I don’t know what vintners would think of Bushwick back yards as far as terroir, but if they were in a pinch, they could definitely plant grapes here and craft some crappy grappa.

Our story begins a few months ago — well, scratch that, it starts decades ago, I’m sure, when the Garofalo family likely planted the vines. But the story as it relates to me began when I noticed these vines twirling up out of the rubble and muck between the two big ghetto weed trees (excuse me, I don’t know the Latin name). They had little green balls on them, but like the other weed vines strangling the half-dead ghetto trees, I figured they were just some more ugly ass seed pods.

Fast forward to last weekend, and I had some friends over for a BBQ. I pick a bunch of the balls and realized that they resembled grapes. Jen said, “they do look like grapes!” My neighbor Lolo said “they are grapes.” They are? “Yes, of course.” Then he pointed to the tree at the back of his yard — it’s dead, but the entire thing is covered in grapes.

I was so thrilled to have something from Italian Bushwick survive Puerto Rican Bushwick, that I started reading up on training and pruning. I have no idea how they’ll taste when they’re ripe, but the novelty is enough for me.