Wine And Books Porto 소설 & 이야기

Some chairs were removed. In their place, a long central table was arranged— Now filled with an impressive display of fine wine. Crystal bottles gleamed under the lights. Among them were: Château Margaux 2005 Screaming Eagle Cabernet Sauvignon 2012 Romanée-Conti Grand Cru Penfolds Grange Shiraz Each one— Worth a fortune. Each one— A statement. — Then— The Grand Elder stepped forward once again. Microphone in hand. "Everyone," he said.

I said. Sarah nodded, her eyes shining. "And this 2015 Château Margaux is heavenly." Monsieur Dupont smiled. "Excellent choices! You have refined tastes." We decided on two bottles for Grandpa: the '61 Lafite and a rare '82 Petrus. For ourselves, I selected a bottle of the '15 Margaux, which Sarah adored. As we lingered over the wines, the effects of the alcohol began to show. Sarah giggled, her cheeks flushed.

"Ramona ..." "Yes?" Sophistically he sat down in the chair in front of him and handed her the bottle of wine. He immediately knocked over the bottle and smiled sweetly. “Wow! L’Ermita Priorat 2012 Alvaro Palacios! One of Spain’s most treasured wines and the msterpiece that L’Ermita is worshiped and coveted by many. ” Satisfied with its promise and drank the wine again. "Do you want to ask something?" He sipped the wine from the goblet and slowly sighed. “Do you know a girl named Blessy?”

Waiting for something he couldn't explain. LISBON, PORTUGAL – A SMALL APARTMENT, EARLY MORNING Inside a dim apartment nestled above an old antique bookstore, someone was already wide awake. Elena Duarte sat cross-legged on a cracked leather sofa, sipping slowly from a chipped ceramic mug. The taste of strong Portuguese coffee lingered bitter on her tongue, but she didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes were locked on the flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. The volume was low, but the images said enough.

he raises one to my view, “has one of the rare and expensvie vintages stored.” “Chateau su Sang Noir eighteen ninety-six,” I spell out as he hands it over. “What does that mean?” “Black blood estate. This one here,” he points to a bottle shaped oddly, “is Tenuta Marevelenata eighteen ninety-nine. Means Haunted Sea estate.” “If you look at it that way, this place is haunted with the presence of the maiden.” We burst into laughter at how ridiculous it sounds. “I’ll say we start with this for now. If you may, my kind sir.”

He shrugs. "You are in your own home. Who cares if you get drunk or tipsy?" I smile. "I do. I don't want to make a mistake to piss off Dex." He nods. "I will keep an eye on you, okay?" I nod. "Sounds like a good idea to me." He chuckles as Hunter walks back in. "Pappy Van Winkle 20 years old. And Domaine de la Romanee-Conti, Romanee-Conti 1988," he said. I look to Luca for any ideas. He smiles and takes them from him.

"Interesting. The drink gives a different vibe than the one I am used to. What's its name?" " My apologies Mr. Knight. I mean James - I don't have an answer for that question. But I believe my assistant can do so!" She turns her head toward a redhead that was following her, then she asked her. " What was the name of the wine again?" "1811 at the Chateau d’Yquem - one of the the best white wines ever made around the world." The assistant explained. Violetta then faced me with a curious look on her face. " Aren't you going to try your drink, Nina?"

The girl sighed but checked her book and blinked twice before looking at us again. “Um, yes. Your table is ready, Mr. Grey. A bottle of 2011 Château Malescasse is waiting, compliments of Mr. Beaumont.” Her attitude completely changed as she moved to bring us to our table. “Who’s Mr. Beaumont, and why would he give us a bottle of expensive wine?” I whispered as we were led to a private table overlooking the Willamette River.

Tiffany says robotically as she shoves a bottle of wine my direction. "That's what he said," Geni mumbles behind me. I ignore her and smile at Tiffany, hoping she didn't hear. Judging by the look on her face and the way Rowen squeezes her shoulder, I think we all heard her. "I'm glad you could be here." I take the wine and look at the label. "Petrolo Galatrona 2013 straight from Tuscany. Wow. This is a great year." "You know wine?" she asks, brows crinkling. "With the way you suck down those yard-long margaritas, I thought all you liked were cheap drinks."

Another, a more exotic mix of mango, avocado, and grilled shrimp, tossed in a light citrus vinaigrette. Of course, no billionaire's dinner would be complete without an impressive wine selection. Three crystal decanters sat gleaming beside each setting. One, a deep ruby red, held a rare vintage of Château Margaux, its label proclaiming a year known for its exceptional harvest. The other, a pale gold, contained a crisp, dry Chablis, perfectly chilled and ready to complement the seafood. The last one was her favorite, a fruity wine with a red ribbon tied around it.