I’m realising I can keep this blog going past its original end date. The question is whether I’ll maintain the habit once the daily obligation is gone. Part of what makes it work is that I have to post every night, even when life presses on—like tonight, when Mike is downstairs with a movie cued, waiting for me to finish. There’s also that niggling thought: if I’m going to spend time on something every day, shouldn’t it either earn money or contribute to W’s development? Then again, people spend time and money on hobbies simply because they enjoy them.
I’d heard about roasting sausages with grapes sometime last year and mentally bookmarked the idea. Last weekend I brought home a little cardboard basket of Concord grapes from the market. Mike’s reaction was perfect: “No way! Concord grapes!” Me: “How did you remember those were Concord grapes?” Mike: “Because they are the most awesome fruit in the world.” He earned a few extra points right then.
The grapes were a touch too tart for us—W spat one out as if it were poisoned (not quite as dramatically as the time he mistook olives for grapes and declared, “Mommy, those are angry grapes!”). With half a basket heading south, I decided it was the perfect chance to try the sausage-and-grape experiment.
It turned out to be one of the easiest dishes I’ve ever made, ideal for company. We served it for a late lunch that stretched into the afternoon; twelve people came through (about half under twelve), and the recipe scaled easily from two to a dozen. In a rimmed baking pan I spread a base of grapes and half a slivered purple onion, then arranged eight large sausages on top—alternating mild and hot Italian, though any sausage would work. I drizzled a little oil out of habit for roasting, and at the last minute tucked a few rosemary sprigs over everything.
As they roasted, the grapes released their juices and mingled with the sausages, creating a tangy pan sauce. Next time I’ll add a splash of balsamic and perhaps reduce the juices into a thicker, stickier glaze after removing the sausages.
To accompany the dish I roasted potatoes. Since the sausages needed about 45 minutes at 400°F, I slid a rimmed sheet of chunky new potatoes tossed in oil into the oven at the same time. Next time I think I’ll make smashed or mashed potatoes—either would be a better vehicle for that sweet-and-savoury sauce. I’m already looking forward to making this again when it’s freezing outside—maybe in January.