Leftovers Hold the Heart of the Holiday
The Green Grape Report
A Plate That Remembers
Food Review by Gary Gardiner, The Westerville News
Some foods do more than just nourish us. Leftovers are one of those foods. They carry the weight of recent memories, holding onto moments we aren't ready to forget. Reheating a plate the next day can bring back the rhythm of a holiday table, the comfort of familiar voices, and the steady beat of traditions that return each year. Leftovers remind us where we've been. They turn memory into something you can taste.
That is why this plate mattered even before I built it. The holiday had passed, the house was silent, and the glow of Thanksgiving lingered, close but already fading. Outside, winter advanced without hesitation. Wind pressed against the windows, and the forecast warned of snow by nightfall. Cold like that demands something different from you. As much as I enjoy a crisp turkey sandwich with spicy mayo, tomato, lettuce, and a bread-and-butter pickle, it felt too sharp for the day. Too far removed from the warmth I wanted to hold close.
So I embraced the comfort that the leftovers provided. I toasted a slice of croissant bread until the edges turned golden, layered slices of turkey on top, and poured gravy over everything until it seeped into every crevice. Cranberries took the spotlight, bright and bold, their red standing out against the soft browns on the plate. Mac and cheese filled the side, reliable as always. Nothing complicated. Nothing that required fuss. Just a warm, open-face meal that suited the weather and my mood.
The taste hit with the familiarity I expected, but it also brought a feeling I had almost forgotten. That's what leftovers do. They carry emotional baggage as well. You take a bite and get a hint of the day before: long conversations, the table that somehow held all the dishes, small traditions that return every year without anyone planning them. They bring back the warmth of having everyone together, without the stress of hosting or rushing.
Leftovers strengthen our lives through remembrance. They keep us connected in a practical, almost physical way. You eat what you share. You absorb the stories again without needing to retell them. The memory becomes nourishing, as steady and grounding as the food itself.
That plate, with its turkey, gravy, cranberries, mac and cheese, and toasted croissant bread, did more than warm me up on a cold afternoon. It reminded me where the warmth came from in the first place. It bridged yesterday’s celebration with today’s quiet. It proved that comfort can be simple, reheated, and still full of meaning.
Leftovers nourish twice. Once in the moment we make the memories, and once in the moment we realize why they matter.
The Green Grape Report
Food Review by Gary Gardiner, The Westerville News
Kroger - Maxtown and Schrock
Brand – Pura Fruit Company
Price – $1.99 a pound
PLU Code – 4022
The Review
I knew, when I walked to the grape cooler, that things were different. The bags looked different. The grapes seemed similar but not quite the same as the Autumn Crisp I had been praising for weeks. When I lifted a bag to check the label, the change became clear. These grapes had a PLU code. The Autumn Crisp never did. And printed just below it, in small letters that felt larger than they appeared, was the line that confirmed everything: Product of Peru. That was the moment it hit me. The Autumn Crisp season was over. It wouldn't return until next summer.
Last week, I confessed something in this space. I said I was starting to get complacent about grapes. It happens every year. The season settles into a routine. The grapes behave, and the quality remains high. I fall into the rhythms of someone who still searches for the flavor of a childhood memory. I go to the grocery stores more often than I should. I pick up the bags, check the firmness, and note the price changes. I reassure myself that everything is still as good as it was the week before. And when it is, week after week, I relax a little too much. Complacency offers its own comfort, but it can also make you forget how quickly things can change.
Maybe that's why the change felt sudden. The domestic season had been winding down gradually, but the grapes themselves didn’t seem to notice. They became sweeter. They firmed up. They gave us that final burst of flavor that only occurs when the fruit hangs long enough for cool nights to work their magic. Autumn Crisp had carried the year, and carried it well. It's no surprise people have started stopping me on the street to ask, “How long do we have left?” or “What’s coming next?” It’s strange to become known for this, but people care about what they eat. And they know I care about green grapes more than a grown adult probably should.
This brings us to the new arrivals: the Peruvian grapes. At first glance, they could pass for what we've been seeing all fall. Same general size. Same green glow. Same tidy clusters. But the closer you look, the more the differences become clear. The PLU code, 4022, indicates right away that you're dealing with a standard green grape, not a named variety. These are not Autumn Crisp, nor are they meant to be. They serve as winter stand-ins to keep the coolers stocked after California steps aside.
For most people who enjoy green grapes, these will seem like a perfectly reasonable substitute. They look familiar enough, and in the middle of winter, availability matters. However, the eating experience is different. These first Peruvian grapes are firm in that early-season way—crisp but not as sweet as what we just said goodbye to. They grow in warm, early-summer conditions, not the cool shoulder of autumn, so their flavor is still developing. The sweetness will increase as Peru’s season progresses. It always does. But for now, the story is texture first, flavor second.
This is the time each year when the grape world resets. One season ends quietly, and another begins with a different rhythm. Autumn Crisp leaves the stage at its peak. Peru steps in with fruit that improves week by week. And I start a new chapter in this ongoing saga, one that readers now join me in following, whether they intended to or not.
People stop me to ask what’s next. Well, here’s what’s next: firmer grapes, mild sweetness, a fresh start, and the promise that as the sun climbs higher in Peru, the flavor will climb with it.
We will follow it together, one bag at a time.
The Westerville News is a reader-supported publication by Gary Gardiner, a lifelong journalist who believes hyper-local reporting is the future of news. This publication focuses exclusively on Westerville—its local news, influence on Central Ohio, and how surrounding areas shape the community.
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