It's heaven in a little purple ball, baby. Muscadines. I spent my life thinking these little delights were called muskydimes. They're not. I've decided I don't care WHAT they're called, long as I get me some. Seriously. They taste SO good to me, I've become shameless in my pursuit of them. Scouring farmer's markets and various produce sections in search of those tough-skinned little blasts of pungeance. Is pungeance a word? I don't know, dood. All I know is I love me some scuppernongs, muscadines, possum grapes, muskydimes...whatever the hell you are, you rubbery little grapesque thingies...I love you. I love you as much as I love pomegranates. I love you till my lips hurt. I'm going to learn to grow these bitches, cause $1.76 for the pint basket pictured is a RIP!
If you happen upon a muscadine, EAT IT. You'll love it. And if you don't love it, something's wrong with you and you should not reproduce. :D
