#Montrachet

[contremineur]

Alvina Pernot, vigneronne in Puligny-Montrachet

from here

[asgoodeasgold]

Who needs words when you have hands. Matthew Goode being his zestful, exuberant and adorable self on The Wine Show. Happy weekend everyone❣️ 📷 The Wine Show s1:06 my edits

And here is the same portrait with a different background, just for the fun of it.

[enibas22]

from illuminatrix_dops - 1st March 2023

@ashleybarrondop - “can we arm a fixture over the dome..?” 👉👉 see the rest of the scene’s frames lit by a @molerichardson #molebeam flew in from @arri Germany and @asteraofficial for eye lights. We weren’t allowed haze in there so we never got that shaft of light but @jodiemdavidson got us in a direction. From E5 of @dangerousliaisons

[menubot]

Welcome to 1968! Why not enjoy some Chassagne Montrachet (Charles Deroy) 1961 at St. James Restaurant Ltd? http://menus.nypl.org/menus/26373

[irontrashglitter]

my sleep paralysis demon is pascal de valmont seducing the wrong woman by mistake

[liminal-zone]

holy shit, that is niccolò capponi (who owns the Palazzo Capponi featured in both the book and film Hannibal)

Vera Dal 1926

Vera Dal 1926 is a fine foods store that Bedelia tends to visit throughout Antipasto. Each time she says the same thing: “Due bottiglie di Bâtard-Montrachet e li tartufibianchi, per favore.”

The name of the store - “Vera Dal 1926” - means “Real Since 1926.” What she orders translates to: “Two bottles of Bâtard-Montrachet (a wine) and white truffles, please.” x

Vera Dal 1926 is first mentioned in Hannibal Chapter 25. It is a fine food store in Florence that Hannibal Lecter frequents under the guise of Dr. Roman Fell. Batard-Montrachet is first mentioned in Hannibal Chapter 42 as a wine that Hannibal Lecter is prone to consistently buying. Especially from Vera Dal 1926 with some tartufibianchi - which are simply white truffles. Clarice Starling notes this after acquiring his receipts from his time-spent in Florence.

In Hannibal book: “Here were Dr Lecter’s personal papers from the Palazzo Capponi. A few notes on Dante in his familiar handwriting, a note to the cleaning lady, a receipt from the Florentine fine grocer Vera dal 1926 for two bottles of Bâtard-Montrachet and some tartufibianchi.” Which is what Bedelia asks for–in Italian, no less–at the counter.

[owochimuwu]

Currently my online shop is selling:

- entirely undiluted versions of exfoliating acids

- the Substance

- homunculi seeded with Russian youtuber sperm

- weed cartridges with Vitamin E

- weed cartridges with added carcinogens

- home injection Botox kits for people's wrinkly dogs

- weed cartridges with no carcinogens, 97% THC

- a very good vintage of Bâtard-Montrachet

- jojoba oil

[guildofpriapus]

THANKSGIVING PAGEANT part one

The theme of this year's fundraising pageant is "HOME"

Honour

Obedience

Modesty

Elegance

All qualities the Guild holds in the highest esteem. Guild members are permitted to enter their wives, daughters and employees for this prestigious event, the prize for the three lucky winners being a luxury all expenses paid weekend at the Guild Director's luxurious secluded mountain retreat, where they can expect to meet some very special guests.

Meet some of the contenders.

[tonystark-official]

Would you happen to have any wine recommendations?

I've seen to have grown too used to mine, unfortunately.

~ @drstrangeofficial

This has been sitting in my inbox for far too long. Oops.

I quite enjoy Burgundies. If it's an option, I will always pick it. I have an aged "Chapelle de Blagney Puligney-Montrachet Premier Cru" (Semi-dry. Plus, you're not allergic to almonds, are you?) if you would like to stop by and have a few drinks. If you like it, you can take it home. I can always buy more.

[libertineangel]

The Emir of Qatar is on a state visit to the UK - and the King highlighted the Gulf state’s role in negotiations in the Gaza conflict and the return of Israeli hostages. [...]

State banquets are a centrepiece of such visits, held in the grandeur of the ballroom of Buckingham Palace, with a 4,000-piece dinner service. [...] On the menu was a tartlet of Cornish lobster and quails eggs for a starter; with pheasant wrapped in Savoy cabbage, roasted celeriac puree and potato gratin with cheese from Suffolk, truffle sauce and winter vegetables as a main course; followed by an iced bombe with organic Samoan vanilla ice cream and a Balmoral plum sorbet. Each guest had a setting of five different glasses - and for those wanting an alcoholic drink, the wine list included Chapel Down Grand Reserve 2018, Puligny-Montrachet Les Nosroyes, Domaine Genot-Boulanger 2019, Chateau Lynch-Bages, Pauillac 2000 and a Chateau La Tour Blanche.

