“
Mr. D, wearing his leopard-skin jogging suit and rummaging through the refrigerator.
He looked up lazily. "Do you mind?"
Where's Chiron!" I shouted.
How rude." Mr. D took a swig from a jug of grape juice. "Is that how you say hello?"
Hello," I amended. "We're about to die! Where's Chiron?
”
”
Rick Riordan (The Titan’s Curse (Percy Jackson and the Olympians, #3))
“
And there, shimmering in the Mist right next to us, was the last person I wanted to see: Mr. D, wearing his leopard-skin jogging suit and rummaging through the refrigerator. He looked up lazily. "Do you mind?"
Where's Chiron!" I shouted.
How rude." Mr. D took a swig from a jug of grape juice. "Is that how you say hello?"
Hello," I amended. "We're about to die! Where's Chiron?
”
”
Rick Riordan (The Titan’s Curse (Percy Jackson and the Olympians, #3))
“
Do you seriously envision St. Paul or Calvin or Luther opening bottles of Welch's Grape Juice in the sacristy before the service? Luther at least would turn over in his grave.
”
”
Robert Farrar Capon (The Supper of the Lamb: A Culinary Reflection (Modern Library Food))
“
The oversized chairs are white; the walls, covered with occasional landscape paintings, are white; and the plush carpet is the whitest of all. I'm insanely glad I didn't bring a cup of grape juice with me.
”
”
Wendy Mass
“
For a few moments I want to be 5 years old again. I want someone to plunk me down in front of a Disney movie and ask me if I want apple juice or grape.
”
”
Jennifer Richard Jacobson (Paper Things)
“
Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have
Immortal longings in me: now no more
The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip:
Yare, yare, good Iras; quick. Methinks I hear
Antony call; I see him rouse himself
To praise my noble act; I hear him mock
The luck of Caesar, which the gods give men
To excuse their after wrath: husband, I come:
Now to that name my courage prove my title!
I am fire and air; my other elements
I give to baser life. So; have you done?
Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips.
Farewell, kind Charmian; Iras, long farewell.
Kisses them. IRAS falls and dies
Have I the aspic in my lips? Dost fall?
If thou and nature can so gently part,
The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch,
Which hurts, and is desired. Dost thou lie still?
If thus thou vanishest, thou tell'st the world
It is not worth leave-taking.
”
”
William Shakespeare (Antony and Cleopatra)
“
The juice of the grape is the liquid quintessence of concentrated sunbeams.
”
”
Thomas Love Peacock (Melincourt; Or Sir Oran Hautton)
“
Young man,
two are the forces most precious to mankind.
The first is Demeter, the Goddess.
She is the Earth -- or any name you wish to call her --
and she sustains humanity with solid food.
Next came Dionysus, the son of the virgin,
bringing the counterpart to bread: wine
and the blessings of life's flowing juices.
His blood, the blood of the grape,
lightens the burden of our mortal misery.
Though himself a God, it is his blood we pour out
to offer thanks to the Gods. And through him, we are blessed.
”
”
Euripides (The Bacchae)
“
She gave me another of those long keen looks, and I could see that she was again asking herself if her favourite nephew wasn't steeped to the tonsils in the juice of the grape.
”
”
P.G. Wodehouse (Plum Pie (Jeeves, #13.5))
“
The darkness spread like a grape-juice stain on the carpet, as the city was hit with a blackout.
”
”
Kate O'Hearn (The Flame of Olympus (Pegasus, #1))
“
These Americans believed that one great male god ruled the world. Sometimes they divided him into three parts, which they called father, son, and holy ghost. They ate crackers and wine or grape juice, believing that they were eating the son's body and drinking his blood. If they believed strongly enough, they would live on forever after they died.
”
”
James W. Loewen (Lies My Teacher Told Me: Everything Your American History Textbook Got Wrong)
“
I learned something in the juice isle, and that is, I don't know what's going on with cranberries, but they're getting in all the other juices. Whoever the salesman for cranberries does a great job. He's showing up everywhere. "Hey what do you got? Apples? Well let's put some cranberries in them; we'll call it cran-apple - go fifty fifty. What do you got? Grapes? What about cran-grape? What do you got? Mangos? Cran-mango! What do you got? Pork chops? Cran-chops!
”
”
Brian Regan
“
Grape juice at the communion table symbolizes the historical impotence of Christ’s blood, Christ’s gospel, Christ’s church, and Christ’s expanding kingdom. Grape juice stays ‘bottled up’, confined to the historical skins of Palestine.
”
”
Gary North
“
Come boy, and pour for me a cup
Of old Falernian. Fill it up
With wine, strong, sparkling, bright, and clear;
Our host decrees no water here.
Let dullards drink the Nymph's pale brew,
The sluggish thin their blood with dew.
For such pale stuff we have no use;
For us the purple grape's rich juice.
Begone, ye chilling water sprite;
Here burning Bacchus rules tonight!
