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swirlwineconsulting · 9 months ago

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The Last Supper by Phillip Smeeton

Spring Forward to Wines for Easter and Passover

It is no wonder that Easter and Passover often occur so close together, even overlap in some years during the seven days Passover is observed in Israel and the eight days elsewhere among the Jewish diaspora. After all, the Last Supper was, in fact, a Seder. Redemption and salvation are the central themes of the Judeo-Christian ties between these highest of holy days. I was blessed to experience the breadth of these themes growing up in a blended family of Catholics and Sephardic Jews, hearing the stories and eating the food. The relationship is reflected not just on the calendar; but in the meals partaken by observers at either or both tables. So much is shared in common, except of course, pork, leavened bread, shellfish and mixing dairy and meat; but that’s a different story. Wine was at the center of each meal, especially for early Christians for whom it was safer than the local water to drink.

Let’s design a list of wine pairings to bridge the gap-satisfy most palates without bending too many “kashrut” rules. For Passover you need Kosher wines, wines made by Sabbath-observant Jews with no non-kosher additives used in the process. Kosher status is typically denoted by the letter U or K in a circle, with a P in superscript. “Mevushal” wines are flash-pasteurized so they can be handled by non-observant folks yet remain kosher. At Seder each adult will sip from four cups of wine, representing the redemption of the Israelites from Egyptian slavery. A fifth cup is left unconsumed and reserved for the prophet Elijah. I like to propose five or six wines, to keep things interesting. Those celebrating the Resurrection of Christ can pair one wine with each course; serve one white and one red or stick with Welch’s-no judgement here.

So feel free to pass on the Manischewitz, my suggestions, like champagne, go with everything and will pair well with carrot tzimmes for Passover as well as that ubiquitous spiral cut ham on Easter. For starters- Champagne Drappier-The Drappier family tree can be traced back to1604. Since 2016, the eighth generation of the Drappier family incorporates animals and nature preservation, ploughing parts of the organically-farmed vineyard by horse and earning “Carbon Neutral” accreditation. Drappier estate creates a wide array of Pinot Noir based demi-sec to extra brut cuvees, including “sans soufre” or zero dosage (added sugar), zero sulphur added bottlings, all delicious.

For the meal-Psagot Rosé is a blend of red varietals harvested from vineyards in the Northern Jerusalem Mountains. It is a beautiful salmon colored, dry wine with aromas of pink grapefruit and lemon zest. Psagot Edom is a well-rounded proprietary Bordeaux blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Cabernet Franc, and Petit Verdot. Balanced and harmonious, it has a rich and wide structure with layered flavors and aromas. Ditch the mint jelly and pair this with a garlicky roasted leg of lamb or braised lamb shanks for Seder or Easter dinner. Check Total Wine for the wines listed above, quickly as they sell out fast this time of year.

Not all kosher wines are made in Israel and not all wines made in Israel are kosher. Ask your local merchant for recommendations. Other kosher producers that I like include Tulip, Flam and Teperberg…wineries that make wonderful wines from Israel to round out your kosher friendly list. For further biblical references, I turn to Palestine and Armenia for non-kosher but relevant selections. Cremisan Wine Estate sits on the West Bank of Palestine overlooking Bethlehem, in a monastery established in 1885 by Italian Monks making an array of wines using organically grown, auctochthonous, Palestinean grapes. Star of Bethlehem Dabouki is a super crisp white wine which smashed my misconceptions of winemaking in what I presumed was a day and night hot desert. This delightful wine has all the hallmarks of a moderate to cool climate - clean, stone fruit, tropical fruit notes and beautifully balanced minerality and acidity. Cremisan was the first winery to produce wines from local Palestinian grapes and to test their genetic analysis to confirm which are native to Palestine. The main varietals grown there are Dabouki, Hamdani, Jandali, Baladi, along with Cabernet Sauvignon, Viognier, Petit Verdot and Merlot. They created a unique distillery made of copper, from which Cremisan has produced a brandy now aged for 35 years in oak barrels. In 2020 Cremisan also started to make a unique traditional Arak from 53% Dabouki grapes.

The bible tells us that Noah’s Ark rested upon Mount Ararat, part of which lies in present day Armenia, where Noah planted grapes to celebrate the survival of humanity (my guess is that the animals were also grateful). Rich in historical and biblical references, Armenia is reviving its claim as one of the oldest wine growing regions in the world (Georgia and China argue otherwise; but again, that’s another story). Armenia was also home to one of the worst cases of genocide in the 20th century (please look it up, we should know these things).

My first encounter with Armenian wines took place in Montreux, Switzerland where I met winemaker Zorik of Zorah winery, who returned to Armenia after years in Italy to uncover the history and secrets of more than 6,000 years of winemaking that had been all but wiped out during Soviet rule. Zorik salvaged old vineyards, researched and collected amphora to recreate that rich history which now represents the pinnacle of his now highly prized and allocated wines.

American, Paul Hobbs journeyed from fame as a Napa Valley golden child in the ‘90’s to Argentina, then Cahors, France then further east to create Yacoubian-Hobbs, a collaboration with the Yacoubian brothers in 2008. Reviving such ancient varietals as: Voskehat -or "golden berry" the emblematic white variety of Armenia; Khatuni; Qrdi and Garan Demakor "sheep's tail". I adore the white blend and the red Yacoubian-Hobbs Sarpina of 100% Areni from the southern highlands. I felt like I’d encountered the burning bush in the desert that told me that I had found home. The flavors are like a Burgundian style Pinot blended with St. Joseph Syrah, satiny dark fruit aromas with muddled strawberries, blackberries, pomegranate, black cherries, black pepper, anise and bourbony vanilla.

There is so much to unpack here in the delta where Christianity and Judaism cross paths. So much history and so much yet to be discovered. What better place to start this discovery than at the table? Happy Easter and Chag Pesach Sameach!

#wineeducation #winetasting #winelover #easterwines #passoverwines

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kileyassists · 11 months ago

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Fine Napa Cabernet Sauvignon From High On Spring Mountain

Savor the elegance of our carefully crafted Napa Cabernet Sauvignon, grown high on Spring Mountain. Discover the beauty of every sip.

#napavalleywines #napavalleylife #napacabernetsauvignon #napawinecountry #mountainwinery

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sppock · 1 year ago

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Fine Napa Cabernet Sauvignon From High On Spring Mountain Savor the elegance of our carefully crafted Napa Cabernet Sauvignon, grown high on Spring Mountain. Discover the beauty of every sip.

#napavalleylife #winetastingexperience #napacabernetsauvignon #springmountainwine

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dobengal · 1 year ago

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Fine Napa Cabernet Sauvignon From High On Spring Mountain Indulge in the exquisite taste of our Fine Napa Cabernet Sauvignon, sourced from the breathtaking heights of Spring Mountain. Cheers to an unforgettable experience.

#napavalleywines #napawinelovers #cabernetsauvignonlover

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newhiteswinton · 2 years ago

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Ice Palace

The Woman writes propped up on her bony elbows in modified Child’s Pose, left cheekbone resting on a soft fist, belly and breasts pressed against her lap, ankle-socked feet crossed beneath her hovering pelvis. She relaxes her weight into the Earth so as to not fly away. She is in Love. She anchors herself. Once upon a time she confused a Man for an anchor. He read her photography column and reposted her essays on art theory. She gifted him her favorite red wine when they met for a cavern river tour with their families. They made plans to bring their families to the lake for a vacation. In the Spring the Woman asked for a divorce. In the Summer she met the Man in an expensive resort in the mountains with their spouses and children. From the empty bed she messaged the Man: I wish we could cuddle. The Man messaged her back: be right over. The Woman pulled the covers over her head to think about how it would happen. The twins are out for a morning walk on the beach with their father. There is a knock on the door. The Woman’s heart skips a beat. She flies from the bed and glances into the full length mirror as she opens the door. The Man looks at her. He takes her into his arms. The door closes on its own behind him. They have never been alone together. Take me for a walk today. He hides his Valentine in one of the books in her bookcase. The clue is: Ice Palace. She watercolors him a still life of an Anaïs Nin book beside a cut passion fruit. He stencils the words Stranger In Moscow on a black T-shirt for her. She listens to Sufjan Stevens from an antique bathtub in a first floor apartment and drinks Cabernet Sauvignon and cries. The Woman pushes up into Cat-Cow. Her body buzzes with electricity as she breathes deep and fast on each inhale and exhale. She opens her heart to the Earth, lifts her eyes to the Heavens, and arching her back conjures primal fire in the luminous night. She soars above the day-glow of the snowy yard and the shadowy evergreen tops.

