Happy Poetry Friday!

Thank you to Linda for hosting this week’s roundup! Please visit her at Teacher Dance to check out her lovely summer look-back poem as well as all the other Poetry Friday posts.

Have you ever tasted a food and transported to another time and place? Just the thought of eating a candy apple takes me back to strolling around the county fair with sticky hands and red cheeks.

Yesterday, I was in a small market in Massachusetts with my son, and we came across baskets of wild black raspberries. Of course, I had to buy some. There were also boxes of Concord grapes. We needed some of those too.

As we were walking out of the store a couple berries fell on the ground. Not wanting to waste a memory, I scooped them up, dusted them off, and popped them into my mouth. My son and husband laughed when I said, “Tastes like being a kid.”

Growing up in Western NY State, I spent my summers with my cousin. An unruly, black raspberry patch sprawled behind my house. We hid in that berry patch for hours eating sun-warmed berries, getting scratched by inch-long prickers, and picking fruit for my older sister to bake us a pie.

If you’ve ever eaten wild black raspberries, you know that the seeds are disproportionally large and hard compared to blackberries, and the flavor is a bit … muskier? Black raspberry pies are dry and more seed than fruit ... but, I can’t get enough. Black raspberries are part of my soul.

The same goes for Concord grapes. We grew up in the NYS Finger Lake Region – wine country. Wine is fine, but … the grapes are where the magic lives. There is a technique to eating Concord grapes – if want a pleasant experience. I am going to share this technique with you, in confidence.

You pick a grape and squeeze it into your mouth until the pulp and juice empty from its skin. You let the clear, sweet juice trickle across your tongue and the pulp slide down your throat. Do not chew! If you bite down, very sour juice from inside the pulp will escape, and you will have to contend with two large, crunchy seeds.

What happens next is the subject of much controversy: eat or toss the skin? I toss ‘em, but my cousin always swore by eating the skins. They aren’t bad, just not as delicious as the sublime juice and slippery pulp. Nowadays, I bake the skins into quick bread where they masquerade as blueberries.

 

Concords

Sunbaked
grapes
plucked
and sucked
release
the
flavor
of
childhood.

© Tracey Kiff-Judson

 

If you can find Concord grapes – here is a recipe to try with the skins. It is rather dense, but quite tasty!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

24 comments

  • I probably shouldn't be reading this at night, when I'm not ready to go on the search for black raspberries or Concord grapes, Tracey, but your tasty descriptions really make me want to! I enjoyed your description of the special eating experience, "the flavor of childhood", just right! 
  • Loved your post, Tracey! My first comment evaporated, but I was trying to tell you that I sent your recipe to my parents, who grow Concord grapes. Your black raspberries reminded me that I wrote a black raspberry poem for Ruth (for a poem swap):
    Hold it to my nose and I'm a child
    who twisted a black raspberry from a bush
    which I roll gently in my palm
                            and deposit in a pail
    where I can still smell it and its kin
            as I move farther down the hilly path,
    fighting the urge to grab the brambles 
           to steady myself
                 as pebbles shift under my feet,
    already aware that harvesting treasure
          means hazarding tumbles and thorns.
    • Tabetha, thank you for sharing that poem! I was right there with you. How lovely that your parents grow grapes! Tell them that I think the recipe could do with a splash of milk. The batter is quite thick! : )
  • What deliciousness!! And a perfect goodbye-to-summer post. Learned so much here. Black raspberries? New to me! Concord grapes? Never had them except in commercial juice. Appreciate your tip for eating them and the quick bread recipe (sounds yummy!). Also like "tastes like being a kid." Childhood memories are somehow more meaningful and leave a deeper impression on your soul. Thanks for sharing one of yours! xo
  • Tracey, what a delicious post. I love baking so I might try a bread or pie if I can find berries at the farmer's market. I also loved your back-home stories. "Tastes like being a kid.” What great memories.Thanks for sharing summertime thoughts of NYS. I grew up in Central NY and my Nonnie had her own vegetable, floral gardens, and a grape vine on a trellis. Thanks for letting my mind travel backwards.
  • The spouse and I lived in a small older house in downtown Ithaca years ago where an Italian couple had once raised 6 kids. There was a huge concord grape vine that grew over the carport--I can still smell those grapes. And your poem brings back the taste.
  • I've never had black raspberries! So interesting! Blueberries still taste like childhood to me — we used to go blueberry picking when I lived in Alaska as a kid. Lovely poem, and your bread sounds delicious! 
  • "Black raspberries are part of my soul." Oh yes! Love that. I love black raspberries and blackberries. But mangoes are part of my soul (having grown up mango trees thrive). Concord grape bread sounds so fascinating! 
  • Tracey, my mouth was watering just reading the lead-up to your poem --no longer satisfied with my normally luxurious morning coffee. I don't know where I would find Concord grapes, but I may have to throw blueberries into that bread recipe -- NOW!
  • I've never had black raspberries, but blackberries are the fruit of my childhood. I've never been able to replicate my mother's blackberry cobbler, but it hasn't kept me from trying, again and again. Why didn't those women use recipes? I love "the flavor of childhood" from your poem. I visited Ithaca when daughter and son-in-law were at Cornell. It was a beautiful spot. We were just ten minutes from Ithaca Falls, a perfect after dinner stroll.

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