”
”
Catullus (Selections From Catullus: Translated into English verse with an Introduction on the theory of Translation)
“
How good it is when you have roast meat or suchlike foods before you, to impress on your mind that this is the dead body of a fish, this is the dead body of a bird or pig; and again, that the Falernian wine is the mere juice of grapes, and your purple edged robe simply the hair of a sheep soaked in shell-fish blood!
And in sexual intercourse that it is no more than the friction of a membrane and a spurt of mucus ejected.
How good these perceptions are at getting to the heart of the real thing and penetrating through it, so you can see it for what it is!
This should be your practice throughout all your life: when things have such a plausible appearance, show them naked, see their shoddiness, strip away their own boastful account of themselves.
Vanity is the greatest seducer of reason: when you are most convinced that your work is important, that is when you are most under its spell.
”
”
Marcus Aurelius
“
[Suffering] brings out graces that cannot be seen in a time of health. It is the treading of the grapes that brings out the sweet juices of the vine; so it is affliction that draws forth submission, weanedness from the world, and complete rest in God. Use afflictions while you have them.
”
”
Robert Murray M'Cheyne (Comfort in Sorrow)
“
I went to the juice isle, I learned something. Cranberries are taking over everything. What do you got, apples? Put some cranberrise in there, make it 50/50. Cran-apple. Grapes? Cran-grape. Mangos? Cran-mango. Pork chops? Cran-chop!
”
”
Brian Regan
“
Like seeing roasted meat and other dishes in front of you and suddenly realizing: This is a dead fish. A dead bird. A dead pig. Or that this noble vintage is grape juice, and the purple robes are sheep wool dyed with shellfish blood. Or making love—something rubbing against your penis, a brief seizure and a little cloudy liquid. Perceptions like that—latching onto things and piercing through them, so we see what they really are. That’s what we need to do all the time—all through our lives when things lay claim to our trust—to lay them bare and see how pointless they are, to strip away the legend that encrusts them. Pride is a master of deception: when you think you’re occupied in the weightiest business, that’s when he has you in his spell.
”
”
Marcus Aurelius (Meditations)
“
On top of the Tree of Life - in the Hall of the Palace - someone had found somebody for whom he had been searching for a long, long time. And the tears of joy which were shed became the fruit of the Tree of Life, the grapes whose juice is distilled by the flute of the blue god.
”
”
Miguel Serrano
“
Empty orators and silent scholars
died without having understood Being and non-Being.
Ignorants, my brothers, let us continue tasting
the juice of the grape attentively and let
the authorities satisfy themselves
with dry raisins.
”
”
Omar Khayyám
“
Our death is our wedding with eternity
What is the secret? "God is One."
The sunlight splits when entering the windows of the house.
This multiplicity exists in the cluster of grapes;
It is not in the juice made from the grapes.
For he who is living in the Light of God,
The death of the carnal soul is a blessing.
Regarding him, say neither bad nor good,
For he is gone beyond the good and the bad.
Fix your eyes on God and do not talk about what is invisible,
So that he may place another look in your eyes.
It is in the vision of the physical eyes
That no invisible or secret thing exists.
But when the eye is turned toward the Light of God
What thing could remain hidden under such a Light?
Although all lights emanate from the Divine Light
Don't call all these lights "the Light of God";
It is the eternal light which is the Light of God,
The ephemeral light is an attribute of the body and the flesh.
...Oh God who gives the grace of vision!
The bird of vision is flying towards You with the wings of desire.
”
”
Jalal ad-Din Muhammad ar-Rumi
“
When life gives you lemons make grape juice and let the world wonder how you did it.
”
”
Anonymous
“
You’re seventeen, not twelve. You’re old enough to drive and have sex, and next year you’re allowed to murder people in the military. I think you can handle a little bit of sour grape juice.
”
”
Wendy Heard (She's Too Pretty to Burn)
“
The fields that push up the corn, and the water that rushes down the ravine, the juice of the grape, and the life of a man as it flows past him, are all one and the same thing. The sole unity in life is the unity of rhythm. A rhythm to which we all dance; men, apples, ravines, ploughed fields, carts among the corn, houses, horses, and the sun. The stuff that is in you, Gauguin, will pound through a grape tomorrow, because you and the grape are one. When I paint a peasant labouring in the field, I want people to feel the peasant flowing down into the soil, just as the corn does, and the soil flowing up into the peasant. I want them to feel the sun pouring into the peasant, into the field, the corn, the plough, and the horses, just as they all pour back into the sun. When you begin to feel the universal rhythm in which everything on earth moves, you begin to understand life….
”
”
Irving Stone (Lust for Life)
“
She didn't look like any motel manager I had ever seen. More likely an actress who hadn't quite made the grade down south, or a very successful amateur tart on the verge of turning pro. Whatever her business was, there had to be sex in it. She was as full of sex as a grape is full of juice, and so young that it hadn't begun to sour.
”
”
Ross Macdonald (Find a Victim (Lew Archer, #5))
“
Herbs carried in special baskets, bread wrapped in knotted, muslin cloths, thick stews soured with unripe grape juice, carrots boiled with sugar and rosewater, yoghurt hung from dripping bags, its whey dried in sheets on trays in the sun.