(Ice Palace • 2023)

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haybug1 · 5 years ago

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Wine of the Day: Barnett Vineyards Rattlesnake Cabernet Sauvignon You know that feeling when you enter a steakhouse and immediately smell the meaty aromas of grilling steaks, or the mouthwatering appeal of garlic and onions grilling in a pan, preparing to be married with fresh tomatoes and herbs, or the pleasure of taking in the aromas of a truly spectacular wine just before enjoying that first sip of deliciousness.

#Whattodrinknow #wineoftheday #Barnett Vineyards #Cabernet Sauvignon #Napa wine #Spring Mountain

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delicatelyherdreams · 5 years ago

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Pragma(tic) 3: Her Head Aches

Pairing: Persephone!Bucky Barnes x Hades!Reader

Summary: In a world where the old gods never truly died, you must learn to navigate your way through the ups and downs of immortality. And if living forever wasn’t hard enough, an ancient evil is now threatening to break free after centuries of silence. And as if that still wasn’t hard enough for you, now a pesky and infuriatingly handsome god is trying to wedge his way into your life. Gods, work, love, and conflict—what more could a goddess need? [Hades & Persephone AU]

Word Count: 3758

Warnings: Language

Pragma(tic) Masterlist

Previous 2: He Becomes a Trespasser

Landing on your front stoop once more, you felt thoroughly exhausted and exasperated. You’d used all the energy you had stored for dealing with the living and you weren’t going to need to interact with anyone outside of the Underworld for a year or two at that point. Brunch had been nice, but then dealing with that James? Oh boy, were you spent!

You still couldn’t believe he’d been stupid enough to come down to the Underworld. You’d heard of mortals and younger gods being naive, but that was a whole new level of idiocy. And for what? A simple ruby?

You heaved a labored sigh and turned to look over your kingdom. You hadn’t gotten the chance to reapply any spells to your father’s cage in your mad dash to save the young prince of spring, and now it was just another thing to do on your list. Gods, that incident had really screwed up your schedule.

From your spot on the mountain, you could see two figures making a beeline through the Asphodel Meadows from Tartarus: a large dog and a woman. The woman was running frantically, keeping pace with the dog.

Your stomach plummeted. Crap. You’d forgotten you’d sent Cerberus to get Peggy. They’d probably gone back to the cave and didn’t find you there. You could only imagine how worried they were when you were missing.

Peggy and Cerberus quickly scaled the steep steps that led up to your mansion, the elevation and distance being nothing to them.

Peggy barely stopped in front of you and she grabbed onto your wrists, lifting them up to inspect your body. “Are you alright?” she asked, her voice coated in her British accent (she’d spent quite a bit of time in London from the 1920s to the 1940s and the accent had stuck and never left). Her brown eyes scanned every detail of your face, checking for any traces of golden ichor.

You let her do her work, simply nodding your head and saying, “I’m fine, Peggy.”

“When Cerberus came barging into my home without you… I thought he’d gotten you.”

You shook your head. “My father would have a hell of a time corrupting me, Peg. No, what had happened was some idiotic god wandered down here and had gotten stuck in Tartarus. The spirits had him and I’d thought something bigger was going on. That’s why I sent Cerberus for you. But nothing is the matter. I dealt with it.”

“Some god?” Her brows furrowed. “But how would he have—” She narrowed her eyes. “The Dikteon Cave.”

“Bingo.”

“But I’d thought we’d closed the rift the best we could and layered on protection warrants.”

“We did,” you confirmed. “But gods, if they’re determined enough, can still slip in.”

“What did he want?”

“A ruby. Probably to amaze and impress some girl.” You rolled your eyes and waved your hand dismissively. “But I took care of him. Sent him home to his chaperones and gave him the chastising of his life. He won’t be back any time soon.”

Peggy nodded, her gaze shifting from you to the cave on the other side of your kingdom. “Did you get a chance to…?”

“No. I need to go do that now.”

“Do you want me to come too?”

“No. You can stay here. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be coming back shortly after for a drink.”

She couldn’t stop the snicker that fell from her lips. “Something strong?”

“Nah. Probably just some wine mixed with nectar. Can you crack out the 1918 Cabernet Sauvignon for me? I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Of course. Just promise me you won’t drink the whole bottle this time?”

“Ah, I can’t do that, Peg.” You gave her a sly smile. “After dealing with my sisters, an imbecile, and my father, I might just need to get wasted. But that’s why I have you; to make sure I don’t do anything stupid.”

“Mhmm. Sure. Come on, Cerberus,” she said, beckoning your dog to follow her into your house.

He followed after her, his tail wagging with excitement at the idea of hanging out with Aunt Peggy.

As the door closed behind them, you descended the staircase to the ground at the foot of the mountain and made your way over to the cave. Your bident materialized in your hand as you went, driving the spirits away from you.

Tartarus was as cold as ever, making you shiver and goosebumps rise up on your skin. It was empty and evil and it made your heart spasm, but you had to go on. You made your way through the cave, following the tunnel until it opened up. The pit sat in the middle of the chasm; wide, expansive, deep, and extensive. The Phlegethon ran down into it, illuminating the walls of the pit until it was swallowed up by nothingness. You never liked to get too close to the edge, so you stood a good five feet away. Staring down into the pitch-black beneath you, you thought you could almost make out the bottom, but you knew that was impossible. It was too deep to see the bottom from up there.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You had a task to do, and nothing was going to distract you from completing it.

You began to mumble spells in a tongue so dead that you barely remembered the meaning of the words you spoke. It was the language of the first titans, taught to you by your mother. The words coming out of your mouth conveyed your wishes to bind, to entrap, to keep, and to lock away. They came from the ancient magic you had used when you sealed your father away the first time.

Your voice trickled down into the pit, the power it held no doubt soaring to the cage your father lay trapped in and strengthening, replacing, and adding to the protection around it. It wouldn’t take more than five seconds for your spells to reach their destination. You could always tell when they started to work because someone would answer.

Sure enough, a cold chuckle echoed out of the pit and a snide voice said, “Well, if it isn’t my favorite daughter. You’re a bit late today, aren’t you? Did something happen? Are you finally going soft on me?” His tone was mocking and not concerned in the least bit.

You stiffened but continued to murmur your spells. You hated it when he tried to talk to you. It only distracted you, but you knew that was his goal. He always tried to disrupt your enchantments in hopes that he could weaken his cage.

Deep, booming laughter rang out of the pit, shaking the cave ever so slightly. “Why do you never talk to me, my daughter? It’s so lonely down here. If you insist on seeing me so often, you might as well make conversation.”

Ignore him.

You closed your eyes, blocking out everything other than the rituals you performed, muttering those words that had become second nature to you, trying to hurry up and finish. The sooner you could get out of there, the better.

“How was your day? I heard a commotion coming from the cave earlier. Were the spirits finally rebelling against you? Have you lost your touch?”

You exhaled sharply.

“How is your mother doing? She never visits me. My darling, traitorous wife, who decided she loved her children more than me. Speaking of them, how are my other daughters? Are they reveling in the kingdom they stole from my brothers and me?” You could feel the malice in his words. There was always malice and hatred when he talked about you, your mother, and your sisters. He despised you with every ounce of his being, though he would always claim differently.

“You know, my love, if you were to release me, I could do so much for you. I never hated you. I was only afraid of you. You were destined to overthrow me and I couldn’t let that happen. That’s why I had to eat you. But I’m so sorry. If you were to set me free, I could be the father you always wanted. I know you, (y/n). I heard all your cries and pleading. I know you only wanted a father; know you wanted me to be a father for you. I know you wanted us to be a family. We can be that now. All you have to do is stop with your spells and set me free. You can do it. I know you can. I can give you all the love you craved. Just let me go.”

You refused, your voice growing in volume and intensity.

His anger rose from the pit, trying to grasp onto you. “Let me go! Release me!” He was done with bargaining for the day, turning to demanding and threatening. “I will kill you, (y/n). You’ll see. One day I will get out of here and when I do, you will be the first to feel my wrath. I will lock you in my cage, torment you with your failure, and keep you imprisoned for all eternity. You will never have known pain like the pain I will give to you.”

Blah blah blah.

You’d heard it all before, and, frankly, it was getting old.

You finished your spell, casting the last enchantment and finishing with your weekly ritual.

You could hear Kronos groan as his restraints tightened. You took a deep breath and leaned forward, looking over the edge and staring into the pit, a satisfied smile on your face. “Not today, old man,” you whispered before turning your back to him and walking out of the cave towards your mansion.

