#sauternes wine

[winemastery]

Chassaux et Fils Sauternes 2016 Wine review (Episode 379)

Chassaux et Fils Sauternes 2016 Wine review (Episode 379)

[wineworldnews]

Sauternes – shaken or stirred? - With consumer interest in sweet wines dwindling, some producers are looking to mixology as a new sales avenue. on @Decanter https://bit.ly/3mftpKy #sauternes #wine #mixology

[postcard-from-the-past]

Wine making in the Château d'Yquem, Sauternes, Guyenne region of France

French vintage postcard

[ruou-tot]

Haut Charmes Sauternes

Rượu vang Haut Charmes Sauternes luôn là dòng vang ngọt lý tưởng cho những bữa tối lãng mạn nhờ với hương vị ngọt ngào và nước rượu full-body sánh mịn. Xuất xứ từ Bordeaux trứ danh, cái cách mà hương vị của chai rượu len lỏi trong từng giác quan có thể tự tin chinh phục những tín đồ sành rượu lâu năm và nhận về nhiều quan tâm của giới chuyên gia.

[pagingdrmusic]

Sweeties!

[cathy257]

Some whites from last night - 2007 Trimbach Riesling Cuvee Frederic Emile, 2008 J-M Brocard Chablis Grand Cru Les Clos and 2013 Castelnau de Suduiraut Sauternes. #wine #riesling #trimbach #cuveefredericemile #brocard #chablis #lesclos #castelnau #sauternes https://www.instagram.com/p/Clv1XcOtruQ/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[xlvins]

Présentation du nouveau livre sur Château de Fargues écrit par Hélène Farnault aux éditions Glénat. . L’occasion de rentrer dans la dimension des vins d’exceptions, des Grands vins de Bordeaux, de l’appellation Sauternes et de la famille de Lur Saluces. . En plus des magnifiques clichés signés François Poincet retrouvez des recettes inspirées par de grands Chefs pour illustrer ce vin hors-norme de manière gourmande, originale et gastronomique. . Lors de la présentation ce fut l’occasion d’apprécier les millésimes 2007 et 2017, l’envergure d’un côté, la fraîcheur de l’autre. Il fait toujours bon se rendre à Château de Fargues ! . #vin #wine #winelover #sweet #sweetwine #sauternes #sweetforlife #winepairing #somm #food #xlvinsfr (à Sauternes) https://www.instagram.com/p/ClA59I7jm2U/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[aloysiavirgata]

Prompt: wine, cheese, unremarkable house.

They’re on the porch, playing checkers with shot glasses of red and white wine.

Mulder captures one of her glasses, knocks the Sangiovese back like tequila.

“Shit,” Scully observes, frowning. “Dammit.”

“I love when you swear,” he says, with the air of a deep confession. “It’s hot.”

She rolls her eyes. “Mulder, you once got aroused by my knowledge of airplanes. You’re depraved and vile.”

He bites his lower lip, looks at her through his lashes. “Say Brewster F2A Buffalo,” he purrs. “Say Gloster Gamecock.”

“King me” she replies, jumping and then downing a Sauternes. Her lips buzz, sweet honey in the rock even after so long.

He puts a chunk of mortadella in the glass after she returns it to the board. Feeds her a morsel of Roquefort.

She licks the edge of his finger and his heart flutters like it did decades ago when she said if I quit now, they win. When she went ghostbusting with him on Christmas. When she autopsied his mother, when she carried his son.

Mulder hooks a finger behind her top front teeth. Presses his thumb to her chin. “Say F6F Bearcat,” he murmurs.

Scully’s eyes are butane, Scully’s mouth is the tender, lush cerise of a peony in May. Her tongue is like wet sand at the beach in summer. Her tongue is an amuse-bouche. Her clever mouth is the first thing he fell in love with.

“Fuck. You,” she manages.

He does, beneath the platinum moon and the old light of a billion, billion stars.