”
”
Jennifer Klinec (The Temporary Bride: A Memoir of Love and Food in Iran)
“
The next morning we experienced our very first “full English breakfast,” which consisted of tea, orange juice, cookies, oatmeal, granola, berries, bananas, croissants, grapes, pineapples, prunes, yogurt, five kinds of cold cereal, eggs, hash browns, back bacon, sausage, smoked salmon, tomatoes, mushrooms, beans, toast, butter, jam, jelly, and honey. I don’t know how the British do it.
”
”
Jared Brock (A Year of Living Prayerfully)
“
This is why Jesus is hymned not as grape juice but as wine: because He is dangerous and excessive. He is more than you need, and He is more than pleasure, and if you attend to Him, you will find so much there that you will be derailed completely. And you will think your heart might break. And then, per Louis de Blois, He will withdraw and you will be miserable and sick until He returns.
”
”
Lauren F. Winner (Wearing God: Clothing, Laughter, Fire, and Other Overlooked Ways of Meeting God)
“
On top of the Tree of Life - in the Hall of the Palace - someone had found somebody for whom he had been searching for a long, long time. And the tears of joy which were shed became the fruit of the Tree of Life, the grapes whose juice if distilled by the flute of the blue god.
”
”
Miguel Serrano (The Visits of the Queen of Sheba)
“
The rules about communion at Friday mass, for example, made absolutely no sense. We’d be in there for an hour of kneeling, standing, sitting, kneeling, standing, sitting, kneeling, standing, sitting, and by the end of it I’d be starving, but I was never allowed to take communion, because I wasn’t Catholic. The other kids could eat Jesus’s body and drink Jesus’s blood, but I couldn’t. And Jesus’s blood was grape juice. I loved grape juice. Grape juice and crackers—what more could a kid want? And they wouldn’t let me have any. I’d argue with the nuns and the priest all the time. “Only Catholics can eat Jesus’s body and drink Jesus’s blood, right?” “Yes.” “But Jesus wasn’t Catholic.” “No.” “Jesus was Jewish.” “Well, yes.” “So you’re telling me that if Jesus walked into your church right now, Jesus would not be allowed to have the body and blood of Jesus?” “Well…uh…um…” They never had a satisfactory reply. One morning before mass I decided, I’m going to get me some Jesus blood and Jesus body. I snuck behind the altar and I drank the entire bottle of grape juice and I ate the entire bag of Eucharist to make up for all the other times that I couldn’t. In
”
”
Trevor Noah (Born a Crime: Stories from a South African Childhood)
“
Consider how textbooks treat Native religions as a unitary whole. ... "These Native Americans ... believed that nature was filled with spirits. Each form of life, such as plants and animals, had a spirit. Earth and air held spirits too. People were never alone. They shared their lives with the spirits of nature." ... Stated flatly like this, the beliefs seem like make-believe, not the sophisticated theology of a higher civilization. Let us try a similarly succinct summary of the beliefs of many Christians today: "These Americans believed that one great male god ruled the world. Sometimes they divided him into three parts, which they called father, son, and holy ghost. They ate crackers and wine or grape juice, believing that they were eating the son's body and drinking his blood. If they believed strongly enough, they would live on forever after they died."
Textbooks never describe Christianity this way. It's offensive. Believers would immediately argue that such a depiction fails to convey the symbolic meaning or the spiritual satisfaction of communion.
”
”
James W. Loewen
“
On every side was the silence, pressing upon them with a tangible presence. It affected their minds as the many atmospheres of deep water affect the body of the diver. It crushed them with the weight of unending vastness and unalterable decree. It crushed them into the remotest recesses of their own minds, pressing out of them, like juices from the grape, all the false ardours and exaltations and undue self-values of the human soul, until they perceived themselves finite and small, specks and motes, moving with weak cunning and little wisdom amidst the play and inter-play of the great blind elements and forces.
”
”
Jack London (White Fang)
“
11 Stress Relieving Foods -Bananas -Pasta -Almonds -Grapes -Green Tea -Oatmeal -Chocolate -Water melon -Orange Juice -Cornflakes -Tuna.
”
”
Ravi Jain (Life Hacks: 1000+ Collection of Amazing Life Hacks)
“
as far as I knew, no kingdom had ever gone to war with another over fermented grape juice. Though
”
”
Lisa Shearin (Wedding Bells, Magic Spells (Raine Benares, #7))
“
Nothing goes better with crackers and PB than grape juice.
”
”
Kim Holden (Gus (Bright Side, #2))
“
Only fools fail to recognize you, knowing no sleep but the shadow which you, taking pity, cast over us in the twilight before true night. They do not taste you in the golden flood of grapes, in the magic oil of the almond tree and the brown juice of the poppy. They do not know that it is you who hovers over a tender maiden’s bosom, making a heaven of her lap − never suspect that it is you who comes to them out of old stories, opening the doors to heaven and carrying the key to the dwellings of the blessed, a silent messenger of infinite mysteries.
