The grapes that you can buy in the supermarket do not even compare to those that I have found on suburban grapevines. Maybe this is because I grew up sampling my Nonnos (Italian: Grandpa) grapes. He made his own wine and had a delightful, fragrant wine cellar under his house. It was always cool and dark down there with instruments of the wine maker neatly installed along the walls, and centre stage a wine press or tub (I think he did it the old-fashioned way! Feet and all, but not sure if I can be sure.) As a result of his wine making there were many absolutely delicious and unusual grape varieties in his backyard. What a lucky little girl I was to be privy to such a gardens fruit!
I am glad to pass the grape sampling tradition on. Surely this is the stuff a happy childhood is made of!