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Below stairs, fresh seaweed rye bread is baking while a feast replete with glazed ham, cloves, Castelvetrano olives, Marcona almonds, and butterscotch pudding awaits the unexpected guest. Suddenly it happens; the dream comes true. A beaming visage appears, happiness captured in a look of fearless love. This moment could last forever as the endless refrain of an ageless tale, sotto voce, emanates from a far-off credenza. Whatever forces have shaped the savage creature, his heart is now lost to this fair flower. As the final velvety crimson bloom descends, a declaration of love is uttered and amid profound transformation, he knows they will be together, always.
Appellation
Adelaida District
Ancient customs, joyous incantations, and unbridled mirth ignite the soul, a myriad of celestial sparks dancing in the encroaching twilight. Then, the feast. A veritable banquet of taro, succulent slow-roasted pork and the refreshing tang of Kokoda with its notes of coconut and lime. This earthly bounty is further heightened by a cornucopia of nature's most abundantly ripe, exotic jewels: the blush of pink pineapple, the sweet mystery of lychee, the citrus burst of kumquats, the lushness of guava, and the sun-drenched sweetness of mango.
The beast rises slowly from the depths, its vast form silhouetted against the surface of the water. A megalodon in full splendor is revealed, a colossus of the deep...This is what it craved, nay, what it yearned for the taste of, for the smell of, evoking long dormant memories of dragon fruit and coriander. Finally, the megalodon turns and swims away, its hunger sated, its dominance asserted over the oceans once again.
A new type of predator, stalking steadily through the twilight, into the violent violet purple haze; torn asunder and sewn back together again like a Frankenstein fennel, bounding with blueberry blue eggplant, deep obsidian leek, and green garlic foliage brushing against a quicksilver shimmering in its black licorice coat. Ah, but the eye cannot track its movements, so swift they are, and so opaque, fleeting as a pebble induced ripple in a hidden cistern of kefir lime and lavender tea.
Moroccan mint and cherry cola-colored petticoats coalesce, swishing softly as they sing their siren song along cobblestone streets smooth as the individual drupelets of a raspberry, or the taste buds dotting the surface of your tongue, interspersed with tantalizing turquoise suits and heady hibiscus handkerchiefs chasing diligently after, offering chartreuse and mezcal lime elixirs, intended to lure astray with their promise of a fantastic Faustian bargain.
