My first real attempt at winemaking all started with crabapples. Earlier this fall, I got a hot tip about a crabapple tree that was overloaded with fruit, so I went searching. Sure enough, the tree, in the backyard of some anonymous doublewide, was literally collapsing under the weight of its bounty. Branches the size of my calves had snapped and the boughs were bowing to the ground. I picked a bucketful of fruit and went home not quite sure what to do with them.