I spent Labor Day weekend on the Jersey Shore with some friends, and when we weren't playing touch football or tennis, riding jet skis or frolicking in the warm Atlantic ocean, we ate, and ate, and ate some more. There was simple fresh fish, creamy New England Clam chowder and crispy fries our first night at Smitty's. A barbecue at home the next night with jalapeno-spiked burgers, roasted veggies (many of which came from two different farm shares), a clambake for 18 on Sunday, and homemade lobster rolls on Monday.

And then there was the one food we talked about the most on this trip, the real winner, the one I could wake up and eat every single morning (although I'd weigh 1,000 pounds if I did): my friend Judith's amazing monkey bread.

When we arrived in Ocean City on Friday, Judith stopped off at Bennie's Bread, to pick up two balls of homemade dough. Once we settled in at our friend April's house, she placed the dough in a bowl to rise. When the dough sufficiently expanded, she ripped it into chunks, put it in a bundt pan, poured a mixture of butter, cinnamon and sugar on top and let it rise again.

Judith was introduced to monkey bread by her husband Tim's family. Tim grew up with a bunch of brothers and every time they went to visit their aunt, she'd whip up a few batches. Our other friend Josh is also a huge monkey bread fan. In fact, he still vividly remembers the day a family friend came over and just cut a chunk off of a fresh loaf. He was shocked that she'd do such a thing since everyone knows you're supposed to ceremoniously pull pieces with your fingers. I, on the other hand, had never tried monkey bread. But all this talk about fresh dough, butter, sugar and cinnamon? Monkey bread sounded like my kind of sweet.

When Sunday finally rolled around and it was time to try the much talked about monkey bread, I felt like a kid on Christmas. I woke up early and ran upstairs where Judith was preparing to pop the bundt pan in the oven. The next 35 minutes were torturous. The kitchen filled up with the most enticing scent of warm bread, butter, sugar and cinnamon. Lots of other foods were being made -- English muffins, fruit salad, homemade scones -- but I was saving room for that monkey bread and am I glad I did.

When it finally emerged for the oven, swollen and glistening with the stickiest, most delicious looking butter-sugar glaze, I was speechless. Judith expertly flipped the monkey bread onto a plate, set it on the table, and within seconds, we were all pulling off chunks, oohing and ahhing while we licked our sweet and sticky fingers. It tasted like a cinnamon bun, but the bread dough gave each bite more texture and in some ways helped balance the ultra sweet flavors. It was best straight out of the oven, but we had no problem eating it the next day as well.

Judith was nice enough to share the recipe that she used, so I've listed it here. If you have a special monkey bread recipe that you like to use, I'd love to hear about it too!

Janet Kane's Mouthwatering Monkey Bread

Bread dough (enough for two loaves)
1 cup white sugar
3 tsp. cinnamon
3/4 cup brown sugar
1 stick butter

Allow bread dough to rise (if using frozen dough, thaw overnight in fridge). Pull bread apart into chunks, about one inch in diameter. Combine white sugar and cinnamon. Roll dough balls in sugar mixture. Stack rolled dough balls in a bundt pan. Melt butter and brown sugar until boiling. Pour mixture over dough balls in bundt pan. Cover with plastic and allow dough to rise again to the top of the bundt pan.* Bake at 350 degrees for 35 minutes. Turn baked monkey bread onto a plate.

*Note: Once bread has risen again, it may be refrigerated overnight and baked in the morning if you desire a fresh-from-the-oven monkey bread breakfast.

I can't believe summer is over. It’s my absolute favorite season and I really had a great time this year. One of the high points was my weekly CSA pickups. The farm will still have food until November, but it is really obvious summer has ended. The tomatoes have dwindled down to a handful, the summer squash was destroyed by beetles and the basil is not bursting back from its most recent trim. I'm almost ready to accept fall — I'm sure the first winter squashes and Macoun apples will help ease the pain.

So, here are my remaining summer farm pics:

One of my all-time favorite parts of going to the farm is cutting flowers for my house.

This is what my car looks like driving home

Here is a photo of some of my loot (but this was taken in August — my September bounty looks much different)

Here is Farmer Ron, who along with his lovely wife Kate, makes this world a better place for us CSA members

By the way, if you're interested in learning more about CSAs while being entertained at the same time, try to catch a showing of The Real Dirt on Farmer John. It might not be in the theaters anymore, but I'm sure it will be out on video relatively soon.

I don’t understand why more people aren’t crazy about Concord grapes. In fact, I’m the only person I know who really likes them (If you're a fellow Concord grape lover — please chime in!)

My husband tells me it’s an acquired taste, but I actually think it is the complete opposite — a willing suspension of any evolved palate whatsoever. Concord grapes are totally lacking in any sophistication or nuance — it is pure, unadulterated, in-your-face grape flavor (I believe the oenological term is actually "foxy"). Maybe part of Concord grapes’ bad PR is unfamiliarity — most modern-day grape-eaters are used to Thompson seedless and Red Globe, and Concord grapes have a remarkably short season. You only see them for about three months starting at the end of summer, which endears them to me even more. When I bought them this weekend at my farm stand, the teenager at the cash register asked what I do with them. "Eat them?" I hesitantly responded. Well, actually I did more than that eat them this time — I made grape juice.

I followed Deborah Madison’s Fresh Grape Juice with Lemon Verbena from her cookbook Local Flavors (one of my top 10 favorite cookbooks, by the way).

Fresh Grape Juice with Lemon Verbena
Makes about 1 quart

3 to 4 pounds grapes
Simple syrup
Soda water
1 lemon, sliced
Lemon verbena, lemon basil, or mint sprigs

Special equipment: food mill

1. Rinse grapes well under running water, plucking them off the stems as you do so. Don't worry about getting rid of every bit of stem — the food mill will do most of the work.

2. Put all the grapes in a wide, heavy pot. Add 1 cup water, turn the heat to high, and cover the pan. Once it starts to boil, lower the heat to medium and cook for 15 minutes. Pass them through the food mill set over a bowl.

3. Taste and sweeten it with the syrup if needed. When you’ve got it as sweet as you like, pour it into a jar and refrigerate. Serve over ice mixed with soda water, lemon slices and herb sprigs.

My friends and I were all really impressed with how good this drink was — not too sweet, lovely color, refreshing. I’m always on the lookout for grown-up non-alcoholic drinks, and this is one I would be thrilled to receive at a party or restaurant. And as a nutritionist, I’m psyched that it most likely contains copious amounts of resveratrol, the heart-healthy phytonutrient that occurs in red wine. To your health!