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Lost in reverie, she absorbs the beauty around, the rhythmic melody of waves colliding with the rocks below, and the distant chirping of birds greeting the new day, she takes another bite of the sumptuous passionfruit, apricot, bourbon vanilla cream tarte, elegantly plated on delicate porcelain adorned with daffodils. Grains of paradise dusted goldenberries disburse ambrosial aromas, still dancing upon her tongue, as she opens her eyes and is once more captivated by the stunningly brilliant, intricate, and eccentric, Egyptian mandaring garnet adorning her finger.
The air buzzed with an unfamiliar symphony - the singsong Cantonese weaving through the rhythmic clatter of mahjong tiles, the melodic blaring of car horns a counterpoint to the sizzle of unseen street food. A deluge of color assaulted his senses; crimson lanterns bobbed overhead, shop windows overflowing with kaleidoscopic silk brocade, and firecrackers dangling from twine snaked across the enduring alleys promising a vibrant chaos. Intrigued, Lev went deeper into the graceful upheaval. The sweet, yeasty aroma of freshly baked buns mingled with the pungent spice of Sichuan peppers.
Ultraviolet. A spectrum beyond the perceivable. An attraction so deep it is unavoidable, like the draw of sweet lilikoi nectar to the carpenter bee, or the crushing grip of an eight-armed inked-up octopus, tossing tart Morello cherries, elderberries, heads of purple cabbage, black currants, umeboshi pickled Japanese plums and blood red pitaya in all directions with impunity and joyful abandon. It is the adrenaline rush of full battle paintball wars, tenacious as teenagers harrying their unsuspecting foes, splashing cherry cola, lilac and lime zest bombs on anything that moves.
The scent of freshly tilled soil, ripe blackberries, and subtle hints of lavender wafted up, carrying with it the whispers of generations past. With each sip, the wine unfolded like a rich tapestry, woven from threads of dark chocolate, black cherry, and a hint of nutmeg – a nod to the merchants who traversed the spice routes of the ancient world. The tannins were smooth and supple, like the worn leather of a well-loved saddle, worn from years of travel and adventure. As she savored the wine, she couldn’t help but think of the pioneering winemakers who crafted vintages sought after by kings and nobles.
The table is laden indeed, for nothing could be finer than roasted eggplant in a dry farmed tomato marinara sauce with fresh basil, Primitivo pomace wrapped leg of lamb, Kumamoto oysters dressed in champagne mignonette, Japanese mackerel nigiri sushi and Manilla clam miso soup. She certainly does not deign to skimp on the butter sprinkled with fleur de sel for the seaweed rye bread, nor turn her nose up at ti leaf wrapped lau lau with sweet purple poi. A perfect single black dahlia trimmed in crimson presides as the centerpiece, and like a tipsy snowball fight, the air shimmers with powdered cinnamon, shines like a fine cognac in a chrystal decanter, and sparkles with a dusting of purple peppercorn flakes, strawberry sorbet and the Amarena cherry waiting at the bottom of a bold old fashioned.
special release
Atop the summit of the majestic Sierra Madres, overlooking the glow of Mazatlan's fiestas below, arrayed in Folklorico finery, swirling, swaying in shades of pastel pinks, corals, peaches and cream, she moves to her own rhythm. As her gaze sweeps down to the sea, you can taste the magic in the air of salty brine, wild Mexican strawberries, warm jasmine, and honeysuckle brought up on the breeze from below.