[templeofthehorn]

Anamchara: Celtic Bonding Ritual For Men

Originally from Celtic Eros

Anamchara: Celtic Bonding Ritual For Men

Ancient Celts are believed to have performed the Anamchara, a ritual which ceremonially sealed a strong bond between friends. Anamchara means “soul friend” and it recognized the power of partnership. This modern Anamchara is a ceremony designed to be shared by friends. It celebrates the bond typically between two men in a way that proves deep and powerful, expressing affection and shared resolve. Historically thought to be a practice between males, this contemporary design can be performed with life-partners and can be adapted for groups with some modifications…

You will need:

3 candles - all different colors 3 candle holders 1 large Chalice/Glass 2 smaller Chalices/Glasses Table to serve as Altar A small stool or chair (optional) Black or brown leather or suede Altar covering (optional) Small decanter of Wine (recommended wines are Sauvignon Blanc, Sauterne, Chianti) Small decanter of Cernunnos Oil (recipe below) or pure Mineral Oil Small gifts for celebrants

Ceremony:

Gather the necessary items. Select three candle colors that when put together will symbolize unity. Each man can choose a color that represents him. The third candle needs to be of a shade that potentially unifies the two others. For instance, one candle may be blue and one red while the third candle will be purple - a unifying combination of the other two. One of the three chalices or glasses should be larger than the other two. The items you use are meant to convey ceremony and bonding. Place all of the items on the table which serves as the Altar.

The men approach the Altar barechested and barefooted on the side that that their candle is located. It should be situated so that one man is located at the East and the other is located at the West. They greet each other with an embrace. Each man lights his candle. The third candle remains unlit and sits between the two others. As stated, if one candle is red and one is blue, then the purple candle is the unity candle. Together, the men speak the bonding vow:

“We are men, We are friends, Be we mates, Above all others, By our bond we are Forever brothers”…

Each man then picks up his burning candle and together they light the third candle.

Next they perform the anointing act. The man located at the East then takes Cernunnos Oil and using a small amount, anoints the forehead (mind/trust/honesty), chest (heart/love/soul) and feet (humility/equality/care) of his mate. The recipient may sit on the stool while the feet are anointed. The man located at the West then does the same in reciprication to the other.

The men directly facing each other then present each other with their gift with these words:

“This gift is special for you, I hope you accept it in love and friendship meant for you. May you feel its energy and hold it dear for all your days”.

Appropriate gifts choices are: An item of Celtic or leather jewelery, crystals, items made of leather, wood or metal.

Next the bond drinking will be done. Pour an amount of the wine into each of the smaller chalices. Each man will then take one drink from his chalice. They each will then pour what remains from their chalice together into the large chalice - evoking unity. The men then drink from what may now be called the “Chalice of Unity” until all the contents are consumed. They then recite together a declaration of unity:

“By this act we are soul-bound with love and respect for each other - We are Anamchara.

Our own flames shine brightly but burn hotter together than alone.

Because we are bound to each other we give strength to one another.

Provide us unity, wisdom, trust and the lifelong love of my (our) brother”…

The premise of Anamchara serves not only to celebrate the connection between the men but to confirm the energy and power between the friends. Each man’s commitment to friendship strengthens and empowers the other. Through the stating of the bond they become a part of the other…

______________________

Ritual Notes:

Simple Cernunnos Oil Recipe: 10 drops Musk oil 8 drops Orange oil 2 drops Sandalwood Oil 1/2 oz Sunflower oil

[peashooter85]

Whisky Review Time --- Bastille 1789 Blended Whisky hon hon hon

France is not generally known as a whisky producing country. Rather it is the land of wine and cognac. So it may be a surprise to many that France does indeed make some whiskys. Bastille 1789 is one brand that has made it's way outside of France to other countries. It is the work of two brothers, Jean-Marc and Edouard Daucourt, whose family has been making wine for something like 150 years. The brothers got into distilling by making cognac, and in the last ten years decided to try their hands at whisky making. Bastille 1789 is named in honor of the French Revolution and the storming of the Bastille on July 14th, 1789.

