What It Is

Perhaps it’s a Northeast-centric sort of thing, but I love concord grapes. Something about the dichotomy between the sweet, intense grapey-ness inside the skin and the sour slippery-coolness of the fruit. I love their black skins, I love teasing out the big, easy-to-spit seeds. They remind me of other funky foods I adore, like oysters and caviar and peas. I remember my first taste of those crazy grapes in upstate NY as a child,and I still eat them every fall.

Having lived almost all my days as a hardcore urbanite, in childhood I wanted to be a pioneer, an Indian, a cowgirl, a farmer or pretty much anyone that knew a lot about the outdoors and got to hang out with animals. I dream sometimes of a future gardening self, with a kitchen garden full of vegetables and herbs and a lovely Concord grape arbor.

Then I reflect on how I’ve pretty much killed every houseplant I’ve ever owned and how I’m almost as allergic to sunlight as Dracula, and I return to my indoor pursuits.

My loved one, raised in the great state of Texas, thinks these seasonal treats are absolutely disgusting, disdaining all grapes that dare to contain seeds. Fall has barely begun, and I’m close to polishing off 2 pounds of grapes all on my own. On this autumnal equinox weekend, I can’t recommend them highly enough.

Have you ever been to Mexico? Did you know they’ve been drinking chocolate there for 3,000 years? They know a thing or two. I found this in my barrio neighborhood supermarket, and I must tell you, it’s delicious. Disks of chocolate encrusted with cinnamon sugar that you cut up into quarters and blend with hot milk (or rice milk, if you’re me.) It’s also nice to have around for an instant, albeit super-sweet chocolate treat when you really need one and can’t be bothered to walk to the bodega for candy at 1 am. Drink up, and dream of Mexico.