The skin of the grape resists at first.  It sloughs a hint of earthy bitterness; rustles with infused sun.  It puckers.  Then, with a snap, it breaks.<br/><br/>Juice opens, the flavor generous - gemlike with sweet aspects and crisp, sour lines.  The yielding flesh comes apart slowly, unfolding, filtering gradually from a virginal tension into pure and nourishing taste.<br/><br/>The grape itself could be a meal - the best kind of meal; the kind that leaves the gourmand's appetite whet and wondering after more.