Shortly after moving to Pittsburgh, I remember fondly reminiscing to someone about the muscadines that I used to pick in my Aunt Margaret's backyard. This person looked at me incredulously and stated that they had never heard of such a thing. They convinced me I had to be using a misnomer and their very tone caused me to question my childhood remembrances. They scoffed even further when I mentioned that some people made muscadine wine from this regional grape and my mere Southern pronunciation of it brought a bemused reaction.

You have to admit that the pronunciation of muscadine wine does promote usage of the drawn out vowels that the south is famous for but now I relish those words as a sense of identity. It is the usage of such that never fails to bring out a question from the listener of "where are you from?" The same can be ask of the muscadine grape whose sense of mystique lies in the fact that it does not grow outside of the southern belt. This easily explains the unfamiliarity of this late summer fruit among those who live in northern climes.

And they don't know what they are missing. I plan on doing my part to introduce this enticing foreign food to my northern friends and dining companions. This renewed interest and incentive to share was brought on by a recent article I discovered in the September issue of Southern Living. A writer as devoted to this fruit as I had found a way to highlight its unique qualities. With loving detail the grape was honored for its place in southern history as well as the culinary possibilities that it unfolds.

This article presented revelations that I had previously never considered. My most pleasant memories of this fruit were straight off the vine. It was an easy dessert on a hot summer day and I remember the whole family getting up from the Sunday dinner table and traipsing down to the muscadine vine. Here we individually plucked and ate each juicy morsel as we continued our family conversation.

In fact, conversation bloomed around this verdant arbor of fruitful offerings and many a guest was led down to this isolated spot to eat and talk. It was a favorite spot to take friends to discuss in private the discussions we tried in earnest to prevent my brother Andrew from hearing. And my cousin Jennifer loved to walk down on a Sunday afternoon when she came to visit where we would talk and laugh and eat. It was a favorite evening spot for my sister ,Beth, because she could watch the sun set behind my Uncle Bill~s pond as she consumed with delight while drinking in the beautiful scenery.

With memories like these, it is easy to see why I want to share this fruit with those who will find it a new discovery. I read the recipes included in the Southern Living article with anticipation and cannot wait to try out a new dessert on my in-laws. The muscadine pudding tarts looked especially elegant and the cobbler would make a comforting introduction into fall. Before long the holidays will be upon us and the spiced grapes and muscadine marmalade would make a unique and cherished food gift. The possibilities are endless now that I have renewed interest and conviction to promote this grape in all its glory.

Only one problem now presents itself. Where will I find muscadines in Pittsburgh toward the end of their growing season. I think that article mentioned a web page which I think I should attend to visiting immediately. I~m glad this fruit has been elevated to the status of becoming accessible on the world wide web. No one has an excuse now not to experience this delightful delicacy. It just goes to show that southerners are far too generous to keep such a secret to themselves. After all, where do you think the phrase "I heard it on the grape vine." came from.