Peggy was sitting on a long couch in the lounge that sat just right of the entryway. Black furniture adorned the room with a single crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling, casting light over the space. A long black couch faced a wall of windows that overlooked Elysium. A low black coffee table which sat in the middle of the room acted as the focal point for a comfy armchair you had picked up decades ago and still loved, the long black couch, and a fireplace that burned with red flames on the other wall in the room. A wine glass filled with red wine that was tinted with the unmistakable gold of nectar sat on the coffee table and a large television was mounted to the wall above the fireplace. It was on low, a mortal sitcom of sorts playing. You couldn’t be bothered to learn its name, and it seemed that Peggy only had it on for background noise. Her attention was otherwise diverted to the dog whose head was on her lap.

She rubbed at his ears absently, only looking up when you closed the front door behind you. Her brows were creased and her lips taut with worry. “Are you alright?” she asked again, like she did every time you came home from the pit.

“Will be after a drink.” You took a seat in your armchair and reached forward for the glass of wine on the coffee table. The glass was chilled against your fingertips—you always did like your drinks “as cold as your heart”—and you lifted it up to your lips. The sweet taste of nectar mixed with rich wine filled your mouth and you swallowed it eagerly.

Peggy eyed you with a sharp laugh. “If you’re not careful, the other gods might think you’re an alcoholic.”

“Meh, they’ve had two thousand years to call me one. If they haven’t done it by now, they won’t ever do it.” You sighed and shifted in your chair, shrugging your shoulders and straightening up. “Now, do you want to hear about my day or not?”

She snickered, only resting her elbow on the arm of the couch and her chin in the palm of her hand. “Sure. You tell me all about your day. How’re your sisters?”

“Same as always,” you said with a fond smile. “Carol is still pretending to be the eldest and is still a great queen, Nat is still a smart ass but great. They’re still my family.”

“Mhmm. And, now will you tell me a bit about this god that got into Tartarus. You said he used the Dikteon Cave?”

“Yeah.” You scoffed. “James, god of spring. Demeter’s kid.”

“Demeter? (y/n), she has a real name you know. It’s Win—”

“Winnifred,” you finished. “Yeah, I know. He corrected me too.” You shrugged. “But, frankly, I don’t give a damn. If it pisses her off to call her Demeter, then great. It’s not like she’s going to hate me less for calling her by her real name.”

You and Winnifred went way back. She was almost as old as you were but fell short by just a century or two. She was the goddess of agriculture and the harvest and pretty much the protector of all life. She was kind to most of the Olympians; strict and stern if anything, but kind nonetheless. She was usually polite so long as you were kind back, but she was also really protective of her charges and plants. Naturally, she hated you. Why wouldn’t she? You were the goddess of the Underworld; you oversaw anything and everything death related. She blamed you exclusively for the death of her plants and all the life on earth (despite your attempts to explain to her that you were not the goddess of death and instead just ran the Underworld and those who were actually dead). She seemed to believe that you were pure evil and had a personal vendetta against her. She hated you.

You didn't care much for her either. Ever since she decided it was your fault that plants died and harvests were bad, she’d been nothing but a bitch to you. You were not one to take anybody’s shit without a fight and so you weren’t the nicest back to her. But if she was hell-bent on being on your bad side and treating you poorly, then you weren’t going to bend over backward to be nice to her. If she was going to be mean, you were going to be mean back. After all, you shouldn’t have to deal with that. You were a queen, one of the original three gods, and she was just some second-generation goddess with a fragile ego that was easily threatened.

“Anyways,” Peggy said, diverting the conversation away from Demeter and turning it back to her son, “you found him at Tartarus and kicked him out?”

You nodded. “I also might’ve threatened him, but that’s beside the point.”

“You what?”

You laughed as you looked around the room for the bottle of wine. Your glass had run empty and you wanted some more. You spotted it back on the rack and held out your hand in its direction. Moving on its own accord, it plucked itself from the rack and floated into your waiting hand. You uncorked it and began to pour yourself another glass. “Relax. You know I’d never follow through with it. Torture is so not my style. I just scared the kid. Whatever the case, I think I did the trick. Hopefully, he’ll never come back. But now we’ve got a perimeter issue on our hands.” You brought your glass to your lips and tilted your head back, taking another sip. “He got in way too easily. Some of our charms must be wearing off. We’re going to have to redo those. If something as menial as a young god can get in, then who knows what else can.”

“You’re not thinking…?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “The remaining titans—Helios, Atlas, Epimetheus, among others—they’re either loyal to us or trapped in their own special prisons. But who knows?” Your brows knit together. “One day they might decide that they wanna break their fathers out of jail and mine right along with them. One day they might decide that they’re above the gods, rebel, break out of prison, set the old titans free.” Your lips formed a thin line and your hand tightened into a fist. “They’re stronger than gods, they could break in through the cave easier.”

“So what do you plan on doing?”

“I dunno. More charms. New charms?” You snickered to yourself and looked out towards Elysium. “Maybe pull some of the old warriors from paradise to be on guard duty if they want it. Just imagine it: arming a bunch of dead guys with weapons from their time and putting them in armor. Ha! The old guys would get a hoot out of that.”

Peggy hummed with a smile. “Yes, I could imagine old Magnus from the Roman era and Eddie from 1942 pairing up together for guard duty. Frankly, I think the men would enjoy a little spice in life. I’d ask them if they’d be willing. It might throw any intruders off their rhythm if they were met with a small militia of ghosts.”

You stared at her, your eyebrows raised and an amused smile playing on your lips. “Did you just reference John Mulaney?”

“Well, I suppose I did.” She smirked at you. “You’re not the only one who can make pop culture references.”

You chuckled. “I guess you’re right.”

She opened her mouth to make another comment, but she was cut off by a thud overhead. The impact of something hitting the roof rattled the chandelier, causing the crystals to cling together and ring out over the silence.

A slow smile crept over your lips and you leaned back in your chair. “It seems we have a visitor, Peg.”

She nodded, a smile to match yours taking over her own face. “He’s never here at this time. He must want something.”

You snorted. “Yeah, no joke.”

Knuckles rapped against the front door, the visitor’s way of asking for entry.

“It’s open!” you called, turning your torso to face the door.

It swung open to reveal a taller man, with brown hair, a slight stubble, and blue eyes that sparkled with mischief. He was dressed in dark pants and a tight black, short sleeve shirt with arm-guards strapped to his forearms. A quiver of arrows and a bow were slung haphazardly across his back. He wore a lopsided grin and tilted his head to the side. “Morning, ladies,” he said, his demeanor nothing but cheery. “D’you miss me?”

“Clint!” Peggy cheered, her smile only widening at the sight of him. “What a pleasant surprise!”

“Heya, Pegs. If I’d known you were going to be here, I would’ve brought you flowers or something.” He sauntered into the lounge and stole a seat next to her.

Cerberus barked at him, his tail wagging with excitement. He turned his head from Peggy and trotted over to Clint.

Clint’s eyes brightened at the sight of your dog. “Hey, boy! Gods, you’ve gotten so big, haven’t you?” He ran his hands through Cerberus’ fur, knotting his fingers in it and shaking his head. “I want a dog like you so badly, but Laura says no.”

You hummed. “M’sorry, Clint, but Cerberus is the only one of his kind. I don’t know of any other dogs that can grow to the size of a mountain with three heads. He’s unique, and he’s mine.” You turned your gaze down to him. “Aren’t you, boy? Aren’t you mine?”

He pulled away from Clint before dashing over to your side and plopping his head down in your lap.

Content to pet your dog and stroke his fur, you once more looked up at Clint. “Well, I like a surprise visit from our favorite messenger god as much as anybody, but I do have to ask what catastrophic event brings you to my door at this time? You never come unless you’re having trouble with a spirit or you want to use the damned for target practice. Considering the fact that it’s Pierce’s day to reap and you just got some target practice in, I’m assuming it’s neither of those; but then I have no reason for your being here.”

“You’ve got me. I’m not here for either of those reasons, but just to satisfy my curiosity.”

“About what?”

“Oh, about whether or not you kidnapped a certain god of spring.”

You sneered. “Is that what the rumors are?”

He nodded reluctantly. “Look, (y/n), I know you’re a good person and you’d probably never do something like that, but the sprites are talking and I wanted to get the story from you so I can go and squash those rumors before his mom hears them. You know that she’s not pretty when she’s angry.”

“And you know that she is practically powerless against me and is no threat.” You wrinkled your nose and rolled your eyes in a scoff. “I did not kidnap him, the idiot came down here of his own will. I rescued him from Tartarus and threw his ass out. He has no place down here and I will not tolerate trespassers, no exceptions.”

Peggy snorted.

“What?”

“No exceptions? Really?” She turned towards you and rested her chin in the palm of her hand, giving you a sympathetic smile. “Need I remind you about that Orpheus fellow?”