The whisky is distilled from malted barley from Northeastern France, from which many scotch makers source their barley. I think there is some wheat in the mashbill, I've seen conflicting info. It is distilled in cognac alembics rather than tradition pot stills. I could not tell you the difference that would make flavor wise. Finally the spirit is aged five to seven years in limousine oak casks which once held burgundy, sherry, and sauternes. The whiskys made from the different casks are then blended upon bottling for a consistent flavor. Alcohol content is 40% by volume.

Looking up reviews of Bastille 1789, I was surprised to see a lot of terrible reviews on the whisky reddits. Many seemed almost vitriolic, with some claiming that it was the worst whisk(e)y they had ever had. I'm like, come on man, the worst you ever had? You ever had Canadian Mist? Reviews said that it tasted like triple sec or flat orange soda, which sounds weird. But then, sometime around 2017 the reviews changed so that now most reviews are positive. I figure that perhaps the early product was under-aged, being a new distillery, or perhaps they had their blend all wrong and finally developed a good blend around 2017. Regardless, reviews made me wonder if I made a big l'erreur in buying this.

It's nose is very fruity, with aromas of raisins, prunes, currants, vanilla, and smoky peat. And it tastes just like it smells, dried fruits, some smoky peatiness, vanilla, apricots, and some floral flavors. It finishes with a nice little peppery bite and orange zest. Aftertaste is floral and citrussy. It is quite a pleasant whisky, and for the price of $35 plus shipping and handling I'm quite pleased. All the flavors are balanced, none of the flavors are too strong, in fact they compliment each other well. There isn't much alcohol burn, it is light and easy to drink, and the flavors are not overwhelmed by the flavors of the smoky peat. It is sweet, and I can see some people turned off by that. But it's no where near what old reviews claimed and the sweetness is tamed and complimented by the subtle dryness of the peat and oak. If you like sherried scotches you would probably like this. I'm am very much impressed with this whisky, and rate it 4.3 out of 5 baguettes.

[lovelylogans]

the parent trap

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: all of my change spend on you

Remus has a particularly fun run-in. Well. Fun for him.

⁂

Remus laughs along to the chorus of chuckles that erupted after some joke that Grandfather’s made that he doesn’t entirely understand.

Something about Prince Charles? Some kind of current event? Whatever, Remus is glad to laugh at the monarchy regardless. 

Uncle Logan reenters the room, a bottle of wine in hand. Remus squints at the bottle and tries his very best to quash the excitement that Papa surely would have had at the sight of such an excellent vintage.

A 1981! Oh, Remus needs to see the label—if that’s an Alsace or a Sauternes vineyard, that’s bound to be a stunning merlot, truly…

“May I have a sip?” Remus blurts out.

The adults all exchange looks with many a raised eyebrow; Grandfather and Uncle Logan look to Dad.

“Well, all right,” Dad says, amused, proferring the glass. “I don’t think you’re going to like it…”

Well, that’s where he’s definitely wrong. Remus takes it, holding it by the stem, and he swills the glass under his nose, taking a healthy sniff.

“Ooh, blackberry, redcurrant…” He takes a sip, smacking his lips in appreciation. “What a bouquet! A bit robust for my tastes, but then I’m partial to the softer California grape. An excellent vintage from the year, the rains really—”

And then Remus remembers Roman knows jack squat about wine and shuts himself up.

Dad and Grandfather exchange an incredulous look, laughing together.

“Did the summer camp have a wine tasting?” Grandfather chortles.

“Oh, Dad, really,” Dad says. “I bet you’re quoting some movie, aren’t you, Roman, they aren’t going to be giving eleven-year-olds wine.”

“Uh, yeah,” Remus says shiftily. “A movie, something like that…”

“Speaking of movies—here, right next to the showings—”

“Oh, Father, you and your papers,” Dad sighs, but he leans in to examine the piece regardless.

“Look at that—they’re reporting that the Concorde can fly you anywhere in half the time…!”

