A few hours later, more fruit added to the brew. It has caught the yeast already in the air–no, not some errant fly-by-night or evergrowing Herman, but from the other wines, the heady Montrachet. Bubbling rather timidly at first an hour later I uncover it to find it sparkling with excitement, peaches talking to the quince and crabapples dancing with the pears as if it already were the cocktail party it will become.
FOR FUN: See if you can spot the bug…
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
I think I see it. Is it that black thing to the right of the bowl on the crabapple?
I don’t know but I’ll look again in that area…maybe I can get it out before it decomposes and ferments into the wine. I knew younger eyes might spot it. Thanks!
:o)
Ruth, I’m glad you understand that this is tongue-in-cheek.
I’m fascinated with your wine making, have always thought of trying it (ever since reading Dandelion Wine). Do you do it every year, or is it new for you?
I’ve made wine for about fifteen years–not every year however, as it depends on the harvest and what’s available. I started when I had more grapes than I could handle and they started fermenting by themselves before I could plan on making jelly so I just washed them,tossed them in water and sugar, and went and bought the necessary additives and equipment. Not every year is good, not every year makes a good wine, but I do my best.