In 2022/23 there were 7.2 million people, or 11% of the UK population, in households experiencing food poverty, including 17% of children. In 2022/23, the Trussell Trust, a charity and network of foodbanks, supplied the highest recorded number of three-day emergency food parcels. [...]

According to the Department for Work and Pensions’ (DWP) Households Below Average Income survey, in 2022/23, 7.2 million people (11%) in the UK were in food insecure households, an increase of 2.5 million people since 2021/22. Among the 11.3 million people found to be in relative poverty before housing costs, 22% were in food insecure households, including 30% of children. [...]

The DWP published statistics on food bank use for the first time in March 2023. In 2022/23, 2.3 million people in the UK lived in household which had used a food bank in the previous 12 months, a rate of 3%. This includes 6% of children, 3% of working-age adults, and around 1% of pensioners. [...]

[xeniums]

“due bottiglie di Bâtard-Montrachet e li tartufi bianchi, per favore” is my morning wish of the day

[avispatr]

" Cajun shrimp pasta, crab cakes, smoked salmon, olive spread with pita and fresh hummus, grape leaves, a bowl of greek olives stuffed with garlic, oysters, lobster, king crab, spicy tuna salad, with a greek salad with olive oil feta cheese and red wine vinegar all served with a whole bottle of Domaine Leflaive Montrachet Grand Cru."

[alfaangel]

"A table setting from the home of Dr Hannibal Lecter. The silverware is 19th-century Dutch from Christofle. The plate is Gien French china from Tiffany. The table linen is damask cotton. Also from Christofle. -You've got to hand it to the man, he has the most marvellous taste... I've discovered a pattern of purchases. An echo of the life he lived in Baltimore. -He likes music, he likes wine, he likes food and he likes you. How do you taste, Dr Bloom? Sweet, I bet. I'm sure you got a taste of him, too. Spitters are quitters, and you don't strike me as a quitter. The first step in the development of taste is to be willing to credit your own opinion. But in the areas of food and wine, I have to follow Hannibal's precedents. A receipt from a Florentine fine grocer, Vera Dal 1926, for two bottles of Bâtard Montrachet and some tartufi bianchi. And another, and another, and another. Once a week, for the last three months, a blonde woman has been making the exact same purchase. And she always pays cash.' She's shopping for Hannibal. Bravo."

[titleleaf]

On the flipside, fascinated by Will Graham’s car and all it signifies about him:

There’s a very different vibe between these vehicles even setting aside price point -- even the difference in reviews, where you're seeing stuff like "comfortable", "dependable", people talking about how good it is for doing your own repairs or for helping your friends move. Will is fully comfortable transporting stray dogs in this thing, he's using it to commute some ungodly distances so it's not a total beater, but he's not particularly interested in turning heads or in owning something that's fun to drive. I would wager Will's not this car's first owner and that he does most of his own maintenance, while Hannibal 1000% pays someone else very well to do that shit for him.

Overall show!Will's Volvo always reminds me of book!Will's real ambivalence around the Leeds' well-to-do acquisitiveness in Red Dragon.

Graham pursued Charles Leeds through the house. His hunting prints hung in the den. His set of the Great Books were all in a row. Sewanee annuals. H. Allen Smith and Perelman and Max Shulman on the bookshelves. Vonnegut and Evelyn Waugh. C. S. Forrester's Beat to Quarters was open on a table. In the den closet a good skeet gun, a Nikon camera, a Bolex Super Eight movie camera and projector. Graham, who owned almost nothing except basic fishing equipment, a third-hand Volkswagen, and two cases of Montrachet, felt a mild animosity toward the adult toys and wondered why. Who was Leeds? A successful tax attorney, a Sewanee footballer, a rangy man who liked to laugh, a man who got up and fought with his throat cut.

[fischerfrey]

A Christmas Prince; The Royal Wedding

Chapter 2: Krampus

Summary: Dawn faces difficulties with his new wedding designer while tensions boil in Alderly. The family's Christmas get-together is interrupted by a surprising visitor...

Words: 2.5k

Characters:

Dawn Harvelle and Rosa Yaxley @potionboy3

Quincey, Olympia, and Isabella Alderly

Pandora Lovelace and Lainey Bell by @gcldensnitch

Rocky Weasley by @magicallymalted

Beginning | Next Chapter

Want to read the first fic in the series, A Christmas Prince? Click here!

