I was raised in a fruit-snob household. We believed that the best peaches came from South Carolina, the best citrus came from Florida, and the best blueberries came from Maine.
The best grapes in the world were North Carolina scuppernongs, which were not available in Washington, so periodically my father would get into his old VW Bug and drive South to get some, staying overnight with his brother or his aunts before heading back the following day. We'd hear his car coming from three blocks away and run outside to meet him, eager to gorge ourselves on the sweetest grape imaginable. Once inside the house, my father would hand my mother a few sugarcakes to freeze, then hold his arms together so we could laugh at the difference, his left arm that rested in the open window the whole way being much darker for it. That VW Bug had no air conditioning, but I still miss it so.
Scuppernong, Official Fruit of the Great State of North Carolina