Grapes: the foundation of civilization? Possibly. Besides cats, can you think of anything else so prominently featured in 5000-year-old Egyptian hieroglyphs that to this day remains a 'must-have' in the modern garden? (Seriously, don't answer that.) Whatever, grapes have a lot going for them: as this site about the world's healthiest foods notes, 'the combination of crunchy texture and dry, sweet, tart flavor has made grapes an ever popular between-meal snack as well as a refreshing addition to both fruit and vegetable salads.' Grapes also cure cancer, heart disease and maybe even stop you from aging. In short, even if you eat a lot of grapes, it's probably not enough! (This rule obviously applies to the liquid form of grapes, aka 'wine'.)

Please note that for purposes of this post, we will put aside issues related to pesticide use and migrant farm workers long endemic to the grape-industrial-complex, about which Dwight D. Eisenhower so eloquently spoke after leaving office, i.e., during Season 1 of Mad Men.

Oh and another good thing about grapes from a gardening perspective: they grow on 'vines,' an essential component of every garden and the 'missing link' between the plant and animal world. You could even say that a garden without vines is like a ____ without _____.

We planted our grapevine almost eight years ago after impulsively buying (from our local nursery) what looked like a small stick, which we popped into the ground. Miraculously — given our status as 'entry-level gardeners' — it grew, although it did follow the Rule of Vines, i.e., first year sleep, second year creep, third year leap, fourth year strangle small animals. Mostly we planted it for privacy, and so trained it up and over a wooden arbor that extends across the back of the garden. We were shocked when a few years later it flowered and then — get this! – these same flowers turned into adorable clusters of tiny green fruit that over the course of the summer grew 'big and heavy and engorged with sweet juice.' (I know, but grapes ARE kind of soft-porny.)

Even better, the grapes turned out to be red and seedless. Each September we harvest and eat (some of) them, and because this is pretty much the extent of our 'edible garden' (along with some basil), we feel healthy and accomplished, even if we didn't grow corn, tomatoes, carrots, cucumbers, merlot lettuce and rapa, unlike a certain other teacher's pet 'entry-level gardener.'