So the rrrrrrroot of any word is Greek, according to Mr. Portocalos, in a great review of Greek culture. (Another post is how accurate the movie might be, say, should one marry into a Greek family. Ahem, NB last name of this blogger….)
The rrrrrrroot of our fruit fly infestation has been uncovered! It has nothing to do with squishy fruit, or detached retinas. It has everything to do with Concord grapes.
If you were raised in an Italian family, then at least five of your relatives had trellises with grapes growing all summer long. Harvest was just around the corner, as fall came into its own. If you stand in our driveway now, the sweet smell of Concord grapes is unavoidable.
My grandparents had trellises of grapes behind Grandpa’s wood shop. The blue-violet fruit would hang down and tempt us as children. There was a wooden cask in the basement of their house, with last year’s vintage brewing. It is still debatable whether it was wine or vinegar brewing in that cask!
These grapes seem to evoke childhood in almost everyone we meet. Today two contractors stopped over to give us an estimate on a stamped concrete patio. When they saw the Concord grapes, as negotiations wound down, they buried themselves up into the vines, pulled down bunches, and groaned with pleasure.
It’s funny, but our kids do not seem to respond with much emotion to these Concord grapes. You see, they have seeds. And we have engineered seeds out of the fruit experience for the younger generations.
Imagine that! As an older sister – what would life have been like if I had been unable to spit watermelon seeds at my younger brothers????