“Hey, that was a special case ‘cause I was feeling generous. Never again.” You shook your head. “Clint, you can go back and use your Hermes-voodoo-messenger skills to tell the nymphs and sprites and whoever that has the audacity to accuse me of kidnapping that he came down here himself and I will not be subject to false accusations and lies. Also, tell them not to gossip and spread rumors. It’s not good for the soul. I should know. I just inspected one earlier and—oof—did that soul gossip a lot.”

Clint let out a hearty chuckle. “I’ll be sure to pass the message along.” He leaned back in his seat, lifting his arms over his head in a large stretch. “Gah! How quickly do you want this message spread?”

“ASAP, Clint. I don’t want anyone thinking the borders are going soft or that they can just waltz on in and do whatever they please. That is not how I run my kingdom and that is not how I will ever run my kingdom. Peggy and I are taking certain precautions, and there will never, ever, be another invasion again.”

Next 4: His Mind Runs Wild

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wine-porn · 2 years ago

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The Last of the V8 Interceptors

A few years ago, this beloved label met its demise and huge amounts of them were dumped on the discount market. I tried basically all of them–the prices were unbelievable–and found most of them not aging gracefully. I recommended–to those of us who message each other about such findings–to purchase ONLY those with the highest amount of Cab you could find. This wine solidifies that advice, and at…

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#2000 #Bordeaux Blend #Mad Max #Meritage #Napa Valley #Napa Valley Cabernet #Soif Wine Blog #Spring Mountain #Spring Mountain cabernet #spring mountain district #Stephen McConnell Wine Blog #Steve McConnell Wine Blog #wine1percent #York Creek #York Creek Vineyards

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soymimikyu · 5 years ago

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Food in Netflix’s Series of Unfortunate Events: Season 3

It is over. I finally finished season 3 about 2 hours ago and needed the time to recover and process the ending. While I have only faint memories of the ending in the book, this ending seemed very different (and I want to say I liked it more? I just recall being let down by the way the books ended; however, I was quite young at the time...).

Here is the final set of food notes from the show. The final season was comparatively sparse, but there were some interesting culinary choices. I hope you enjoy!

(Also, since this is the final installment, if anyone enjoyed my rambling carefully curated notes on food in TV shows, I would happily take requests to do this for a different show in the future. It was fun and gave me much to think about in the kitchen.)

Today’s notes are brought to you by Glassworks - Opening played by Ólafsson (because that I what I’m listening to).

Food in The Slippery Slope

Sarsaparilla

What Olaf drinks and discards while driving. It is flat. The bottle helps Violet and Klaus determine which fork to take.

Coffee and Tea

What pretentious people drink according to Olaf

Absinthe

A random beverage that popped into Olaf’s mind.

Marshmallows

Made Brucie the Snow Scout Leader sick after eating too many.

I really want to make these! Gelatin is such a fun platform for cooking so many things! The real goal would be blooming marshmallow flowers with whiskied caramel hot chocolate!

Rutabaga

What the circus freaks plan on growing on their farm.

Hot Dogs

What Olaf’s cooks with this troupe.

Brandy Sidecar or Coffee

What Esme wants with Breakfast.

A Brandy sidecar is a cocktail of cognac, cointreau (orange flavored liqueur), and lemon juice. Sounds pretty tasty -- I think (I know next to nothing about drinks...).

Frozen Orange Juice

Found by Sunny in trunk.

She uses this to make Sorbet.

Salmon

Caught in the stricken stream by Hook-handed man and given to Sunny. She prepares Sashimi with this.

Hot Cider [X]

Quigley’s last meal with his mother. What saved him from the fire.

Canned Peaches

Quigley’s meal at Montgomery’s.

Montgomery had a lot of canned peaches (or just two cans) because the Hook handed man in season 1 is also eating canned peaches when posing as a detective. Nothing wrong with this -- canned peaches are delicious.

Poisonous Berries

Mr. Poe tries to help by finding Breakfast.

I often see poisonous berries as red in TV (I am thinking mostly of a specific seen in the Netflix Witcher series) and it made me curious if real poison berries are always red. Nope: nightshade (duh) is black, and several other harmful berries are also black/blue. Some are orange. Given the brightness of these berries I am going to guess they were Mezereon or Elderberry.

Granola Bar

Mr. Poe has these. Kit has some.

Poe always has granola bars.

Lox

Sunny’s idea for dinner

Pistachios

Lemony is saying something and thinks they are for everyone one.

Parsley Soda

What Sunny gets when she requests a fizzy drink.

Boysenberry Jam

The darkest Jam in the VFD fridge.

This really makes me want good jam or to try jamming. Roasted lamb and jam...not sure where I would easily source lamb right now and is likely to be a far greater headache than I care.

Olives

There were 5 green olives filled with pimento in the jar. It indicated the gathering was on Thursday.

Mustard

All I wrote is the last safe place. I don’t recall the details -- but it was probably a clue.

Mustard is my favorite condiment. I can (and have) eat it plain.

False spring rolls

What was prepared for a meal for Olaf’s troupe by Sunny and Hook handed man.

How did they get wraps on a mountain...maybe you can repurpose a part of a fish to use as wraps. The skin or various internal linings? Seems less appetizing / food safe.

Rutabaga (again)

What Olaf’s troupe wants to grow.

Food in The Grim Grotto

Chewing Gum

Phil only cooks meals with chewing gum.

Chewy Casserole

Chewing gum casserole.

In my experience heating gum or gummy like things often goes very poorly. You can add them towards the end of the cooking process to create some sort of layer -- but definitely not from the start.

Potato and Cod Chowder

Non-gum based meal that Sunny and Phil prepared.

Calamari

What Sunny thinks Olaf’s sonar symbol is.

I fully accept that the children are seriously smart, but where is Sunny learning all of this? Did the books have cooking books (I think so..)? I shall assume that Sunny demands to be read only cooking books as bed time stories.

Soft Pretzels

Olaf wants these. I do too -- I should make them!

Turmeric

In one of Esme’s evil laughs.

Cabernet

Olaf wants wine and gets lost in the octopus submarine looking for some. He pronounces it as Caber-NET.

Horseradish

Cure for the Medusoid Mycelium.

Taragon, Wasabi

Contents of kitchen cabinets while Sunny is sick.

The wasabi is what is used as a culinary substitute and cure. Interestingly, it is Mr. Bobby brand. Would anyone know if this has significance? Brand names in this universe are interesting.

Lemon Lime Soda, Gorgonzola Cheese, Birthday cake for Violet

Contents of the fridge while Klaus and Violet are looking for horse radish.

That is a damn impressive cake. Fondant is really well done. Can you make fondant from gum? Probably not, but Sunny is resourceful and likely found a suitable culinary substitute.

Sub Sandwich

Prepared by Hook-Handed man to delay Olaf form assisting in torturing the children.

Looks like a pretty standard sub on a softer baguette. It appeared to have sliced deli meat.

Chef Salad

Fernald’s analogy for people to emphasize that categorizing people as noble, good, bad, or evil is invalid.

Pig Eating Pork

Ok -- this one is not food, but I was amused by Olaf’s simile to describe his joy.

Food in The Penultimate Peril

The Picnic Basket

I absolutely lost my mind with this scene. We only briefly see the contents of the picnic basket as Violet removes the top layer to reveal the concierge disguises Kit prepared. I paused and replayed this seen maybe 10 times to examine what was in that top layer. I then needed to cross reference some incomplete descriptions with two large pastry books (thankfully they have an entrement section...). I feel reasonably successful:

Millefeuille [X]

This is napoleon. Adding a flavor to the custard is a great way to modernize this dessert.

Cream Puffs (Might be a profiterole) [X -- I’ve done eclairs]

Choux pastry is very forgiving and a good entry point into fancier pastries. It forms the basis of eclairs, cream puffs, and, if you are crazy, croquembouche.

3 Layer cake

Unclear what more to say. Since these are all french pastries, perhaps the sponge is genoise?

Mini Opera Cake

Opera cake is layers of Joconde sponge (almond sponge) flavored with coffee syrup, layered with italian butter cream, and then topped with chocolate ganache. It was something I planned on making before everything closed down (I can’t eat it myself X.x).

Madeleine or Beignet [X]

Since this was a picnic basket, I am leaning in favor of Madeleines. They fit the other set of deserts better than a Beignet.

Nut Entrement

I think is this another cake, but it is unclear. I can’t seem to source this one either. Maybe it is carrot cake! That often has nuts around the perimeter.

Sauvignon Blanc

Olaf’s wine of choice

Aqueous Martini

Jerome’s drink of choice.

Indian Food

Larry, in his last waiter position, poses in an Indian Restaurant. Poe orders a glass of milk.

The Barking Gin Distiller Dry Goods

Interesting brand on the bag belonging to a lady on the trolley during the sequence when Justice Strauss is searching for the Children.

