it’s a fun song to clap and dance to. Since our daughter is barely able to walk, I don’t expect much dancing to take place. Either way, I’ll probably end up moonwalking at some point during the night.

The other day my wife and I were talking about holiday traditions we can carry over from our childhoods into our new family and I mentioned my family’s tradition of putting an orange in the toe of our stockings every year (among many other odds and ends). The tradition made me realize that the orange really lucked out as the fruit-of-choice for goofy stuff to put in a stocking. After all, if watermelon is red, green, and white – the three colors of the holiday season – shouldn’t it have a more prominent place in the holiday?

I’m not suggesting watermelons in stockings – that’d need a pretty big sock – but if you take the time to learn about the origins of the orange as a gift, it’s actually kind of weird (something about St. Nicholas and balls of gold and three sisters who were too poor to marry). In this day and age, when people wear hideous sweaters in public simply because they’re red, green and white, shouldn’t a delicious fruit with the same color scheme have a little more representation during the season?

As far as I know, the watermelon is the only fruit on the planet that’s red, green and white, yet it somehow got snubbed as a holiday staple. Sure, it’s probably because winter is the “off season” for watermelon, but that’s also true of many other fruits … like oranges.

I’ve been around long enough to understand that weird holiday traditions aren’t just handed down for no reason. There’s usually a fable or legend attached to the tradition, which is why I’m going to invent my own legend about the holidays and watermelon in the hope that, in true rumor mill style, it will catch on and be accepted as fact.

With that in mind, Thursday’s entry will be a watermelon legend of epic holiday proportions. Because of today’s blog entry, regular What About Watermelon readers will be in on the ruse, but people searching online for watermelon legends will be led directly to that entry, and not this one revealing my true intentions.

With any luck, my plan will work, and watermelon will soon have its place as a traditional holiday offering … at least in my house.