Current Wines
A feast, a feast! Make your
way into the great hall, where a lordly host bedecked in velvet and leather, a
bit sweaty and musky but emanating scents of wild berry, eucalyptus and
cinnamon, embraces you in greeting. Fireplaces that could house mastodons glow
with smoldering coals, warming the stone-lined manse as you take your seat at a
table filled high with roasted lamb, smoked hams, raspberry compotes, plum
pudding and blackberry puffs. A boisterous guest befriends you, boasting of his
journey to an exotic island, where breezy currents of white pepper and anise
swirl amid wafts of moss and fungi: He plans to return any day now, he’ll have
you know. Your attention, please! The lord of the manor raises a goblet - a
toast! - but you are muted by your new acquaintance’s nonsensical clamor
rattling in your head.
Red lace on a grass skirt, dusty garnet chain on a bronzed god. A bit meaty, and thick, a whiff of mocha emitting from the shore of a tropical island. A Polynesian warrior dances a two-step Maori number on the steppes where the sea salt meets the duff of the forest, channeling Jason Mamoa in pukka shells, as he tends to the roasted pig on a spit, calling forth a fire spiced with cinnamon, hard cherry candy, pipe tobacco and blackberry cola. Black olive mingles with cumin and coriander, strawberry fruit leathers. A bit lush with caramel and butterscotch, too, adding to the festive air of a paradise jubilee. Luau-palooza! Book your cabana suite now.
A plucky lothario settles into the fine-grained leatherette, soaking in the nefariousness and intrigue around him. He is a master of this speakeasy, as he entertains acolytes and rivals bidding his good graces. A sassy vixen distracts him with a cocktail of cassis and cola liqueur, a serving of rum-raisin pudding, seductive with blackberry, peppercorn and cedar. He leans into her ear and whispers, “I used to love you then, now I love you again.” A cigarette girl saunters past, trailing sweet tobacco, dried herbs, cherry and plum. The swarthy underworld bosses in the house take to the freshly sanded dance floor to celebrate their illicit and ill-gotten fortunes, raising glasses filled with dusty libations. There is danger afoot, but for now, mirth and merriment.
Pulling back a curtain of red lace and velvet from a window overlooking a garden of orchid and lilacs, she breathes in aromas of dried flowers and hardwood. She will lead a search soon for chanterelles in the afternoon heat. She reaches for a candy drop, succulent and tart, watermelon and raspberry, cherry and strawberry mingled with spice, cola and blackberries, mouthwatering and playful. She thoughtfully anticipates the hunt ahead, steeds pursuing braying hounds, kicking up dust and smoke, lavender and sage, in the hills where snow princesses take refuge from dark queens amid the brambles. To the riders, a toast for their avocation, to the mountain maidens, a toast to their fortitude. Let’s ride, she exclaims.