Tea

In flash back with Kit and Esme. Kit likes her tea as bitter as worm wood and sharp as a double edged sword.

Sausages

Crow meat and an analogy for learning the Law (you don’t want to know how the sausage is made, just like you don’t want to know how the law works).

Too much pepper and makes the court audience cough.

Food in The End

Root Beer Float [X]

Lemony has one. It is his thirteenth.

Waffles

Partially consumed by the man following Lemony at the diner.

Mixed Nuts

All that is left to eat on the boat. Sunny offers some to Olaf, but he knocks it into the sea.

Ceviche

Since the islanders don’t have any spice, they eat raw fish.

I have never had this, but recall reading in a book about sushi how it was integrated by some sushi chefs in South America into more traditional Japanese cuisine.

Fermented Coconut Cordial

I have no idea how you could get anything resembling an opioid from fermenting coconut water. Unless Ish is adding something, this seems suspect. Fermenting something sweet and earthy also does not really sound appealing.

Wasabi and Wormwood

Sunny’s suggestions on how to treat the Medusoid Mycelium.

Wormwood and related foods appear often.

Apple

Modified by Bertrand and Beatrice to contain the sugars giving immunity to the Medusoid Mycelium.

Chocolate Cake [X]

SQUEEE this was adorable. Sunny makes a cake for Beatrice II’s first birthday.

Salad

Shared by Fiona and Fernald.

Root Beer Float

Shared between Lemony and Beatrice II as she tells him the remaining story.

I want to believe that this is his 14th root beer float.

Black Bean and Mango Salad

Sunny makes this during the Finnish Female Pirates incident as told by Beatrice II.

This sounds amazing! Slightly ripe mango with a citrusy black bean mixture would be delightful!

#netflix asoue #asoue #food in asoue #food in television

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rainyearthquakezombie · 4 years ago

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wineryescapades · 4 years ago

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Local Vineyard and Winery Tidbits

We’ll keep this pinned toward the top of our page and do our best to keep it updated as we hear interesting industry tidbits. E-mail tidbits to [email protected] or text Dennis @ 864-357-1435 Let’s get going!!! Mountain Brook Vineyards in Tryon is this Spring replanting the entire vineyards while adding acreage under vine. New plantings will consist of Sauvignon Blanc, Cabernet Franc,…

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#DiscoverSCwine #Hendersonville #ncwine #North Carolina #North Georgia #scwine #South Carolina #wine #wine lovers #wineblog #winery #Yadkin Valley

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ignigcna · 4 years ago

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𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒔.

FULL NAME : Daenerys Targaryen APPELLATION(S) : Daeny, Stormborn, Khaleesi, The Unburnt, The Silver Queen AGE : 36 Years Old BIRTHDATE : April 20th, 1984 ZODIAC : Aries

GENDER : Cis Female ETHNICITY : Caucasian RELIGION : Agnostic

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : Hetero SEXUAL ORIENTATION : Bi-Curious RELATIONSHIP STATUS : Widowed, Involved

MAFIA ALLEGIANCE : Targaryen POSITION : Pakhan DAY JOB : Businesswoman / Entrepreneur ( CEO of Khalasar Conglomerate, The Dragonpit, and various other ventures ) FINANCIAL STATUS : Inherited and Illegal Wealth

𝑷𝒉𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍 𝑨𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆.

FACE CLAIM : Katheryn Winnick HEIGHT : 5′6″ PHYSICAL BUILD : Curvy EYE COLOUR : Vivid Blue HAIR COLOUR : Pale blonde, with golden lowlights

𝑭𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚.

FATHER : Aerys Targeryen ( † ) MOTHER : Rhaella Targaryen SIBLINGS : Rhaegar, Shaena ( † ), Daeron ( † ), Aegon ( † ), Jaehaerys ( † ), and Viserys Targaryen EXTENDED RELATIONS :

SISTER-IN-LAW : Elia Martell

NIECE & NEPHEW : Rhaenys and Aegon Targaryen

SIGNIFICANT OTHER(S) :

HUSBAND : Khal Drogo ( † )

LOVER : Daario Naharis

CHILDREN : Rhaego Drogo Targaryen ( † ), Kovarro Drogon Targaryen ( Adopted Son ) HOUSEHOLD PET(S) : A Horse named Silver

𝑭𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

COLOUR : Crimson, Charcoal, Black WEATHER : Spring FOOD : Stroganoff BEVERAGE : Cabernet Sauvignon, Scotch, TIME OF DAY : Sunrise

𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚.

HOBBIES : Reading ( usually epics, classics, and non-fiction ) MBTI TYPE : INTJ ( The Architect ) ENNEAGRAM TYPE : Type 8 ( The Challenger )

𝑩𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅.

tw: passive mention of abuse, death of a child, and murder.

Born in the golden age of the Targaryen rule over King’s Landing, she was the youngest and only surviving daughter of Aerys and Rhaella Targaryen. Her name came with privilege, and the great burden of sin to bare alongside the rest of her family. As a young girl Daeny could hardly stomach the violence and death that was so quintessential to the life of a mobsters daughter, she learned young that there were no good men in their world, and least of all her brutal and abusive father or her brothers. A fact only proven when her father promised her at the age of fifteen to a man whose tales of brutality were famous all the way from Essos a city far from King’s Landing, a city which he solely ruled with his brunt force and mountains of wealth. Her father’s decision meant she would have to live a life away from the only people she found comfort and safety with, all for the promise of power. Little did she know that power would benefit her more than anyone else far in the future.

Rhaegar was the pride of the Targaryens, and he ascended to the metaphorical throne when Daeny was barely old enough to understand the weight of such a responsibility, she remembered her brother being kind to her, but little else considering he was never around, always busy with the family business. She does however bitterly remember her pleading with Rhaegar to speak to their father on her behalf to change his decision in regards to her marriage to Drogo, but his only response being they all must play their part. Her brother had broken her heart that day, she never made another plea to anyone. Three years later she departed for Essos believing that was the last she’d seen of Kings Landing. She heard of her brother’s scandal only a few short months later, and she couldn’t help the bitterness at the thought that he had not done his part. While she knew she should’ve felt sorrow over the dismantling of her families’ rule over the city, she had always seen it as broken, this was only the chink that dealt the final blow.

Khal Drogo was a man that intimidated her from the start, seven years older than her when she was fifteen that age difference had felt too vast to bridge, she couldn’t imagine what a life with him would look like. Though his age was the slightest of factors considering his reputation even at the age of twenty two was that of a ruthless, merciless killer, at least in their world. To everyone else he was an ambitious and trailblazing young man who has just taken over his father’s legacy, Khalasar Conglomerate a company that generated revenue in the billions providing jobs for hundreds of thousands, with a foothold in nearly every continent. Daenerys had expected someone void of emotion and empathy, much like her own father the one person who truly scared her. Though she learned nearly right away after their marriage that yes he was everything she imagined but so much more. The side of him she saw wasn’t the side the rest of the world got, how could they when power and fear mattered so much to them all.

He was kind to her, gentle even, they took their time to get to know one another before they truly began to life as husband and wife. He had no queries with her desire to go to college and work alongside him to expand Khalasar Conglomerate and their reign over Essos. Two years into their marriage when a woman abandoned a young child at their door, his child from an affair many years ago it truly tested their relationship. Though by that point she’d grown to love and trust her husband, she couldn’t be angry with him for someone he’d been with long before he’d even met her. Having Kovarro around took some getting used to but she bonded with him soon enough. Daenerys was happier than she’d ever imagined she could be in her arranged marriage, and two years later she gave birth to Rhaego, and that happiness multiplied tenfold. By this time she’d established herself as a force to be reckoned with in Essos no less capable that her husband, in fact with her at the helm he decided to step away from K.C to focus on expanding the reach of his influence beyond Essos. Together they spoke of plans to reclaim her families lost prestige, though her perfectly crafted world came crashing down two years later when Khal was killed, poisoned anf there was nothing she could do after exhausting every last avenue but watch him suffer and die a slow and painful death. Nothing but end his pain, taking the last of his breathes with her own hands.

In the wake of her husband’s death, there was no room to crumble or to show any hint of weakness not when the vultures circled in hopes of claiming everything Khal had accomplished, everything they had accomplished together from her. Thus, she was given another blow. Returning home one evening to find her home up in flames along with her child. She heeded no warnings when she grabbed one of the firefighters masks right out of his hands and rushed inside to save her baby. She emerged from the flames unburnt with a charred bundle in her hands, the heat of the flames having already dried her tears. No one would see her tears, she would not allow it. They’d sought to set her world on fire so she would crumble alongside the brick and mortar, never to rise again. However they had forgotten that she was Daenerys Stormborn, the Dragon’s Daughter. Within her she had the same spirit of greatness, and capability to wreak the same devastation as the magnificent creatures her family paid patronage to.