”
”
Novalis (Hymns to the Night)
“
We are custodians. We are stewards. Our actions are being watched by others around us. Someone is looking up to us as we take each breath. We can be just a grape or we can be the juice that offers simplicity, nourishment and refreshment. Extract and empty your goodness. Pass it into the hearts of the people looking up to you. It will multiply beyond your highest good.
”
”
Angie karan
“
A Corymbus for Autumn
How are the veins of thee, Autumn, laden?
Umbered juices,
And pulpèd oozes
Pappy out of the cherry-bruises,
Froth the veins of thee, wild, wild maiden.
With hair that musters
In globèd clusters,
In tumbling clusters, like swarthy grapes,
Round thy brow and thine ears o'ershaden;
With the burning darkness of eyes like pansies,
Like velvet pansies
Where through escapes
The splendid might of thy conflagrate fancies;
With robe gold-tawny not hiding the shapes
Of the feet whereunto it falleth down,
Thy naked feet unsandalled;
With robe gold-tawny that does not veil
Feet where the red
Is meshed in the brown,
Like a rubied sun in a Venice-sail.
”
”
Francis Thompson (Poems of Francis Thompson.)
“
At the end of the day, it's just grape juice. No one needs anything that I make. The last thing we need is another wine on the shelf. So that just makes me grateful for the people who do enjoy it.
”
”
Andre Hueston Mack
“
Wine came from grapes and grapes were fruit. If you were going to judge every wine connoisseur, you would also have to walk around the playground and slap the box of grape juice out of every child's chubby little hands as well.
”
”
Eric Dimbleby (Eulogies II: Tales From the Cellar)
“
He played with the idea, and grew wilful; tossed it into the air and transformed it; let it escape and recaptured it; made it iridescent with fancy, and winged it with paradox. The praise of folly, as he went on, soared into a philosophy, and Philosophy herself became young, and catching the mad music of Pleasure, wearing, one might fancy, her wine-stained robe and wreath of ivy, danced like a bacchante over the hills of life, and mocked the slow Silenus for being sober. Facts fled before her like frightened forest things. Her white feet trod the huge press at which wise Omar sits, till the seething grape-juice rose round her bare limbs in waves of purple bubbles, or crawled in red foam over the vat’s black, dripping, sloping sides.
”
”
Oscar Wilde (The Picture of Dorian Gray and Other Writings)
“
Pierre mixed the salad. The romaine and cress he doused with walnut oil chilled to an emulsion, turning it with wooden forks so that the bruises showed on the green in dark lines. He poured on the souring of wine vinegar and the juice of young grapes, seasoned with shallots, pepper and salt, a squeeze of anchovy, and a pinch of mustard. At the Faison d’Or the salad was in wedlock with the roast.” (p.24)
”
”
Idwal Jones (High Bonnet: A Novel of Epicurean Adventures (Modern Library Food))
“
Along with ducks, I’m somewhat of a wine expert. I know there are three kinds of wine: Red, white, and pink, for those connoisseurs like me who mix the two for optimal chugging. I should be a sommelier and rent out my alcoholic grape juice experience to sophisticated buyers.
”
”
Jarod Kintz (Music is fluid, and my saxophone overflows when my ducks slosh in the sounds I make in elevators.)
“
The dining table was covered with platters of food: everything and pumpernickel bagels, everything minibagels, everything flagels, bialys, cream cheese, scallion cream cheese, salmon spread, tofu spread, smoked and pickled fish, pitch-black brownies with white chocolate swirls like square universes, blondies, rugelach, out-of-season hamantaschen (strawberry, prune, and poppy seed), and “salads”—Jews apply the word salad to anything that can’t be held in one’s hand: cucumber salad, whitefish and tuna and baked salmon salad, lentil salad, pasta salad, quinoa salad. And there was purple soda, and black coffee, and Diet Coke, and black tea, and enough seltzer to float an aircraft carrier, and Kedem grape juice—a liquid more Jewish than Jewish blood. And there were pickles, a few kinds. Capers don’t belong in any food, but the capers that every spoon had tried to avoid had found their way into foods in which they really didn’t belong, like someone’s half-empty half-decaf. And at the center of the table, impossibly dense kugels bent light and time around them. It was too much food by a factor of ten. But it had to be.
”
”
Jonathan Safran Foer (Here I Am)
“
Surely it is an excellent plan, when you are seated before delicacies and choice foods, to impress upon your imagination that this is the dead body of a fish, that the dead body of a bird or a pig; and again, that the Falernian wine is grape juice and that robe of purple a lamb's fleece dipped in a shellfish's blood; and in matters of sex intercourse, that it is the attrition of an entrail and a convulsive expulsion of a mere mucus. Surely these are excellent imaginations, going to the heart of actual facts and penetrating them so as to see the kind of things they really are. You should adopt this practice all through your life, and where things make an impression which is very plausible, uncover their nakedness, see into their cheapness, strip off the profession on which they vaunt themselves. For pride is an arch-seducer of reason, and just when you fancy you are most certainly busy in good works, then you are mostly certainly guilty of imposture.