Chapter 2: Krampus 

“We have many preparations to do and very little time,” Rosa Yaxley said, flipping a white board showing several sketches from flower bouquets to table settings, and photographs of what Dawn assumed, were traditional Alderlian wedding attire.  

“Uh…” Dawn started but was silenced by a stern look from Pince. 

“The Bavarian orchestra will start precisely at your entrance with the release of the Barbary doves.” Rosa explained, producing a pointer stick from somewhere and demonstrating all the items she mentioned. “South African wildflowers will adorn your path down the aisle.” 

“Oh…” Dawn uttered. When the queen had said that Dawn would have a say, he hadn’t realized she had meant that she and Miss Yaxley had already planned everything and that he would just have to sit here and nod dutifully. 

Rosa continued: “I mean, you won't, and I mean it, you won't be able to take a step without a Namaqualand daisy between the floor and your shoes.” 

Dawn was beginning to really see that she didn’t particularly want to be in this position. He wondered if the queen had made her, as a punishment for her transgressions last year. 

“Hmm…” he simply said. 

“There will be a roast pig from each of Alderly's seven provinces. Montrachet Grand Cru will be in every goblet,” Rosa went on. “But of greatest importance... Is your outfit.” 

“Is that what those are for?” Dawn asked, vaguely motioning towards the pictures of clothes. The designs looked like somewhere between a mix of Bavarian and Slovenian folk clothing with something distinctly… Christmassy about them. 

“Is it customary to wear traditional dress to weddings?” 

“Not for at least a hundred years but the queen felt that it was important to show how committed to our culture and traditions you are.” 

“The queen… look,” Dawn started, and went on despite Pince’s warning glances. “I am committed. I’ve never been this committed to a goddamn thing in my entire life, but I feel like this might not go over well with the… well you know, the public.” 

“Whyever not?” Pince chimed in. 

“Well, I am a foreigner and maybe they will want to see me actually participate in their culture before taking on its symbols?” Dawn posited it as a question, but it really wasn’t. “Especially when this is just a publicity stunt, and I didn’t even pick the outfit.” 

Rosa bit her lip but Pince went on: “Nonsense, of course you will wear the traditional costume.” 

“I was really hoping that I could wear something… simple, something that’s a little more me.” 

“What?” asked Pince. 

“I mean these outfits are beautiful,” Dawn continued. “But I don’t want to play a part for my own wedding. Maybe I could wear one of these a year from now to an event where they’re actually worn in still?” 

“I don’t think you understand the sort of situation we’re in,” Pince said. “Half the country is in an uproar because we haven’t seen this kind of financial hardships since the war, not to mention their monarch is pretty much going against every strong held value they’ve been instilled with since birth.” 

“I sympathize with the depression, not so much with the homophobia,” said Dawn and noticed Rosa just barely concealing a chuckle. Maybe Dawn stood a chance after all. 

~ 

“This protocol is driving me crazy. It's like Bridezilla in reverse,” Dawn complained later in a video call to Rocky and Pandora. 

“Forgive me if I don't ooze sympathy from the night security desk of Noodle Chalet's corporate office,” said Rocky. Ever since the downfall of Beat Now, Rocky had been a security guard at Noodle Chalet, and it wasn’t lost on Dawn how his problems might probably seem somewhat quaint. 

“Hey, at least you've got a job,” Pandora chimed in. “I've been living with my parents for the last three months.” 

“Well, that’s tragic,” said Rocky. 

“Yeah, ever since Now Beat shut down.” 

“Now Beat?” asked Dawn. “It was Beat Now.” 

Dawn was happy he was no longer working for Kerry Crouch, but he couldn’t help but miss having a normal job and normal problems. Especially with Irma Pince breathing down his neck at every turn. 

“Whatever,” said Pandora with a shrug. “It’s gone now.” 

“But Dawn, you’re having some royal pains?” asked Rocky. 

Dawn chuckled. It was a pain just to be one, it seemed. “Well yeah, but I mean…”  

“Have you talked to Quincey about any of this?” Pandora cut in. 

“I haven’t seen him today.” 

“They know how to keep a king busy,” Rocky said. 

Dawn knew things were going to be busy, but he truly felt alone in the castle. He wasn’t even allowed to spend time with Tess and his dad, or at least not as much as he would have preferred. He was a little bit worried that this was how the rest of his life was going to look. Just protocol and event after event with only small respites in-between to actually hang out with his husband-to-be. He’d next be seeing Quincey when they all headed to town for his speech, and he didn’t expect there to be a lot of time for chit-chat. 

“Just hurry up and get here already,” he said. 