Daenerys allowed herself a few year to carefully plot her return to King’s Landing, as well as to settle her affairs in Essos, those loyal to Khal remained loyal to her for which she was grateful. It meant that not only would she have a financial backing but also the added manpower to take back King’s Landing. Daenerys doesn’t just want to return to the tentative peace they’d had before her brother’s fall from grace, no she wants absolute control, to break the mold and shape it to her liking. Since her return she’s been swift to take power, even if it meant snatching it from her own brother’s grasp, allowing him to be her Lieutenant is more or less to appease any further turmoil. Elia on the other hand she has more fate in, at least in her council. Daenerys had always respected her as much as she did her brother, however, she’s never allowed herself to put her complete trust in Elia and by extension her children simply because she can’t be certain that she’d ever be willing to stand against the Martell’s if needed. If there is anyone whom she does trust blindly in is her family of choice, Kovarro whose never disappointed her, who has his father’s spirit and strength having filled the hole in her heart that Rhaego’s death had left.

𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔.

JORAH, DAARIO, MISSANDEI : WCs can be found here.

KOVARRO : Sending in the WC soon.

Platonic

A FRIEND FROM THE PAST : Her closest friend growing up they stayed in touch in the beginning of her move to Essos, though with time that changed. However, since her return to King’s Landing they’ve been able to bridge the distance once again. ( 0 / 1 )

POLITICAL FRIENDSHIP : Friends for the sake of mutual benefit. Could just as easily stab one another in the back, or become true allies. ( 0 / ? )

Romantic

WE WERE JUST KIDS WHEN WE FELL IN LOVE : Someone she knew and secretly dated as a teenager, her first love. They lost contact after her move to Essos, and haven’t cross paths since. ( 0 / 1 )

Antagonistic

A BITTER ENEMY FROM THE START : Someone she didn’t like from the moment she met them, that dislike has persisted and grown since. Now they are a clear hurdle in her path to glory. ( 0 / 1 )

#❛ ･ﾟ✖ ( ᴅᴀᴇɴᴇʀʏs ᴛᴀʀɢᴇʀʏᴇɴ )#❛ ･ﾟ✖ ( development › ᴅᴀᴇɴᴇʀʏs )#vixere:intro #vixere:task

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featherymalignancy · 5 years ago

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CHAPTER ONE—In Vino Veritas: A Nessian Story

“In wine lies the truth”

Summary: Nesta Archeron is convinced she has everything she wants: a law degree from an ivy, a prestigious job, a gorgeous boyfriend, and excellent taste in wine. However, when she wanders into her local wine vendor and meets a handsome stranger unafraid to play her quick-witted games, she begins to wonder if the life she’s built is really the one she wants.

Cash Kahukore worked his entire adolescent life to become a sommelier, ignoring the slurs his mixed heritage have always earned him as he fought his way to the top. However, after five years abroad buying for Michelin star restaurants and dealing with rich white assholes, he’s grown bored with his life. When a gorgeous lawyer comes in to his uncle’s shop one afternoon, he immediately recognizes a worthy opponent in her. Undaunted by her sharp tongue and possessive boyfriend, he’s determined to be her friend, and—as time goes on and their circumstances change—possibly something more.

This a prequel to Navy Suits and Chelsea Boots that takes place three years before. If you love Elriel (and don’t mind finding out how this story ends) check it now.

Also, check out the masterlist for In Vino Veritas HERE!

Announcements: I know some of you are going to see and and worry “BUT WHAT ABOUT LIKE A LONELY HOUSE??” It’s coming, I swear. I was just really jammed up working on it and this was a way to relieve the brain bleed that LaLH was causing. But seriously, don’t panic, it’s coming. I know I’m not nearly as prolific as some of the more popular writers in this fandom, but I swear it’s because I’m just trying to get it right. Okay, now on with the show!

Chapter One: Cheval

Nesta Archeron had worked hard to get to where she was. She’d helped raise her sisters before putting herself through college and law school, and as a young associate she’d stayed at the office long after her contemporaries gone home. As a reward for her sacrifices—and the success they’d awarded her—Nesta always treated herself to the best of everything. She wore the best clothes, dined at the best restaurants, and—of course—drank the best wine.

That’s why she only ever bought from Merchant of Vino. Sure, it was a stupid name, but she’d done her research, and it was undoubtedly the best wine vendor in the Bay Area. They sold all her favorite Napa reds, and the owner was a man named Devlon who knew his stuff and never tried to look down her blouse.

Nesta was a person who thrived on routine—on ritual—and going to Merchant had become one of her favorites since arriving in San Francisco the previous year.

That was, until the day said ritual was disrupted.

It had started out like normal: she got out of court in the early afternoon and battled traffic to North Beach, already considering what she would order. She hadn’t bought Spring Mountain in a while, and after the day opposing counsel had given her, she was in the mood for something thorny.

The quaint little bell dinged when she stepped inside, and she took a minute to admire the familiar racks before glancing to the bar...

She frowned.

“You’re not Devlon,” she said in greeting, and the man behind the counter—who looked to be in his late twenties— glanced up from the where he’d been shelving bottles and laughed.

“Very astute; I’m not.”

She crossed her arms across her chest. She didn’t like to be teased. She felt a stab of annoyance when he reached up to shelve a final bottle and she caught a glimpse of his ridged stomach and the making of an Adonis belt, visible above the waistband of his low-slung Jeans. She especially didn’t like being teased by attractive men. As an attorney, she got enough of that in her day job.

“I’ve never seen anyone else work here,” she clarified.

She didn’t bother to sound polite, but if her tone bothered the stranger,he didn’t show it.

He only shrugged, gesturing she take a seat in one of the well-loved leather barstools before leaning his forearms on the counter. They were as corded as the rest of him, and covered with what she recognized as Māori tattoos.

“Then I guess it’s your lucky day: I know more about wine than Dev could hope to learn in ten lifetimes.”

When she only responded by pursing her lips, the stranger’s grin widened. Nesta fought not to admire him as leaned a fraction closer.

With long hair tied back in a bun at his crown and heavy gold hoops in his ears, he was nothing like the clean cut and classically-handsome guys she usually went for. Still, she couldn’t deny he was rather devastating.

He was tall and broad, his powerful chest and tapered waist cutting an inherently masculine silhouette which—much to her chagrin—Nesta couldn’t help admiring.

His bronze skin and glossy dark hair spoke to the island heritage his tattoos had already hinted at, and his eyes…

Nesta didn’t want to dwell on how much green they had running through the ribbons of hazel, or how they glittered as they continued to study her.

She sniffed and glanced down to adjust the watch at her wrist, if only to escape the fact she’d been checking him out, hard.

“That’s a rather lofty assessment,” she said finally.

He shrugged.

“It’s true.”

“Jury’s still out,” she shot back.

He gave a throaty laugh, taking the opportunity to look her up and down. However, it wasn’t in the leering way she’d grown accustomed to, as if she were a cut of expensive meat. He seemed to be taking her measure instead. From the way he smiled—teeth diamond bright against his full lips—it was clear he’d been satisfied by what he’d found.

“Challenge accepted. I’m more than happy to blow your mind, free of charge.”

She snorted, ignoring the potential double meaning. This felt dangerously like flirting, and if there was one thing Nesta Archeron never did, it was flirt.

“You really think I’m that easy?”

His grin widened, and she rolled her eyes. Okay, fine, she’d walked into that one. Still, she wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, and everything about this guy seemed to suggest he’d be a worthy opponent.

“Okay, maestro,” she said, setting her bag down and finally taking a seat. “If you’re so smart, pour me a glass of something you think I’ll like.”

He considered, biting his annoyingly-plush lower lip as he surveyed her again. It was more openly appreciative this time, but still never strayed below her chin.

“What do I get if I guess correctly?”

She gave him a deadpan look, the kind her male colleagues had suggested could melt flesh from bone.

“A tip.”

He bubbled his lips in dismissal.

“Woman, I don’t work here for the tips. I’d rather have your name.”

She considered, hating how much she was enjoying this. It had been ages since she’d had a decent sparring partner.

“Fine,” she said. “But know that if you’re wrong, I’m not giving you either.”

He only laughed before grabbing three glasses from where they hung on the rack and lining them up on the bar top between them.

“I’ll take my chances.“

He glanced back at her, drumming his fingers against his lips as he considered. He then pulled out three bottles, a white and two reds. When he’d poured a taste in the first two glasses and two fingers-worth in the third, she frowned.

“This is cheating.”

He only laughed again, eyes alight beneath his devilishly arched brows. They made him look dangerous in a way Nesta refused to admit suited him.

“Trust the process,” he said, gesturing to the glass of white.