”
”
Marcus Aurelius
“
All the great biographies of the Bible involve suffering. The great souls grown in the Lord’s vineyard all know what it is to suffer. American Christianity, on the other hand, is conditioned to avoid suffering at all cost. But what a cost it is! Grape juice Christianity is what is produced by the purveyors of the motivational-seminar, you-can-have-it-all, success-in-life, pop-psychology Christianity. It’s a children’s drink. It comes with a straw and is served in a little cardboard box. I don’t want to drink that anymore. I don’t want to serve that anymore. I want the vintage wine. The kind of faith marked by mystery, grace, and authenticity.
”
”
Brian Zahnd (Water To Wine: Some of My Story)
“
Like seeing roasted meat and other dishes in front of you and suddenly realising: This is a dead fish. A dead bird. A dead pig. Or that this noble vintage is grape juice, and the purple robes are sheep wool dyed with shellfish blood. Or making love - something rubbing against your penis, a brief seizure and a little cloudy liquid. (6.13)
”
”
Marcus Aurelius (Meditations)
“
How dare they speak so unkindly of stories? Stories never did anything to them! Stories are only here to love you and look after you and show you a good time… Stories don’t even ask anything in return but not to have grape juice spilled on them, and, every once in a while, to be thought of fondly, years and years after you shut their covers.
”
”
Catherynne M. Valente (Osmo Unknown and the Eightpenny Woods)
“
If my spirit is pressed even harder, I wondered, will it yield something marvelous—the spirit’s equivalent to olive oil or the juice of grapes?
”
”
Janet Benton (Lilli de Jong)
“
Cursed be the soothing juice of the grape!
Cursed be love's ecstatic call!
Cursed be hope! Cursed be faith!
Yet cursed be patience most of all!
”
”
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
“
Men are like fine wine. They start out as grapes and it is up to women to stomp the juice out of them until they turn into something acceptable to have dinner with.
”
”
Preeti Shenoy (Why We Love the Way We Do)
“
Instead of expensive fish eggs and stinky cheeses, Jay had packed Doritos and chicken soft tacos—Violet’s favorites. And instead of grapes, he brought Oreos.
He knew her way too well.
Violet grinned as he pulled out two clear plastic cups and a bottle of sparkling cider. She giggled. “What? No champagne?”
He shrugged, pouring a little of the bubbling apple juice into each of the flimsy cups. “I sorta thought that a DUI might ruin the mood.” He lifted his cup and clinked—or rather tapped—it against hers. “Cheers.” He watched her closely as she took a sip.
”
”
Kimberly Derting (Desires of the Dead (The Body Finder, #2))
“
Another piece of Zygo-Gogozizzle 24 ended up landing in a grape vineyard on planet Pinot. The Zygo-Gogozizzle 24 was quickly absorbed into the soil and was subsequently soaked up into the grapes. These grapes, which had until recently been harvested almost to extinction, suddenly became self-aware and super intelligent. They banded together in bunches and rose up to defeat their oppressors. The battle lasted one whole night, but sadly, it ended the next morning when the sun came up. The rebellion shriveled when the poor grapes ran out of juice. Apparently there’s a raisin for everything.
”
”
Dav Pilkey
“
The dinner is delicious- the poivre sauce is perfect with the medium-rare duck, which cuts like butter. The potatoes are creamy, well seasoned, and cheesy, the rabe bright green, croquant and garlicky. Gustav has brought along a bottle of Cru Bourgeois, and I'm drinking it like grape juice.
Dessert is an assortment of small tarts- vanilla crème brûlée with a chocolate crust, key lime, and pear.
”
”
Hannah Mccouch (Girl Cook: A Novel)
“
Ageing is not easy, Sennhora Castro. It's a terrible, incurable pathology. And great love is another pathology. It starts well. It's a most desirable disease. One wouldn't want to do without it. It's like yeast that corrupts the juice of grapes. One loves, one loves, one persists in loving-the incubation period can be very long- and then, with death, comes the heart break. Love must always meet its unwanted end.
”
”
Yann Martel (The High Mountains of Portugal)
“
If you would know experimentally the preciousness of the promises, and enjoy them in your own heart, meditate much upon them. There are promises which are like grapes in the winepress; if you will tread them the juice will flow.
”
”
Charles Haddon Spurgeon (Morning and Evening)
“
At the same time that middle- and upper-middle-class mothers were urged to pipe Mozart into their wombs when they're pregnant so their kids would come out perfectly tuned, the government told poor mothers to get the hell out of the house and get to work--no more children's aid for them. Mothers like us--with health care, laptops, and Cuisinarts--are supposed to replicate the immaculate bedrooms we see in Pottery Barn Kids catalogs, with their designer sheets and quilts, one toy and one stuffed animal atop a gleaming white dresser, and a white rug on the floor that has never been exposed to the shavings from hamster cages, Magic Markers accidentally dropped with their caps off, or Welche's grape juice.... we've been encouraged to turn our backs on other mothers who pick their kids' clothes out of other people's trash and sometimes can't buy a can of beans to feed them. How has it come to seem perfectly reasonable--even justified-- that one class of mother is suppoed to sew her baby's diapers out of Egyptian cotton from that portion of the Nile blessed by the god Osiris while another class of mother can't afford a single baby aspirin?
