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by Kristen Bonardi Rapp
It began, as so many addictions do, with a free taste.
“Go ahead,” said the man at the table, “try one.”
I did... and I never looked back.
My name is Kristen. And I really love grapes.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not talking about the almost flavorless, watery globes of fruit for sale at the supermarket. I mean, genuine, honest-to-goodness, oh-that-must-be-what-grape-candy-is-trying-to-taste-like real GRAPES.
On a crisp fall day last year, I was at the W. 175th Street Greenmarket when I saw a table selling baskets of grapes from Wager’s Cider Mill in Penn Yan, NY — “Out near the Finger Lakes,” said the man at the table, while I nodded knowingly and made a mental note to look up where, exactly, the Finger Lakes are.
The aforementioned man at the table – whom I have come to affectionately think of as The Grape Guy – told me a little about the different grapes he had for sale: big dusky purple Concords, smaller red Senecas, and pale green Niagaras.
“Go on ahead and try one,” he offered, so I picked a Concord grape from one of the bunches and ate it.
Now, I’m not a wine drinker, so when I’ve heard a wine being described as “deep and jammy, with hints of apple,” I thought that was nonsense. But the minute I tasted that first Concord grape, I understood exactly what they meant. They’re sweet and juicy, with little flashes of tartness when you crush the skin between your teeth. And the taste is, well, like grape but even more so, with an intensity that always has me trying to think of what other fruit it reminds me of: cherries? plums? maybe blackberries?
The Grape Guy (whose name I have yet to find out, because he’s usually so busy manning the table by himself I don’t want to bother him) also sells terrific apples and cider, but it’s the grapes that keep me coming back week after week.
Sometimes, though, my desire to buy said grapes often outstrips my ability to eat said grapes before they start looking a bit elderly. What to do with an overabundance of grapes?
How about a pie?
I know – a grape pie sounds a little wrong somehow, doesn’t it? I assure you that these grapes are so far removed from anything you’ve ever bought at the supermarket, they make for a pie that will have your friends and family dying to know what kind of fruit you’ve made it with.
Grape Pie:
4-5 cups (about 2 pounds) of grapes (I like Concords, but any variety will do)
3/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup instant tapioca pearls (I found this in the same aisle as Jell-O in the Key Food on 187th and Broadway)
2 tablespoons cold butter, cut into small pieces
Pastry for a 9-inch pie (top and bottom crusts)
Wash the grapes and remove the skins. (Just pinch them at the end opposite the stem, and the pulp will pop right out.) Set the skins aside for now.
Put the pulp into a heavy pan, bring it to a boil, and let it boil for about 5 minutes, until the pulp starts to separate from the seeds.
Remove the seeds by putting the mixture through a fine mesh strainer. Pour the hot pulp over the skins and let the mixture sit for 6 hours or overnight.
Stir in the sugar and tapioca, set aside for about 20 minutes, then pour the mixture into the bottom pie crust and dot with butter.
Put on the top crust. I like to make a lattice top (as seen in the photo) but you can just pinch or crimp the top and bottom together around the edge and cut a few slits on the top for vents.
Bake at 400 degrees for 15 minutes. Lower the temperature to 350 degrees and cook 20 minutes more until the crust is browned and the juice begins to bubble up.
Serve warm or at room temperature.
Kristen Bonardi Rapp is a journalist and a local food blogger. You can read more of her stories at http://gezellig-girl.com.
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