The Real Meaning of Fall -- The Concord Grape

By Daniel B. England

Lots of people think this is the time of year for the World Series and Thanksgiving.  These incidental occurrences may get the attention of some, but they are, for me, mere distractions from the main point of fall.  Fall means you can easily get your hands on Concord grapes.

 I am astonished by how many people have overlooked this phenomenon – what can only be described as a sensual event.  You may, at this point say in your head, “aren’t those the grapes that make really bad wine or, marginally better, are turned into grape juice or jelly.”  Well, yes, but these are irrelevancies.

Concord grapes (named after Concord, Mass, where some think they were first grown) are to be anticipated like a wedding night for a Mennonite.  They have an intoxicating bouquet that will fill your kitchen.   They are firm and perfectly round and have a color that L. L. Bean is always trying to get their sweaters to look like.  But it is in the eating of they that they reveal their true guilty pleasure.

Unlike other grapes, with Concord grapes you usually don’t eat the skins.  Instead you find the dot where the stem was attached and point it toward the back of your mouth.  Then put the grape just past your lips and gently squeeze the skin.  The inside of the grape will slide into your mouth.  Here’s the moment.  Roll it around but don’t chew it.  Then swallow, seeds and all.

If you’re lucky, like a Mennonite with an enlightened wife, you can do it again.  And if your wildly beating heart can stand it (don’t worry Concord grapes are apparently wonderful for the heart), do it again and again until they disappear from grocery shelves one day and you once again long for Fall to arrive.  World Series indeed.