”
”
Susan J. Douglas (The Mommy Myth: The Idealization of Motherhood and How It Has Undermined All Women)
“
What passes for wine among us, is not the juice of the grape. It is an adulterous mixture, brewed up of nauseous ingredients, by dunces, who are bunglers in the art of poison-making; and yet we, and our forefathers, are and have been poisoned by this cursed drench, without taste or flavour—The only genuine and wholesome beveridge in England, is London porter, and Dorchester table-beer; but as for your ale and your gin, your cyder and your perry, and all the trashy family of made wines, I detest them as infernal compositions, contrived for the destruction of the human species.
”
”
Tobias Smollett (The Expedition of Humphry Clinker)
“
Chilled Honeydew and Toasted Almond Milk Soup • MAKES 4 SERVINGS • THIS REFRESHING SUMMER SOUP HAS a delightful sweetness and stunning pale green hue from the melon, enhanced with a little honey and balanced with lime juice. It gets a lightly nutty taste and creamy body from almond milk, which can be made easily as written here, with toasted almonds, a step I think is well worth it, but for a shortcut, you can also use store-bought. Coconut or cashew milk would work nicely too. The garnish of sweet-tart green grapes and floral, fresh basil ribbons adds a beautiful crown of flavor and texture.
”
”
Ellie Krieger (You Have It Made: Delicious, Healthy, Do-Ahead Meals)
“
Like seeing roasted meat and other dishes in front of you and suddenly realizing: This is a dead fish. A dead bird. A dead pig. Or that this noble vintage is grape juice, and the purple robes are sheep wool dyed with shellfish blood. Or making love—something rubbing against your penis, a brief seizure and a little cloudy liquid. Perceptions like that—latching onto things and piercing through them, so we see what they really are. That’s what we need to do all the time—all through our lives when things lay claim to our trust—to lay them bare and see how pointless they are, to strip away the legend that encrusts them.
”
”
Marcus Aurelius (Meditations)
“
Not only does alcohol carry its own calories, it may end up increasing intake. I mean, the whole purported point of an aperitif is to stimulate appetite. When people drink a glass of wine or beer before lunch, they may eat more food than if they had drunk the same volume and calories of grape juice and other nonalcoholic beverages.4531 Those drinking a beer with quadruple the regular alcohol content ate two hundred calories more at a subsequent meal compared to those drinking a regular beer—and that was above and beyond the beer’s own calories.4532 So it’s like a reverse-preload effect that just makes things worse.
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Michael Greger (How Not to Diet)
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Because the grape was proudly multipurpose, the shelf life it had to offer the ancient world was practically without rival. Grapes could be eaten fresh, straight from the vine. Dried, they were renamed raisins, and in the Bible, they were eaten plain or baked into cakes. Pressed, the grapes produced fresh juice, or far more significantly, they could be utterly transformed, possessing new properties and chemistry, into vinegars and wines.
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Beth Moore (Chasing Vines: Finding Your Way to an Immensely Fruitful Life)
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NUTRIENT DENSITY SCORES OF THE TOP 30 SUPER FOODS To make it easy for you to achieve Super Immunity, I’ve listed my Top 30 Super Foods below. These foods are associated with protection against cancer and promotion of a long, healthy life. Include as many of these foods in your diet as you possibly can. You are what you eat. To be your best, you must eat the best! Collard greens, mustard greens, turnip greens 100 Kale 100 Watercress 100 Brussels sprouts 90 Bok choy 85 Spinach 82 Arugula 77 Cabbage 59 Broccoli 52 Cauliflower 51 Romaine lettuce 45 Green and red peppers 41 Onions 37 Leeks 36 Strawberries 35 Mushrooms 35 Tomatoes and tomato products 33 Pomegranates / pomegranate juice 30 Carrots / carrot juice 30/37 Blackberries 29 Raspberries 27 Blueberries 27 Oranges 27 Seeds: flax, sunflower, sesame, hemp, chia 25 (avg) Red grapes 24 Cherries 21 Plums 11 Beans (all varieties) 11 Walnuts 10 Pistachio nuts 9 If you are a female eating
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Joel Fuhrman (Super Immunity: A Comprehensive Nutritional Guide for a Healthier Life, Featuring a Two-Week Meal Plan, 85 Immunity-Boosting Recipes, and the Latest in ... and Nutritional Research (Eat for Life))
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Then Bacchus and Silenus and the Maenads began a dance, far wilder than the dance of the trees; not merely a dance of fun and beauty (though it was that too) but a magic dance of plenty, and where their hands touched, and where their feet fell, the feast came into existence- sides of roasted meat that filled the grove with delicious smells, and wheaten cakes and oaten cakes, honey and many-colored sugars and cream as thick as porridge and as smooth as still water, peaches, nectarines, pomegranates, pears, grapes, straw-berries, raspberries- pyramids and cataracts of fruit. Then, in great wooden cups and bowls and mazers, wreathed with ivy, came the wines; dark, thick ones like syrups of mulberry juice, and clear red ones like red jellies liquefied, and yellow wines and green wines and yellow-green and greenish-yellow.