“Now, this is what you think I think you like: Rombauer Chardonnay out of the Napa valley. Aged in French oak with notes of vanilla and an earthy, buttery finish. Too rich to make a good sipping wine, but still an inexplicable go-to choice for mansplainers trying to impress their female friends.”

He paused to give her a roguish smile, which she rewarded with a shrug. He was right; she hated buttery chardonnays, but it was still what men always assumed she’d want.

He swished the the Rombauer before swallowing the small measure in the glass and moving to the next, a plum-colored red.

“This is what you think you want: Nickel and Nickel Cabernet. It’s complex and beguiling and just the kind of fleshy, bold California red a power broker like yourself is conditioned to love.”

She ignored the jab and picked up the glass, bringing it to her nose. She was greeted with the smell of dark berries and cassis, and it made her mouth water.

“You should have quit while you were ahead,” she said, throwing back the small measure and letting the taste envelop her palate. “Far Niente is one of my favorite vineyards.”

He just smirked, gesturing to third glass.

“Not so fast, because this is what you actually want. Chateau Cheval Blance from the St-Émilion appellation in France. A light structure, perfect in its tension between floral and mineral notes. Truly, this is terroir at its finest.”

She gave him a tight smile.

“I’m not a Old World wine person,” she said, pushing the empty Cabernet glass towards him in silent request he refill it. “Better luck next time on the tip.”

He responded by pushing the French blend towards her instead.

“Humor me.”

She pursed her lips before picking up the glass. She could smell dark cherries and wood smoke, and something floral that she couldn’t place but that was all the more tantalizing for its elusiveness.

Begrudgingly she took a sip, and it was an effort not to let her eyes roll back in her head. It was silky, but not in the cloying way that Chardonnays sometimes were, and the flavor seemed to blossom, sweet plum giving way to dark berries and something earthy that had her toes curling in her expensive Louboutin heels. Truly, she wasn’t sure she’d ever tasted anything so divine.

He studied her reaction before flashing a wicked smile and leaning in.

“So what’s your name, Gorgeous?”

Struggling to compose herself, she hastily set down the glass.

“I have a boyfriend,” she snapped.

The man seemed undaunted by her declaration though, and if he noticed her sudden unease, he didn’t comment. Instead, he re-filled her glass before pouring one for himself.

“I have no doubt,” he said, touching his glass to hers so the crystal sang. “But that isn’t what I asked.”

She watched him as he took a sip, his throat working as he swallowed. Good Lord, he was handsome.

She mentally slapped herself. She had a boyfriend, and perfect taste in wine aside, she shouldn’t be indulging this stranger in whatever game he thought he was playing. Tomás would be furious if he found out.

This in mind, she settled for scowling.

The stranger laughed.

“It’s not like it matters,” he said, twirling the stem of his glass between long fingers. “Unless you’re a drug dealer who plans to pay cash for the case of Cheval of you are so obviously going to be buying, I’m going to see it on your card anyway. Besides, no one likes an oath breaker.”

She took another sip of wine to hide her smile. They weren’t flirting, she assured herself. They were just...talking. Talking was perfectly innocent. Tomas couldn’t get angry at her for talking.

The man waited, and eventually she relented.

“Nesta.”

“Nesta...?” He prompted, and she rolled her eyes.

“Nesta Archeron.”

He extended a hand.

“Cash.”

“Please tell me that’s a nickname.”

He only laughed in response.

“Are you always this charming, Nesta Archeron?”

His hand remained between them, and after a beat of hesitation she took it. A jolt of electricity shot up her arm the minute they touched, and she found herself fending off a flush as she tugged her hand back. Still, they remained close. Closer than she knew she should allow, even as she failed to pull back to a safer distance.

He watched with keen interest as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear before meeting her gaze again and saying, “yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, it’s a nickname. Cash is short for Cassian, though I don’t think anyone’s actually called me that since my mom died.”

A pang hit her, a familiar ache that still wrenched at her ten years later.

Without fully understanding why she was doing it, she blurted, “my parents are dead, too.”

He frowned for the first time since they’d met.

“I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.”

It was an automatic response, the one she always gave to avoid people asking more questions. It didn’t feel like a long time ago, though. At least, the pain hadn’t dulled the way it should have. Some night she still caught herself wishing her mother were there to tuck her into bed.

“I’m still sorry,” Cash said, brushing her ring finger with the tips of his.

It was a feather-light touch—a gesture of comfort and solidarity—but it still had Nesta’s stomach knotting. She pulled her hand away and he didn’t fight her on it, glancing up to give her a soft look instead.

“I know how hard it is, being on your own.”

Nesta bristled.

“I’m not alone. I’ve got two younger sisters, and my—“

“—boyfriend,” he said, leaning back even as he smirked. “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten.”

She couldn’t help it; this time, she flushed. However the look gave her said he had no intention of pushing the issue.

She imagined what Elain would say were she there, and she grit her teeth before forcing out, “I didn’t mean to imply that you—“

“Don’t apologize,” he said, eyes glittering as they skated over her face again. “Beautiful girl like you, it...wasn’t a bad assumption. Still, you have nothing to worry about from me, I promise.”

She nodded, surprised to find a twinge or disappointment. She attempted to bury the feeling by shouldering on.

“So where is Devlon?”

Cash shrugged, folding his toned arms across his chest in a gesture his white T-shirt struggled to accommodate.

“He had to go back home to handle some stuff and I’d just gotten back to town, so I told him I’d watch the shop for awhile.”

“How long will he be gone?”

Cash grinned, taking another sip of wine.

“Sick of me already, Archeron?”

She only pursed her lips in response, and he laughed.

“I didn’t ask. But long enough that you’ll get to see me again, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

His grin was a slash of white across his tan face, and she looked away to avoid blushing again. This was definitely too close to flirting for Nesta’s comfort. One more glass and she might—

“I should go,” she said abruptly, draining the last of her wine. “It was nice meeting you, Cassian.”

She picked up her bag and was halfway to freedom when he laughed.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

She turned back, and he gestured to the racks of wine all around them. When they made eye contact, his grin grew wicked.

“Or did Dev already tell you his gorgeous nephew was taking over the shop, and you just came to check out the goods yourself?”

She grit her teeth, trying not to admire said...goods, especially the ones she could make out through his thin t-shirt and fitted jeans.

“You’re an ass,” she growled, stalking back towards him.

“C’mon, you love it.”

“Don’t make me gut you will my shoe. It’s impossible to get blood out of suede.”

He only laughed.

“Why do I get the sense you’d actually do it, too?”

“Because I don’t make idle threats,” she snapped.

“I’ll believe that,” he said, eyes alight. “Alright, enough teasing, then. What are you looking for? Besides the Cheval, obviously,” he added, winking.

She debated ordering three cases of Nickel and Nickel just to wipe the smirk off his face. However, she quickly decided it was an exercise in futility; he’d know why she was doing it, and the Cheval really was too divine to pass up.

“Yes, you insufferable bastard, I will have a case of the Cheval.” When he grinned in reply, she added, “And a bottle of Ferreira Garrafeira.”

He gave a low whistle.

“That’s expensive stuff. And I thought you said you didn’t like Old World wine?”

“It’s not for me; it’s for Tomás.”

She could decide if she felt pleased or guilty when his smile slipped a fraction before recovering, too bright to be wholly genuine.

“Ah. the famed boyfriend, I presume. He’s certainly got...interesting taste.”

When she bristled, he went on hurriedly.

“In wine! Obviously his taste in women is...” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish laugh.

“Yes?” She said archly, not wanting to admit how much the comment had stung.

With sisters like Elain and Feyre, Nesta was used to being dismissed as the frigid, uptight sister. It didn’t make it any easier to swallow.

However, Cash wasn’t looking at her in that way men often did, as if she were some poisonous insect he was afraid might sting him. His expression softened.

“Impeccable,” he finished, and it was so unexpected she flushed.

He cleared his throat before going to the computer behind the bar to consult the shop’s inventory.

“We don’t have the Garrafeira in right now, but I can order it for you. The Cheval is in the back.”

“Don’t worry about the port,” she said, regretting the outburst now. “He’ll—live.”

Cash turned, brows furrowed.

“Are you sure? I can—“

“It’s fine,” Nesta repeated. “Thank you.”

Cash nodded and disappeared into the back before reappearing with a wooden crate a minute later. The strain of holding it was doing glorious things for his arms, and she cleared her throat.

“Thank you,” she said, making a great show digging in her bag for her wallet to avoid looking at him again.

“Where are you parked? I don’t want you snapping your neck walking on those pencils you’re calling shoes.”

She pursed her lips.

“You’re hilarious. How much do I owe you?”

However, he was halfway to the door already.