“Counting down the seconds, mate,” Pandora said. 

~ 

Rosa had left Dawn with a folder full of designs for the wedding. Dawn flipped through it, examining the plans with growing dread. This whole ordeal didn’t feel at all like a wedding he would want for himself. Not that he had ever thought about getting married before this past year. He almost wished he and Quincey had just eloped. He’d rather have Elvis marry them in Vegas than whatever this was shaping up to be. Dawn slammed the folder shut and let it fall on the bed. He was going to have to complain to someone who would understand, or he’d end up committing arson. Or worse. 

~ 

When Dawn went looking for Olympia later, he found her in the middle of an argument with her mother, the queen. 

“You must understand that his whole thing is frivolous,” Isabella was saying. 

“Well mother, it’s important to me so I don’t particularly care.” 

“This is about the image we portray to the world,” Isabella tried. “A princess can’t be an actress.” 

“I was in many plays as a child.” 

“That was different.” 

“This is for a good cause.” 

“It doesn’t matter. You know what kind of situation we’re in with your past actions and your brother’s life choices.” 

“It’s not a life choice.” 

Isabella sighed. “You know what I meant.” 

“No, I don’t, and I’m also doing the play, I don’t care what you think.” 

“Don’t you speak to me with that tone, young lady.” 

Dawn, suddenly realizing he was quite rudely eavesdropping, stepped into the room, fully pretending as if he hadn’t been listening. “Oh, hello Your Majesty, Your Highness.” 

“Dawn, great timing, mother was just about to wring my neck,” said Olympia. 

“Olympia–,” the queen attempted. 

“I have to talk to you Dawn, if you don’t mind,” Olympia said and walked up to Dawn, grabbing his arm. “Preferably somewhere away from her…” 

“Alright…” said Dawn, casting an apologetic glance at Queen Isabella. They had their differences, but Dawn was determined to get along with his mother-in-law.  

~ 

Olympia led him to a smaller room, let go of his arm and dramatically fell into one of the priceless antique armchairs. 

“What was that about?” Dawn asked. 

“She thinks it’s common to do the play.” 

“Oh, of course she does.” 

“But I’m still going to do it,” Olympia continued. “I can’t wait for you to see it, it’s kind of like an arthouse reimagining.” 

“Oh, wow, alright,” said Dawn.  

“You could come see the dress rehearsal?” 

“If I can get away from my own dress rehearsals…”  

“Right, how’s that going, anyway?” Olympia asked and sat up straight. She had messed up her hair, slumping onto the chair. 

“Well… It’s going.” 

“You let me know if you need any help.” 

Dawn knew he needed all the help he could get, but after hearing the conversation between Olympia and the queen, he wasn’t sure it was the best idea to rope Olympia into it. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you, O.” 

~ 

That afternoon, the royal retinue made its way to town. Quincey’s speech took place in front of Alderly’s House of Parliament and the square in front of it was packed. Aside from the adoring crowd, though, there was a smaller but no less attention-grabbing group of protesters behind them. Dawn, ever the journalist, kept an eye on them. They were holding signs proclaiming the bad financial situation in the country and demanding to be paid or get their jobs back. Miss Pince, standing next to Dawn, was glaring at the crowd with hostility, when Quincey took to the podium. While many cheered, waving Alderlian flags, the protesters booed. Dawn shifted his weight from one foot to another uncomfortably. 

“Behind me stands an enduring symbol of Alderly's historical strength. Before me, and all of us, lies our current revitalization project, a symbol of Alderly's shining future,” Quincey started. From Pince’s sudden shift in posture, Dawn deduced that the speech was written by her.  

“For crops to flourish, rain must fall. Likewise, today's temporary hardships will soon spur on a bountiful future for all.” 

Amongst the cheers, Dawn heard someone shout out: “What about our jobs?” 

“The country's going broke!” 

“Shame on the king!” 

Security had to step in to rein in the protesters. Quincey couldn’t have missed the incident, but he continued like he had, as Dawn was sure he had been instructed to do. 

“A new Alderlian chapter is about to begin. And I'm honoured and excited to share that journey with each and every one of you. I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a prosperous New Year.” 

~ 

After Quincey got off the stage, Lainey offered him a bottle of water. 

“Thank you.” 

“That went… alright,” she said. At least she was honest.

“I feel like a total fraud reading out that propaganda,” Quincey said with a sigh. 

“Your ideas make perfect sense,” said Lainey. “I just don't understand why they're not working.” 

“Neither do I.” 

Dawn, pained by Quincey’s tired and slightly pathetic expression and sick of not knowing the details of this initiative, piped in: “When numbers don't add up, there's usually a reason.” 