But for the tree people different fare was provided. When Lucy saw Clodsley Shovel and his moles scuffling up the turf in various places (when Bacchus had pointed out to them) and realized that the trees were going to eat earth it gave her rather a shudder. But when she saw the earths that were actually brought to them she felt quite different. They began with a rich brown loam that looked almost exactly like chocolate; so like chocolate, in fact, that Edmund tried a piece of it, but he did not find it all nice. When the rich loam had taken the edge off their hunger, the trees turned to an earth of the kind you see in Somerset, which is almost pink. They said it was lighter and sweeter. At the cheese stage they had a chalky soil, and then went on to delicate confections of the finest gravels powdered with choice silver sand. They drank very little wine, and it made the Hollies very talkative: for the most part they quenched their thirst with deep draughts of mingled dew and rain, flavored with forest flowers and the airy taste of the thinnest clouds.
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C.S. Lewis (Prince Caspian (Chronicles of Narnia, #2))
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Josh and Rashmi are making out-I can actually see tongue-so I turn to my bread and grapes.How biblical of me.
The grapes are smaller than I'm used to, and the skin is slightly textured. Is that dirt? I dip my napkin in water and dab at the tiny purple globes. It helps, but they're still sort of rough. Hmm. St. Clair and Meredith stop talking. I glance up to find them staring at me in matching bemusement. "What?"
"Nothing," he says. "Continue your grape bath."
"They were dirty."
"Have you tried one?" she asks.
"No,they've still got these little mud flecks." I hold one up to show them. St. Clair plucks it from my fingers and pops it into his mouth.I'm hypnotized by his lips, his throat, as he swallows.
I hesitate. Would I rather have clean food or his good opinion?
He picks up another and smiles. "Open up."
I open up.
The grape brushes my lower lip as he slides it in. It explodes in my mouth, and I'm so startled by the juice that I nearly spit it out. The flavor is intense, more like grape candy than actual fruit. To say I've tasted nothing like it before is an understatement. Meredith and St. Clair laugh. "Wait until you try them as wine," she says.
St. Clair twirls a forkful of pasta. "So. How was French class?"
The abrupt subject change makes me shudder. "Professeur Gillet is scary. She's all frown lines." I tear off a piece of baguette. The crust crackles, and the inside is light and springy. Oh,man. I shove another hunk into my mouth.
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Stephanie Perkins (Anna and the French Kiss (Anna and the French Kiss, #1))
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In general, the sweeter fruits (bananas, apples, grapes, pears) are less nutritionally dense and will also lead to a sharper rise in blood sugar, which, as a migraineur, is something you wish to avoid. This doesn’t mean you need to give up sweet fruits, just eat them in moderation, and always in the context of a larger meal (which helps to blunt the blood sugar rise). For many, eating a sweet fruit on an empty stomach is a big migraine trigger. The same goes for concentrated fruit juices, which should be avoided.
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Josh Turknett (The Migraine Miracle: A Sugar-Free, Gluten-Free, Ancestral Diet to Reduce Inflammation and Relieve Your Headaches for Good)
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At her feet, a luminous path lit the way through the grassy field. It was made entirely from glow sticks; each of the radiant lights had been painstakingly set into the ground at perfect intervals, tracing a curved trail that shone through the darkness.
Apparently, Jay had been busy.
Near the water’s edge, at the end of the iridescent pathway and beneath a stand of trees, Jay had set up more than just a picnic. He had created a retreat, an oasis for the two of them.
Violet shook her head, unable to find the words to speak.
He led her closer, and Violet followed, amazed.
Jay had hung more of the luminous glow sticks from the low-hanging branches, so they dangled overhead. They drifted and swayed in the breeze that blew up from the lake.
Beneath the natural canopy of limbs, he had set up two folding lounge chairs and covered them with pillows and blankets.
“I’d planned to use candles, but the wind would’ve blown ‘em out, so I had to improvise.”
“Seriously, Jay? This is amazing.” Violet felt awed. She couldn’t imagine how long it must have taken him.
“I’m glad you like it.”
He led her to one of the chairs and drew her down until she was sitting before he started unpacking the cooler.
She half-expected him to pull out a jar of Beluga caviar, some fancy French cheeses, and Dom Perignon champagne. Maybe even a cluster of grapes to feed to her…one at a time. So when he started laying out their picnic, Violet laughed.
Instead of expensive fish eggs and stinky cheeses, Jay had packed Daritos and chicken soft tacos-Violet’s favorites. And instead of grapes, he brought Oreos.
He knew her way too well.
Violet grinned as he pulled out two clear plastic cups and a bottle of sparkling cider. She giggled. “What? No champagne?”
He shrugged, pouring a little of the bubbling apple juice into each of the flimsy cups. “I sorta thought that a DUI might ruin the mood.” He lifted his cup and clinked-or rather, tapped-it against hers. “Cheers.” He watched her closely as she took a sip.