Remus tunes out of this conversation just in time for Uncle Logan to seem to remember something.

“Ah, Roman—this was waiting,” Logan says, handing over a piece of paper. 

“A fax? For me?” Remus says.

“From your friend Augustus.”

Remus tries not to panic too obviously as he unfolds the paper.

It’s a sketch of Sammy, barking out a cartoon speech bubble that says 911!!!! as he sprints toward an archway.

An archway with a man with a hand to his chest, the other down on one knee.

Remus falls out of his chair.

“Roman!” All of the adults exclaim in alarm.

“I’m fine!” Remus says, popping back up again. “Um—I guess movies don’t prepare you for wine, I’m feeling a bit light-headed… Dad, would you mind if I stepped out? Got some fresh air?”

“Are you all right?” Dad says. “Would you like me to go with you?”

“No, no, I’ll be all right, just a little woozy, it’s all totally fine—excuse me!”

He sees Dad, Uncle Logan, and Grandfather all exchange a look before he absolutely books it.

⁂

Remus runs as fast as he humanly can, down the street, to the park, and—

“Oi, James!”

Remus almost ignores it entirely and keeps running until he remembers that he’s James.

He slows to a stop, turning to examine the shouter in question: a boy his age, if a bit shorter, sauntering forward with his hands in his pockets and smirking a mile wide.

Remus thinks something very unkind about the stereotypes about British teeth coming from somewhere, but does not say it.

Yet.

“Oi, James, I’m talking to you,” the boy snaps, and the clues click in Remus’s head. Awful teeth—terrible British prep outfit—sneering facial expression... the clues all lead to one thing.

This must be the dreaded Richard Davies.

Oh, yes. It’s obvious the longer Remus looks at him. He’s dressed in a little coat and tie, as if he’s still wearing some sort of uniform; he looks generally unpleasant, even if one were to imagine him pulling any other face than that pathetic way he’s curling his lip. Add in the general air of malaise he’s bringing to cloud over the entirety of the park, empty of people for Davies to swagger past and knock over, there’s no doubting it.

“Come on, crybaby, what are you gonna do?” Davies sneers. “Cry?!”

The proper, British, Roman-esque response would probably be a sharp comment and to walk away. Stiff lip and all that nonsense.

However, Remus is an American and also an asshole. 

And also, this jerk is picking on his twin brother.

So he hauls back, forming a fist just like Virgil taught him, and punches Davies in the nose.

Davies goes down like a sack of potatoes, sprawling across the pavement like someone shoving a little kid off the playground. 

“You hit me!” Davies wails in shock, clutching his bleeding nose with both hands.

“Damn right!”

Davies does not seem to compute this. It’s like Brits don’t know that classic American adage of talk shit get hit. 

“I’m gonna tell!” He sputters.

“Tell!” Remus cackles. “Tell who? It’s an empty park, jackass! Are you gonna go run home crying to your mummy, you coward?!”

He kicks him in the ribs for good measure. Not as painful as he’d like it to be if he’d been wearing proper boots, but he imagines a pointed loafer can’t feel great either from the way Davies curls up, writhing on the ground like the awful little worm that he is.

Remus grabs him by the collar, hauling him upright and shaking him hard.

“You listen to me, Dick Davies,” Remus snarls in his face. “Shit’s gonna go different from now on. If you ever fix your mouth to me like that ever again, you’ll wish for the days I just gave you a bloody nose. You’ll think back on this day with fondness and longing for this compared to what I’ll do to you if you keep talking like that. Get the picture?”

“You—you just wait till school starts again! You’ll regret this!” Davies cries out, and Remus just rolls his eyes.

“You can try to claw whatever status back that you had, but I saw you almost piss yourself when I tapped you,” Remus says. “I’m not worried about school at all, 'cause I’ll bounce you up and down the fucking court like Spalding.”

Remus does a little fake-out lunge toward him, and Davies cringes back with a squeal.

