Today's planned report on the Upstate version of sausages and grapes (with kale, over grits) has been derailed by 1) unexpected non-availability of Neese's Extra Sage sausage and 2) unprecedented weirdness in the world of grapes. This is a dish I've made a few times, and I enjoy it because you can stay local, and feel vaguely italian, only not, at the same time--like seeing Baltimora in Branson, MO, maybe. You brown sausage meat, add kale or collards (presteaming is an option, a slug of balsamic, and a 2 handfulls of red grapes just before serving over local grits. The usual grapes looked a little drosophilic, so I went with the more expensive organic grapes, which were longer and darker. Momma raised me right, so I did not pick grapes off the stem to sample. Mistake. Turns out these grapes were to real grapes what fake tits are to real tits. Rather than soften with heat, and via their juices contribute an autumna frisson to the kale and sausage, these freaks turned into hot little bullets that were almost as dangerous as jalapeno poppers. The rest of the grapes will be thoroughly blended in a smoothie, which is serves as the French Foreign Legion for fuit that does not fit into the plan otherwise.
On the other hand, Persimmons! Georgia Persimmons! What a fun, sexy fruit! It's as if the tomato people wanted to get into the dessert market and focus grouped a bunch of Bellini drinkers. If the persimmon is wrong, the Cod does not want to be right.
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