I've spent the last week in my mother's kitchen, watching her whip up lemon squares, caramel brownies, Moroccan-style turkey meatballs, garlicky tomato chutney served cold over whole wheat pasta, fruit salads, juicy grilled meats...my mouth is in a constant state of watering.

My wedding is in two months (freak out!) and besides helping me with finding a dress and planning all of the logistics of our rather casual BBQ buffet, Mom made homemade Concord grape jelly for us to give as wedding favors.

I grew up in a suburb of Boston, and our house was remotely located on six acres of wooded land that bordered a conservation area. We didn't have many neighbors - my playmates included a deer I named Freckles and a fox that I would hand-feed bologna. It wasn't the smartest idea, but who thinks of that when they're 9?

Deep in the thicket behind our backyard, Concord grapes grew wild in fragrant clusters, and every year, when the tail end of summer bumped up against the autumn, my father would take me and my brother out to to the woods so we could fill paper grocery bags with these plump wild fruits. Mom would spend two days making jar after jar of jelly, and the winter months were spent smearing the sweetly tannic stuff on breakfast toast and peanut butter sandwiches. 



Since our wedding is in the fall, right after prime Concord grape season, I thought that somehow incorporating this wonderful jelly would also incorporate some of my treasured food memories.

Mom used Concord grape juice, but, 175 jars later, who could blame her?

She gave me a sneak taste last night, and although it's currently 87 degrees outside, for a moment, I tasted crisp autumn mornings.

Mom Says:

• Don't make jelly on a hot day
• Domino's sugar makes the best jelly