“That’s your cue to run crying home before I start round two, Dickhead Davies,” Remus says helpfully, and Davies at last grasps some semblance of common sense and sprints away.

Remus watches this with a deep sense of satisfaction.

Wait. What was he doing out here again?

Right! The fax!

Remus resumes his sprint for the nearest payphone, flexing out his punching hand as he goes.

⁂

He hastily feeds in as many of the funny-shaped coins into the phonebox it requires and dials with his non-punching hand, as the punching one is starting to ache a bit.

“Hi,” he says, barrelling over the voice of the operator, “I’d like to make a collect call to America, please—”

Remus waits impatiently through the whole process as he has to direct the operator to the phone number of one Parker Knoll in Napa, California, until at last—

“Hello?!” Remus says, then, remembering himself, “Uh, an Augustus Plotka for Remus Parker—”

“Remus?” A voice repeats through the phone.

Virgil! Remus has to clap a hand over his mouth from exclaiming it.

And then, Virgil continues, “Augustus Plotka, huh? That’s the codename you two picked? Remus, I know that’s you, and I know it’s Roman here.”

Remus considers playing dumb for a split second, but—

“Virgil!” Remus cries out, jumping up and down. “Oh my God Virgil it’s you it’s my favorite not-Dad I miss you so much it’s Virgil it’s Virgil—!”

“Remus, slow down,” Virgil says on the edge of a laugh. “Hey there, holy terror, I’ve missed you.”

“I miss you too!” Remus shouts down the phone line. “Did he clue you in? Oh, I’m so happy he clued you in, ‘cause he sent me a fax and it had a distress call in there, what the hell’s going on?!” Then, “Oh my God, I can say hell! They’re way more strict about cussing here, Virgil, I’ve been—”

“Your brother’s a bit busy at the minute,” Virgil says, gently cutting him off, “but I can definitely tell you what’s going on here.”

“Tell tell tell!” Remus says. “Tell me everything! Roman barely knows how to gossip, I think I have to teach him how to break through all that British propriety, but I know Pa’s got a boyfriend now, what’s that all about?!”

There’s a shuffling and the sound of a shut door, which means Virgil’s almost certainly barricaded himself in the pantry.

“His name’s Maddox, and—”

“And you hate him?!” Remus blurts out. “Roman got that far.”

“That’s a bit of a strong,” Virgil begins, then wavers on the whole proper parental advice thing and whispers, “okay, fine, yes, I hate him, I gave Roman carte blanche to be full nuts before I realized he wasn’t you because I thought you’d break them up, which I know is awful of me to put on you—”

“No, are you kidding?! That would be so fun!”

“Yeah, I thought you might say something like that,” Virgil says.

And then he hesitates.

He hesitates a lot. Enough that Remus has to feed another coin into the machine.

“Virgil?” Remus prompts. “Virgil, what’s happened?”

“Remus,” Virgil says, his voice very gentle. “Your Pa’s getting married.”

Remus laughs. Because there’s just—there’s no way that that’s what Virgil just said. There’s no way!

“What do you mean?” He says. “Getting married. What do you mean?!”

“Black ties, white suits, right in the vineyard,” Virgil says grimly. “Maddox wants them to tie the knot in three weeks.”

“Three weeks?!” Remus yelps. “Aren’t weddings supposed to take forever to plan?!”

“Yeah, well. Maddox is eager to jump the gun.”

Remus growls. 

“So I’d imagine that’s part of the distress call Roman sent,” Virgil continues.

“Of course it is,” Remus says, “this puts a major wrench in the whole getting—”

Remus stops himself. Probably too late.

“Hm,” Virgil says, then, taking mercy on him, “Yeah, I bet a wedding would probably put a wrench in you guys getting your time in with your other fathers, wouldn’t it.”

Remus sighs in relief. Either Virgil knows that part of the plan is getting their parents back together, or he just decided to not look into it too much.

Wait, this is Virgil speaking; of course he knows. Virgil overthinks about everything.

“I can’t believe it,” Remus says. “Pa, getting married. Has he absolutely lost his mind?”