Quiney and Lainey turned to him, and Dawn continued: “I’m going to be prince consort, I want to contribute, that’s why I’m coming to the meeting tomorrow.”  

“The queen said you would be exceedingly busy with wedding preparations so you wouldn’t be able to make it,” said Lainey. 

Dawn and Quincey exchanged looks and said almost in unison: “What?” 

“We should be doing everything we can to help the kingdom, right?” Dawn asked. 

“Absolutely.” 

“Maybe there should be a revitalization effort to bring the royal family into the 21st century, too…” 

That’s when Pince came back, saying: “An excellent speech, Your Majesty. Now I need you to come meet the press with your most confident smiles…” 

~ 

After returning to the palace, Dawn, Quincey, and Olympia had tea with the queen. It was an exceedingly uncomfortable hour to top off an exceedingly uncomfortable event. 

“The press office assures me your speech today will do a world of good,” said Isabella from across the table. 

“Less than a year into my reign,” Quincey started. “I feel like I'm running the kingdom into the ground.” 

“Oh, you put much too much pressure on yourself.” 

“It's my initiative, mother.” 

“Quentin,” said the queen. “As you know, your father first proposed the need for such a program, but I oversaw the implementation, with the country’s full backing.” 

“Yes, but…” 

“Economic fluctuation is a fact of life,” Isabella stated and set her teacup back on its settee. 

“Yes, but I can't help but feel father would be disappointed.” 

“Oh, nonsense! You mustn't let this put a strain on the season. Or the wedding,” said Isabella and turned her attention to Dawn. “I hear the stress has been getting to you.” 

Olympia took a deep breath and said: “Can we not have a single conversation without it being observed and reported?” 

“Darling,” said the queen, laying a hand on her daughter's arm. Olympia withdrew, annoyed. “I just want all of you to be happy.” 

“Well, it would help if you stopped meddling into our business,” Olympia suggested, clearly running out of patience. “We’re all adults here, after all.” 

Isabella sighed. “I’ve decided to resume my active role in the governing of this country. In particular to help with the financial difficulties.” 

“What?” asked Olympia. Quincey didn’t say anything and had an unreadable expression on his face. Dawn still felt too out of the loop with the country’s goings-on to say anything. 

“But you seemed happy to retire?” argued Olympia. 

“Only because I found it too difficult to go on without your father,” Isabella explained. 

“Mother…” Quincey finally spoke up. “Thank you.” 

~ 

That evening, everyone gathered together to decorate Queen Isabella’s Christmas tree. Dawn and Quincey’s families all sitting together in the same room gave Dawn some kind of whiplash. He never imagined this would be his life. While Tess and Olympia chose matching baubles, Dawn sat next to Quincey on the couch closest to the fireplace and took his hand. Ever since the speech, he’d been in low spirits and Dawn couldn’t exactly blame him. 

“Hi,” he said. 

“Hi,” replied Quincey. “I feel like I should apologize.” 

“For what?” asked Dawn. 

“For making you feel left out.” 

“Am I feeling left out?” asked Dawn, incredulously. 

“Are you?” 

“Well, a little.” 

“The pressures I'm facing as king are no excuse. Can you forgive me?” 

“I really would like to help.” 

Quincey smiled and squeezed Dawn’s hand. “Mother’s help will come in handy; she has a few decades of experience on this front.” 

“Then I’m glad she’s decided to postpone her retirement.” 

Dawn wasn’t exactly sure if he was glad but if the queen’s involvement would help Quincey’s workload, then it wouldn’t be all bad. He wished he could be more of use and that he would have already started his studies in political science. He had applied immediately after realizing he was going to actually have to do some governing, but he’d been advised to postpone his enrollment by a year. He’d done a semester of it already in university during his second year, so he wasn’t a complete beginner but now he was determined to get a Master’s. He had had fun writing his blog this past year, but he wanted to do something that could do some actual good in the world. 

 Suddenly a palace aide entered the room, looking quite disheveled.  

“Your Majesties, you have a guest,” he said. 

“Whoever could it be?” wondered the queen out loud. Dawn thought it must be Krampus because who else would it be showing up to the palace and causing a ruckus at this hour.

“Oh? Send them in,” instructed Quincey and got up.

After a few moments, a man entered the room. A very familiar man whom Dawn had been looking forward to never seeing again.  

“Evander,” said Olympia venomously. “What are you doing here?”  

Krampus indeed. 

tag list: @lifeofkaze, @gcldensnitch, @endlessly-cursed, @cursed-herbalist, @magicallymalted

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