Every month I opine about the odd world that our food community finds itself operating in.  For September, I’ve chosen the word limbo. The UNC Campus is mostly closed, with instructions primarily online, but in my neighborhood at least, it seems that the students have just resettled around town. Lots of them are still here. Safe distancing and mask use vary according to the time of day you look. Because of the nice weather, sidewalks and patios downtown have lots of diners. Take outs and deliveries have definitely come into their own. Our dining habits are newly reformed, at least for now.

Lantern threw another sidewalk Ice Cream Social, making things seemed civilized again, for a moment. La Residence has reopened its patio, refitted with curtains and dividers and lovely lighting. I stopped in one night for a ribeye and an Old Fashioned. Years ago when I worked there, that was just the side yard. The transformation is remarkable. One Wednesday morning, as I biked down Rosemary Street, I saw that there was finally no line at Brandwein’s Bagels so I stopped in. I went traditional getting a poppyseed bagel with cream cheese but there are many other options. Fresh bagels really are better, and this explains why there is so often a line and why people have been sitting outside there even as rain threatens. The tables outside are very far apart, by the way.

This morning brought sad news. Cindy McMahan posted on social media that after nearly thirty years, she and her partners have decided not to reopen Elmo’s Diner in Carrboro. The combination of a small, crowded kitchen and of half of their tables kept empty just didn’t look doable. For years, half of my nighttime kitchen staff also held fulltime day jobs cooking there, so our interaction was constant. More than once I borrowed either cooks or eggs from there. And I always enjoyed my visits as a customer to their bustling dining room. Congress’s cavaliere approach to the Restaurants Act is especially offensive when its results hit home like this. She had a large staff so that is a lot of lost jobs.

Our Farmers Markets continue to be exemplary. Besides providing groceries, they may have become the new cocktail party. They are practically the only places left where you can run into friends in person and chat, although they do discourage malingering. On the same subject, sort of, I have mentioned before that since one can’t go out for cocktails anymore, that I have redirected some of those funds to flowers and this week every flat surface in my house has vase of something.  It’s like finding little rewards everywhere you turn. This week the markets had peppers of every description, squash – both summer and winter, all kinds of meat, mushrooms, cheeses and baked goods. You can still find okra that hasn’t gotten big and woody yet. And all of a sudden, people are selling scuppernong and muscadine grapes. I don’t remember seeing them much in past years. People used to make fun of them, in fact. They are our native, if troublesome grape, so it’s nice to see them appearing on market tables now. Below, I’ve included a recipe for a sorbet made from these grapes that I used to serve at Crook’s Corner. It’s taken from a new book I’m sort of working on while in limbo, hence the flowery introductory notes.

Scuppernong Sorbet

 When I was little, my father had a friend who would occasionally give him bottles of homemade scuppernong wine. I wasn’t allowed to taste it of course, but I remember clearly thinking that this wine smelled like fingernail polish.  This sorbet has an aroma as well, but it is lovely. And oddly, especially for something that is frozen, you can smell it from a surprising distance. It causes people to smile before they taste it.

These grapes have fans and detractors. They are a difficult fruit. The skin is tough. The pulp is sour and won’t release its seeds. Very much like liver, nobody sort of likes them. They are the indigenous wild grape of the south eastern United States. Their cousin, the purple hulled muscadine will work here too.

Makes a quart, more or less

8 cups of scuppernong grapes

A tiny pinch of salt

2 cups of sugar

2 Tbs. fresh lemon juice

4 cups water

These grapes vary. Sometimes you can squeeze their pulp out with your fingers. Other times, you have to cut each one with a knife. I ended up just cutting each one in two. Place the grape pulp in a large bowl with the salt and sugar and allow it to sit for at least half an hour at room temperature. This will cause the grapes to juice a bit. Bring the water to a boil and add the hulls. Reduce to a simmer and let them cook while the grapes are macerating. Strain out the peels and set the liquid in ice. You will need about 3 ½ cups. Put the fruit through a food mill to extract as much juice as possible. Don’t pulverize the seeds, but tiny flecks of them will get through. This is ok. Don’t use a food processor. Stir the water and lemon juice into the grape puree. Churn in an ice cream maker according to the manufacturer’s instructions. This will generally need a few hours in the freezer afterward to really firm up.


“Just The Bill, Please” is a regular column on Chapelboro.com penned by local culinary legend Bill Smith. Born and raised in New Bern, Bill Smith spent 25 years heading up the kitchen in Crook’s Corner — and over the years, he accumulated the accolades to match his incomparable takes on classic Southern food.

 


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