Today was grape squish day

[TBRS1]

Today I harvested about 60 pounds of concord grapes, and whatever I decide to do with them, it always begins with squishing.

It starts with pulling the little fellows off the middle stick. My hands will be stained blue for the next three days.

Then, they go into a grinder that E. A. Poe would have admired.

Then, they look juicy and slippery.

Into the squisher you go, my little friends!

Watching the juice run out would make a good "Oddly Satisfying" YouTube video.

 

[Judge]

I've always loved eating them as is. Trouble is, they have become increasingly difficult to even find in stores.

 

[TBRS1]

I've always loved eating them as is. Trouble is, they have become increasingly difficult to even find in stores.

I like them fresh too - kind of an acquired taste/texture combo, with the sour slip skin and the difficult to describe texture of the sweet inner part.

I've never seen concords in stores around me, though (except in juice or jelly form). Their wild form grows crazy mad in every empty lot everywhere where I live.

 

[Yeshuasdaughter]

We had a vineyard!!

How it worked was after the harvest, a whole bunch of friends and relatives would come over.

There would be a tarp laid out on the front porch, and in the sun porch too.

Outside, just as you're going to step up on the porch, you have to wash your feet really well, with the garden hose, and with soap.

Then you step the one clean/dry foot onto the tarp on the porch. And then do the same to the other foot.

Everyone stands in line at the door. Inside the sun porch, there would be a kiddie pool filled with bunches of grapes (with the stems still on).

Each person would have their time dancing around, stomping on the grapes.

Eventually it would all be puree'd. Then more grapes would be brought.

This would go into the giant stone crock. It would sit on the counter for a few days, until the men would get together to hoist it up at the top of one of the wardrobes downstairs. It would stay there for a year or two, while periodically, people would come by and taste little sips of it, to see how it's going.

It would be filtered, bottled, and labeled with a date and type of grape, and kept up in my grandmother's closet. It was considered to be the "fine wine", much different from grocery store wine, even expensive stuff. The "fine wine" was only brought out on very fancy occasions, and then put back up in the closet.

Oh! I forgot to mention! Everyone who helped stomp the wine, their family was paid with a bottle of the wine that was produced.

 

[Judge]

I like them fresh too - kind of an acquired taste/texture combo, with the sour slip skin and the difficult to describe texture of the sweet inner part.

I've never seen concords in stores around me, though (except in juice or jelly form). Their wild form grows crazy mad in every empty lot everywhere where I live.

Good point. The texture aspect isn't so nice as the flavor of a Concord Grape.

Years ago I used to see them seasonally available (August) at any number of major grocers. -Years ago...however I have no idea why they disappeared.

 

[Yeshuasdaughter]

I am not much of a drinker at all, but I miss the pulpy bitter/sweet of unfiltered new wine. You are very lucky. Do you live in a California wine region?

 

[TBRS1]

We had a vineyard!!

How it worked was after the harvest, a whole bunch of friends and relatives would come over.

There would be a tarp laid out on the front porch, and in the sun porch too.

Outside, just as you're going to step up on the porch, you have to wash your feet really well, with the garden hose, and with soap.

Then you step the one clean/dry foot onto the tarp on the porch. And then do the same to the other foot.

Everyone stands in line at the door. Inside the sun porch, there would be a kiddie pool filled with bunches of grapes (with the stems still on).

Each person would have their time dancing around, stomping on the grapes.

Eventually it would all be puree'd. Then more grapes would be brought.

This would go into the giant stone crock. It would sit on the counter for a few days, until the men would get together to hoist it up at the top of one of the wardrobes downstairs. It would stay there for a year or two, while periodically, people would come by and taste little sips of it, to see how it's going.

It would be filtered, bottled, and labeled with a date and type of grape, and kept up in my grandmother's closet. It was considered to be the "fine wine", much different from grocery store wine, even expensive stuff. The "fine wine" was only brought out on very fancy occasions, and then put back up in the closet.

Oh! I forgot to mention! Everyone who helped stomp the wine, their family was paid with a bottle of the wine that was produced.

I love that story!

That's the way I like to do things, too. Enjoy it by doing it. It doesn't have to be high tech, it's an ancient technology that can still be easily done by non-specialists who know the right method.

 

[TBRS1]

I am not much of a drinker at all, but I miss the pulpy bitter/sweet of unfiltered new wine. You are very lucky. Do you live in a California wine region?

Funny thing... I rarely drink, but I'm a wiz at fermenting things. So this 5 gallons of concords are now fermenting and will end up as 20 bottles of wine, 19 of which I will give away .

Nope - not California, but Michigan. We do have a sizable wine industry thanks to lucky weather patterns and sandy rocky soil gifted to us by the last ice age, though.

The native grape all over the US Northeast (Vineland, if you're a Viking noticing all the grapevines ) is the source of the concord grape.