Written by Matteo Ruffo
I am an overzealous traveler and in my desire to see the world, I seemed to immediately forget about the historical city right in front of me after arriving at GT-Europe. My mind immediately raced to my first trip: a tour of Luxembourg and Belgium. I booked my buses and trains, my lodging and museums, and then received an email that conflicted me: the Mirabelle Festival was this weekend! And so, I cut my (absolutely wonderful) Belgium trip a day short, and booked a 6:00 am bus back to Metz on Sunday in order to experience one of Lorraine’s most important traditions firsthand.
Out of all of Metz’s traditions, the Mirabelle Festival is certainly the most famous. Mirabelles are a tiny golden plum that have been harvested in Lorraine for a few hundred years. The two variations are the larger, more bruised Nancy Mirabelle, and the smaller, more tart Metz Mirabelle; the latter of which is the subject of the festival. Mirabelles aren’t only eaten at this festival, they are cherished. There is mirabelle art, concerts dedicated to the mirabelle, and any assortment of food or drink that you can imagine made from mirabelles. Now, why are Mirabelles so beloved? In order to understand, let me paint a bigger picture for you.
Metz was founded as Divodurum by the Romans, and quickly became rich due to its grapes and the wine that those grapes made. Divodurum prospered for a while, until it didn’t. During the Year of the Four Emperors in 69 AD, the pretender emperor Vitellius inexplicably sacked the city, massacring its citizens. The Franks invaded in the 3rd Century AD- and the city was sacked and destroyed again by Attila the Hun in 451. Metz slowly recovered, and soon prospered once more: as long as humans lust, there will always be a market for grapes and wine.
Metz then proceeded to survive the middle ages through many sieges, battles, and attacks, but happened upon incredibly tough times in the 1800s: the city fell to the Germans in 1870, and a horrible infesting pest called the grape phylloxera destroyed the region’s grapes. Throughout history, when you lose a major source of your economic prowess, as well as a major crop, a few things generally occur: famine, recession, and poverty. A replacement for the grape was necessary to quell these horrors from being realized upon Metz, as well as Lorraine as a whole; and so, a small yellow plum from Anatolia was imported, where it thrived in the conditions of Lorraine, particularly in Metz and Nancy. Mirabelle quite literally means “looks beautiful”, if you take the etymology of the word; while there is no definitive evidence of why it was named this, I like to think it looked beautiful to the people of Lorraine, as a savior to the destruction of the grape vines and as a beacon of hope in a time of perennial darkness.
Thus it began: every year, around the time of the Mirabelle harvest, Metz would have a festival dedicated to the crop. Rows and rows of tents filled the local park in Metz, and a concert pavilion was constructed to hold singing events; carnival games were set up, food stands were propped up, and the festivities commenced. In the tents, you could buy an assortment of goods: pretzels, wines, juices, and arts and crafts such as handcrafted bird boxes, watercolor paintings, and comic displays; but most of all, you could buy almost anything Mirabelle based that you could think up. There was Mirabelle beignets, Mirabelle cola, Mirabelle gummies, Mirabelle candies, Mirabelle jam, Mirabelle juice, Mirabelle cakes, Mirabelle ice cream, and just about anything else you could imagine that Mirabelles could be used in: there was a stand specializing in Mirabelle fusion into Guinean food; there were Mirabelle floats twice the size of any man; but most of all, there were people proud of their city, celebrating themselves and their heritage through the means of the small yellow plum that not so long ago gave hope to the people of Metz.
Just as peaches represent Atlanta, Mirabelles represent Metz, and this longstanding tradition only epitomizes what my peers and I have come to learn: even the smallest of cities can have the biggest of hearts. So whether you’d like to call it the Green City, Garden City, City of the Dragon, or City of Mirabelles, one thing is for certain: we at GT-Europe are all lucky to call Metz home.