“It feels like it, some days,” Virgil says grimly. “It’s like Maddox has put some kind of spell on him.”

“Or a curse, more like.”

Virgil huffs out a laugh. “Or a curse. Patton’s so close to snapping out of it sometimes, so close, you should have seen the look on his face today when—oh, you are not gonna believe this—”

“What?” Remus says, clutching the phone tightly with both hands.

“Maddox,” Virgil says snidely, “has decided that the house is simply too big, and in order to call me to and fro to fulfill his every whim, I am now being called over via bell.”

Remus’s jaw drops. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not,” Virgil says. 

“God, a bell,” Remus says. “Like you’re an animal that needs to be trained.”

“Yeah, like I’m Pavlov’s dog or something, except instead of getting ready for food, I’ll be associating that damn bell with Debbie Jellinsky’s evil twin.”

“Hey, don’t talk down on us evil twins,” Remus says mildly, “I need good representation in media too.”

Virgil laughs, which was the goal.

“So he’s treating you like some kind of servant?”

“I do technically work for your Pa, kid.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever,” Remus says, “but you’re part of the family, too. And even if you did just have a working relationship and nothing else with my Pa, that’s no reason to treat service workers like crap! Seriously, a bell! And Pa didn’t break up with him right then and there?!”

“He looked real embarrassed, I’ll tell you that much,” Virgil says. “Went all red in the face. We’ll Have Words about it later.”

Ohh, We’ll Have Words. That’s Pa-and-Virgil code for let’s not disagree in front of Remus, not that they argue a lot anyway.

“So there’s some hope for him seeing that Maddox, like. Sucks.”

“Yeah, I’d say that for sure.”

“Hm,” Remus murmurs. “Very interesting…”

“I thought you’d think that.”

They’re quiet for a little longer, trying to listen to the other one breathe cross-continentally.

Then, “I just can’t believe he wants to get married that quickly.”

“Oh, Remus,” Virgil sighs.

“I mean—married,” Remus repeats. “You’d think he’d learn after the first whirlwind wedding that that’s maybe not the best move for him.”

“Remus Parker!”

“What? It’s true!”

Remus listens, a warm glow in his chest, as Virgil splutters, trying to walk the line of a response between you’re absolutely correct and you can’t SAY things like that.

“Look—I don’t have any money left, I’m on a payphone,” Remus says, digging through his pockets. “Will you tell Roman that I’ll fax him with a plan? Or I’ll call him later tonight?”

“Yeah, kid, ‘course.”

“And don’t let Pa near the fax machine.”

“Obviously.”

“Good,” Remus says, “good” and they both wait.

Virgil takes a deep breath. “I really miss you, punk,” which is ridden over by a progressive series of beeps. Time’s up.

“Ireallymissyoutoo okay BYE,” Remus hollers over the beeping and hangs up the phone before they can get cut off.

Remus starts to charge out of the phonebox—

Only to run smack into someone waiting for the phone, holding up a newspaper.

“Oh—’scuse me,” Remus says, and then he gets a look at the waiting man’s face.

Grandfather stares down at him with an arched eyebrow. Remus’s stomach plummets down to his feet.

“Uh-oh,” Remus whispers.

“Yes, quite an uh-oh indeed,” Grandfather says mildly, folding up his newspaper into a neat rectangle and sticking it into an inside pocket of his coat. “One does not raise Janus James without knowing how to catch onto an excuse. Light-headed from one sip of wine, phah! What do you say you and I take a little stroll about the park, eh, young man?”

“Okay,” Remus says gloomily, accepting his fate. Grandfather places a hand on his shoulder, turning to walk them down the path.

“What’s this all about, then?

“It’s a pretty long story…” Remus says cautiously.

“Well, it’s a very big park, and we’ve got plenty of time, you know,” Grandfather says. 

“Um,” Remus says. “First of all, you should know. I’m Remus. Not Roman.”