“I have a friend who distributes for Cheval. This one’s on me.”

“No!” She called, following after him. “Cassian, come back! I don’t need your charity!”

Cash turned to smirk at her over his shoulder.

“With that handbag? I’d say not. Besides, this isn’t charity. It’s...an investment.”

She scowled at this, and he gave an exasperated laugh.

“Don’t get thorny on me, Archeron. I just meant—“ he broke off, laughing again. “Think of it as a perk for being a regular. Buy ten cases, get one free.”

“This isn’t Jamba Juice,” she said, deadpan. “And I don’t like owing people.”

“Look,” he said. “I wasn’t lying about my friend being a distributor. It’s not going to cost the shop anything. Now, where is your car? I think my arms are going numb.”

She bit her lip, debating what this might end up costing her. She didn’t believe in “free”, and she didn’t like feeling like she owed someone; she’d had enough of that from people when she’d been taking care of her sisters after their parents died.

Then again, she’d made it clear that she wasn’t interested in him...like that, and she’d certainly bought her fair share of wine here over the last few years...

“Fine,” she said, gesturing to her Land Rover. “But take this, at least.”

She pulled out a fifty from her wallet, and Cash rolled his eyes.

“I’m not the pizza delivery boy; I don’t want a tip. Just, promise not to call me Cassian again. That’s all the payment I require.”

She didn’t move, the bill still outstretched. He heaved the crate into her open trunk before shutting it.

“I swear to god, woman, put that away before I shred it to ticker tape. I don’t need your charity, either.”

She relented with a huff, and he laughed.

“Thank you,” he said.

“I should be the one thanking you,” she admitted, and he smiled, leaning against her car.

“No one is stopping you.”

She grit her teeth, irritated and flustered in equal measure.

“Thank you,” she finally managed. “For the wine.”

“‘And for blowing my mind’,” he prompted, and she flipped him a foul hand gesture, civility forgotten.

“If you think that’s all it takes to blow my mind, you have a lot to learn about women.”

He bit his lip, eyes full of amusement as he peeled himself off the car.

“I’ll take that under advisement,” he said, flashing her a quick wink. “Until next time, then, Nesta Archeron.”

She opened her mouth to retort, but for once words failed her. She instead stood, gaping like a landlocked fish as he sauntered around her and back into the shop.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cash was distracted for hours after Nesta Archeron left. Even as he met with reps and worked on organizing his uncle Devlon’s pathetically arcane inventory system, he found his eyes kept wandering to the door, as if she might come sauntering back in. Damnit, why hadn’t he told her the Cheval was out of stock? Then at least he would have had a guarantee of seeing her again. Depending on her drinking habits, it could be months before she came in again. Fuck, he was so stupid.

Not that it mattered, really. How many times had she managed to force her boyfriend into the equation? Twice? Three times? Definitely enough that he knew he should get the message. And he understood; he really did. Like all guys his age, he’d been raised on a steady diet of “if she’s not interested, try harder”. It hadn’t been until he’d gotten into his twenties that he’d realized how fucked up that was. When women said no, men needed to respect that and not keep pushing.

The problem was that despite all the clumsy mentions of her boyfriend, she’d still stayed when she easily could have left. Besides, if she thought he hadn’t seen her checking him out, she was insane. Not that he blamed her, obviously. If he was a woman, he’d want to fuck him, too.

Before he could catch himself, his lizard brain was imagining what being in bed with her would be like. His pulse thrummed. It wasn’t so much the idea of sleeping with her as it was imagining what a courtship like that would be like. She was definitely hot, but her body had nothing on that gorgeous brain. It was clear she was a woman of supreme intellect; he’d have to seduce her mind if he ever wanted to earn something physical.

It was the kind of intellectual challenge he craved, and one he hadn’t had in ages before she’d come in. He wanted someone who could dish it back, and Nesta Archeron clearly knew how to give as good as she got.

His phone rang, and he glanced at the caller id before huffing and picking it up.

“If you’re calling to ask if the shop has burned down yet, the answer is no.”

His uncle Devlon laughed.

“That place is the closest thing I’ll ever have to a wife; I just want to make sure you’re treating her right.”

“I’ll show her a good time while you’re away,” Cash promised, pouring himself a glass of a new Rioja the rep had dropped off that afternoon.

“Don’t make sex jokes about my baby,” Dev said. “And stop drinking my merchandise!”

“I’m not!” Cash said, setting down his glass. “Relax, old man. And is Merchant your wife or your baby? You should probably decide; you’ll freak people out if you keep using them interchangeably.”

“Very funny, wise ass. How’s it being back?”

“This place hasn’t changed a bit in ten years,” Cash said, looking around appreciatively. “But you need to get a decent table in here so you can host tasting. Why didn’t you call my friend Az like I told you to? He does gorgeous work.”

“You must think I’m a lot richer than I am,” Dev said. “I’ve seen his designs; you think I can afford a ten thousand dollar table?”

Cash rolled his eyes.

“He said he’d do it at cost. Why are you being so stubborn?”

“I’m not going to prey on your fancy friends. Tell him thank you but I can’t swing it.”

“Fine.”

Dev sighed.

“Why do I feel like you’re just going to do it anyway?”

“Because I’m as stubborn as you. How’s Koro?”

“Not a spry as she used to be, but she’s managing just fine. She wants to know when her favorite grandson is coming back. She says the Ritz on Maui is looking for a sommelier.”

“Tell her my days of working for rich white assholes is behind me,” Cash said.

Dev considered.

“You could open your winery here, you know. Volcanic wine is popular with the haoles.”

“Didn’t I just say I was done with rich white assholes?”

“Fine, fine.”

There was a pause in which Cash weighed his options before he added in what he hoped was a casual tone, “If I said the name Nesta Archeron, would that mean anything to you?”

“The lawyer? Sure. She comes in about twice a month. Nice girl, once you get past her prickly side. Why?”

Cash swirled his wine.

“Just wondering. She came in today.”

Dev gave a gravelly laugh.

“You’re barking up the wrong tree. She’s got a boyfriend.”

“So I’ve been warned. Have you met him?”

“She’s brought him in once or twice. Portuguese dude.”

“Nice?”

“Not particularly. He’s very possessive of her. Really rubbed me the wrong way.”

Cash felt a prickle of irritation himself. What was a brilliant, fiery woman like Nesta Archeron doing with a controlling prick for a boyfriend? She should be with someone who respected that sharp tongue, someone who could—

“Don’t even think about it, Cash. She’s one of my favorite customers. I don’t want you to scare her off with your panting.”

“I don’t ‘pant’. Also, can you blame me? Man, those legs, and her eyes—“

“I mean it,” Dev interrupted, voice firmer this time. “If she brought up her boyfriend, it means she wants you to fuck off.”

“I’m not going to bother her. I was just....curious.”

“Well don’t be. That creepy boyfriend will nail your balls to the wall if he finds out you’re trying to move in on her.”

“I respect her choices, but I don’t give a shit about him. He can suck my co—“

“I think you’d better accept that no one in that relationship wants your tiny pecker.”

“Tell that to the way she was looking at me today.”

“Just because you’ve got a cute ass doesn’t mean she likes you.”

Cash groaned.

“Fine, forget I said anything.”

Dev chuckled.

“Don’t be sulky. I’m sure there’s plenty of women in the Bay Area that would be happy to take her place.”

He was right, but somehow it didn’t make Cash feel any better. There was no shortage of beautiful women in San Francisco, but none of them interested him quite the way she had. There’d been no denying the wrenching disappointment when he’d realized she wasn’t single. Then again, had he really expected someone like her to be? And she was lawyer to boot. He gave a huff of amused appreciation. He should have known.

“Right,” Dev said, interrupting his reverie. “Well I just wanted to check in, sounds like everything is fine there. I will tell Koro you said hi. Remember, I’m charging you for any of my wine you drink.”

Cash snorted.

“You’re getting a level three somm for free. I’ll drink all the wine I want.”

“Fair enough. Take care of yourself, pōtiki. And no more hitting on my customers!”

“I wasn’t—“ Cash began, but the line clicked off, and he swore, even has he caught himself laughing a little.

He’d been second-guessing the decision to come back from London since he’d arrived two weeks ago. Today, for the first time, he felt he was exactly where he was meant to be.

He’d thought he might owe Nesta Archeron another case of wine for that, boyfriend or no. He just hoped she wouldn’t make him wait too long for the opportunity.

Next Chapter

taggings some interested parties!: @katexrenee @mariamuses @theovogkaaunt @bookofmaas @goldbooksblack @dreamerforever-5 @willsrune @rhysanoodle @queen-of-wings-and-fire @wesupremeginger

#Nessian #nesta x cassian #Nessian AU #cassian x nesta #featherywrites #IVV

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