Heard it through the grapevine

Tough, leathery type of wild grape can add tasty flavor.

When I was a kid, I thought muscadines and scuppernongs were the most annoying of grapes.

They had thick leathery hulls. The seeds were incredibly stubborn and hard to extract from the pulp. Compared to the pristine seedless grapes readily available at the grocery store, the Southern natives that grew in the wild were tough and unruly: hard-scrabble country bumpkins that looked like they needed a good scrubbing.

I exiled muscadines and scuppernongs (a type of muscadine that produces big fat green and bronze grapes) to the far reaches of memory. They were the stuff of treacly wine that I didn’t care to drink and jams and jellies from olden days that I didn’t have the skills to make.

But around this time last year, sitting at the bar at Holeman and Finch in Buckhead, I ordered a drink called The Howl, made with muscadine and rosemary syrup, Cathead vodka from Mississippi, a touch of lime, a splash of yellow Chartreuse and a hint of spicy dram.

Crafted by Kaleb Cribb, then the lead bar man at the influential gastropub, the drink was bright and refreshing. Just a tad sweet, it gently evoked the floral, nectarous essence of the grape I thought I loathed.

I got off the barstool, looked around and realized that chefs, mixologists and makers around Atlanta are using muscadines in wonderful ways, as the star ingredient in cocktails, preserves, main dishes, salads and sweets.

Steven Lingenfelter, the chef-owner at Illegal Food

Muscadines and scuppernongs are loaded with pectin, so there’s no need to add a store-bought gelling agent to this classic preserve. By the same token, be careful not to overcook, or you’ll have thick, rubbery gel. The jam is delicious on a buttered biscuit, or a cheese plate, and can be mixed with whiskey to make a cocktail.

Separate the grape skins from the pulp by popping the grapes between your thumb and index finger. Place the pulp with the seeds in a medium bowl and the skins in a medium stainless-steel saucepan. Remove the seeds from the pulp, making several passes since it’s hard to remove all the seeds on the first attempt.

Add the water to skins in the saucepan. Cook over medium-high heat, about 30 minutes, or until the skins are tender. Stir occasionally. You will likely need to add more water, 1/2 cup at a time, to prevent scorching. When the skins are tender, transfer to a food processor and pulse until in Virginia-Highland, is a sucker for muscadines, and has been since he was a kid growing up in LaGrange.

“There’s something about wild ones that taste so much different than a vineyard grape,” says Lingenfelter. “You can smell it when the breeze blows.” Whenever he sees an untamed, unclaimed vine loaded with finely chopped.

Return the chopped skins to the pan. (At this point, I use a wider pan for cooking the jam.) Add the pulp, any accumulated grape juice, and the sugar. Bring to a boil. Cook until the jam reaches 220 degrees on a candy thermometer, about 20 minutes.

Ladle the jam into hot, sterilized jars, leaving 1/4 inch of head space. Clean the rims of the jars well with a damp paper towel. Place the lids and rings on the jars, and tighten. Process the jars in a water bath for 10 minutes. Remove, place on a dish towel and allow to cool and sit undisturbed for 12-24 hours. Check lids to make sure they are properly sealed. (They should not ping when pressed.) Store any unsealed jars in the refrigerator. Store jam in a cool dark pantry or cupboard. Makes: 8-10 half-pint jars

—Adapted from “Pickles and Preserves” by Andrea Weigl (UNC Press, $18)

45 calories (none from fat), trace protein, 11 grams carbohydrates, trace fiber, no fat, no cholesterol, trace sodium. muscadines, he grabs a few. “I eat the seed, the skin, the whole thing,” he says.

This time of year, the chef buys muscadines by the case for his restaurant.

He serves a beautiful salad with muscadines and scuppernongs, local lettuces and cheese, and pickled red onions, all moistened with muscadine vinaigrette. He also fashions a gorgeous end-of-summer cocktail of sorghum whiskey, lemon, simple syrup and muddled grapes. It’s called the Muscadine & Scuppernong Smash.

At Saltyard in Buckhead, chef Nick Leahy is also a fan of these local grapes.

He puts up “sweet and sour muscadines” in jars, then pairs the fruit with charcuterie and cheese plates. He blisters the grapes at 500 degrees, then makes jam to serve with his Chocolate Nemesis Cake and in a cocktail he calls “Fall”ing into Step.

Seth Freedman, culinary director at PeachDish, the Atlanta-based company that delivers boxed, ready-tocook meals sourced with local ingredients, has been using muscadines all kinds of ways.

I tried, and loved, his Pork Chops and Grits with Arugula, Fig & Muscadine Salad. Earlier this season, he offered Chicken with Muscadines and Cheddar Mashed Potatoes, and a tartlet made with goat cheese and Preserving Place’s Spiced Grapes (which we feature in today’s Stock Up column).

To get muscadines to test recipes for this story, I drove about an hour south of downtown to Ison’s Nursery and Vineyard in Brooks, Ga. There I found beautiful red and green muscadine grapes at the roadside stand.

Back in my kitchen, I stood over the sink, popped one in my mouth and had a flashback. I had forgotten that one-of-a-kind flavor, so sweetly perfumed that it puts store-bought grapes to shame. And once I got a taste, I couldn’t stop sucking them down.

So if you’ve soured on muscadines, as I had until recently, consider giving them another squeeze.

STYLING BY WENDELL BROCK; CONTRIBUTED PHOTOS BY CHRIS HUNT