“Goodness!” Grandfather says, in what to Remus is an underreaction but to the British must seem very dramatic indeed. “You have been acting very odd, dear boy…”

“Well,” Remus says. “There ya go. That’s why.”

“Very odd things. Very odd indeed,” Grandfather continues. “Not knowing to cut down Ribena, for starters. And your room’s quite the mess.”

“Roman complained about that a lot at camp.”

“Ah! That’s where the swap’s taken place. And, speaking of odd things…”

Remus braces himself.

“On my way after you, I passed by that dreadful Davies boy that’s been giving Roman such trouble in school, and it seems like he’s gotten his what-for… that bloody nose had nothing to do with you, then?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Remus says as innocently as possible.

“Good lad,” Grandfather says, and slips him a twenty-pound note.

previous chapter | masterpost | next chapter

[askwhatsforlunch]

Sweet Wine and Rosemary Roasted Pork Tenderloin and Potatoes

These Sweet Wine and Rosemary Roasted Pork Tenderloin Roast Potatoes might be a mouthful to say, but they do make a delicious Sunday Lunch! Have a good one!

Ingredients (serves 2):

4 large large Garden Potatoes

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 large Green Onion

1 large garlic clove

3 fluff sprigs fresh rosemary

1 (-gram/-ounce) pork tenderloin

1 1/2 teaspoon fleur de sel or sea salt flakes

1 teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper

1/2 cup sweet white wine (like Loupiac or Sauternes)

Preheat oven to 200°C/395°F.

Thoroughly scrub, rinse, peel and halve Garden Potatoes.

Melt butter and olive oil together in a large roasting tin over a medium-high flame.

 Finely chop Green Onion.

Once the butter is just foaming, add Green Onion and garlic clove. Stir in the rosemary sprigs, too. Cook, a couple of minutes, stirring well.

Add Potatoes to the roasting tin, and cook, 1 minute and a half, tossing them in the butter and herbs to coat generously. 

With a sharp knife, score pork tenderloin.

Make some room over the flame, and add pork tender in the middle of the tin, and brown well on all sides.

Season the tenderloin and Potatoes with fleur de sel and black pepper. Remove from the heat.

Add Loupiac at the bottom of the tin, and place in the middle of the hot oven. Roast, 45 minutes to 1 hour, at 200°C/395°F.

Serve Sweet Wine and Rosemary Roasted Pork Tenderloin Roast Potatoes hot.

[poorly-drawn-frenchman]

Salut mon ami, which wine do you think is the best?

I am not too picky when It comes to wine

If I had to go from my favorites I would pick Sauternes, a nice Port can be good as well

[lordelmelloi2]

Nobody's ready for white wine drinkers anyways because people underestimate white wines/think that it's all just Pinot Grigio or Moscato or Chardonnay or Sauv Blanc. There's nothing intrinsically wrong with any of those varietals but it's just sad to me because it's like. What if I gave you a white wine blend of like Trebbiano/Pecorino/Passerina. What if I gave you a faux Sauternes from Bordeaux that was nearing Sauternes status of sweet wine but wasn't there yet. Bro have you ever tried Fiano de Avellino or Greco di Tufo. I would kill myself for those

[pagingdrmusic]

Mac A Doodle wine lineup!

[whiskyblog]

Ardbeg Whisky Anthology 13 y.o. The Harpy`s Tale

With Ardbeg Anthology, the popular Islay distillery has created a new collection in which experimental single malts are bottled from special casks. The first release is Ardbeg The Harpy's Tale. For the first time ever for Ardbeg, a portion was matured in French Sauternes sweet wine casks for 13 years. Each Ardbeg in the Anthology series combines two beings, just like the mystical mythical creatures of Greek myths. That is why the second part of the bottling comes from classic ex-bourbon casks, also matured for 13 years. An ultimate Ardbeg that creates an interplay of powerful smoke and rich sweetness. As a tribute to this unusual "hybrid" style, the name and packaging is designed: a mythical creature, half man, half bird of ancient mythology.