FALL HAS A SPECIAL place in my heart. When I was a kid, until I left my parents’ home to go to university, as soon as the grapes would start to ripen, I’d go around the yard and get myself a bunch of sweetest ones, usually by holding up the bottom of my T-shirt for an impromptu fruit-picking bucket.
I grew up in the heart of Transylvania, its lively beats faster each September when the air was thick with the flavour of ripening fruit and the trees would start shedding the occasional leaf. One of the fall traditions was wine making. My grandparents and parents too, my aunts and uncles, they all did that. Neighbours too.