For several moments, they were silent. The lights swayed above them, creating shadows that danced over them. The park was peaceful, asleep, as the lake’s waters lapped the shore. Across from them, lights from the houses along the water’s edge cast rippling reflections on the shuddering surface. All of these things transformed the ordinary park into a romantic winter rendezvous.
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Kimberly Derting (Desires of the Dead (The Body Finder, #2))
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I pushed the thought away. Doubt was like rot. Excise it at the first speckling, the first stain, the first faint stench of decay. But then—I suppose because my mind was on the wine—I thought of that other kind of rot, the soft gray fungus that sometimes afflicts the late grape harvest if the air turns unexpectedly moist. That rot causes the grapes to yield up a heavy, viscous juice of stupendously rich flavor. The wine pressed from such grapes was the best of all. Maybe doubt was like that sometimes. Maybe it, too, could yield rich fruit. Perhaps, then, it was right to doubt. Perhaps I had a right to doubt.
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Geraldine Brooks (The Secret Chord)
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Blood is the price we pay for access to God, and it comes at great expense. God has invited us to His winepress so that He can do with us that which is necessary to reconnect something temporal to its eternal source. Don’t be surprised and begin to despair at the onset of the crushing you will endure. Don’t run from it; run to it, because you’re not being crushed simply for crushing’s sake. ... Your pain is not going to last and, like the labor pains of an expectant mother, will produce new life.
The crushing is meant to do two things: get out of you what’s in you, and get the true you out of the thin skin that encases you. The crushing of the grape not only expresses the juice from the flesh, but it also separates the unusable parts of the grape from the juice.
Crushing requires purification. Do you know anyone who would purify something they do not intend to use? ... Your crushing cannot be the end, because God would never purify you if He didn’t intend to use you. Your crushing is nothing more than the beginning of a glorious transformation process that will reveal to the world and you who and what you really are. Just like the grapes being trampled comes first, so does your crushing. There is more to come—so much more.
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T.D. Jakes (Crushing: God Turns Pressure into Power)
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He's right,you know," Edward was saying almost before I'd made it into my room. I had crept through the house unnecessarily. No one was home.
"Your assertions have lost a bit of their value these days, Mr. Willing."
"You know," he repeated.
I tossed my coat onto the bed. The stark black and white of my quilt was broken by a purple stain now, the result of a peaceful interlude with grape juice turning into a gentle wrestling match.The stain was the size of my palm and shaked like, I thought, an alligator. Alex insisted it was a map of Italy. Later, we'd dripped the rest of the juice onto the thick pages of my drawing pad, finding pictures in the splotches like the Rorschach inkblots used in psychology.
"Well," he'd said in response to my pagoda, antheater, and Viking, "verdict's in.You're nuts."
The pictures were tacked to my wall, unaccustomed spots of color. I'd penciled in our choices. Viking (E), pineapple (A). Lantern (E), cheese (A). Crown (E), birthday cake (A) were over my desk, over Edward.
I turned on my computer. It binged cheerfully at me. I had mail.
From: abainbr@thewillingschool.org
To: fmarino@thewillingschool.org
Date: December 15, 3:50 p.m.
Subect: Should you choose to accept...
Tuesday. I'll pick you up at 10:00 a.m. Ask no questions. Tell no one.
-Alex
"Ah, subterfuge" came from over the desk.
"Shut up, Edward," I said.
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Melissa Jensen (The Fine Art of Truth or Dare)
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Tonight they had been presented with a heavily spiced and scented barbecue lamb; rabbits stewed in fermented grape-juice with red peppers and whole cloves of garlic; meat-balls stuffed with brown truffles which literally melted in the mouth; a harder variety of meat-balls fried in coriander oil and served with triangular pieces of chilli-paste fried in the same oil; a large container full of bones floating in a saffron-coloured sauce; a large dish of fried rice; miniature vol-au-vents and three different salads; asparagus, a mixture of thinly sliced onions, tomatoes, cucumbers, sprinkled with herbs and the juice of fresh lemons, chick-peas soaked in yoghurt and sprinkled with pepper.
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Tariq Ali (The Islam Quintet: Shadows of the Pomegranate Tree, The Book of Saladin, The Stone Woman, A Sultan in Palermo, and Night of the Golden Butterfly)
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This is religion. Voodoo and spells. I want to believe in it, the creams, the rejuvenating lotions, the transparent unguents in vials that slick on like roll-top glue. “Don’t you know what that junk is made of?” Ben said once. “Ground-up cocks’ combs.” But this doesn’t deter me, I’d use anything if it worked – slug juice, toad spit, eye of newt, anything at all to mummify myself, stop the drip drip of time, stay more or less the way I am.
But I own enough of this slop already to embalm all of the girls in my high school graduating class, who must need it by now as much as I do. I stop only long enough to allow myself to be sprayed by a girl giving away free squirts of some venomous new perfume. The femme fatale must be back, Veronica Lake slinks again. The stuff smells like grape Kool-Aid. I can’t imagine it seducing anything but a fruit fly.
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Margaret Atwood (Cat’s Eye)
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We would never know the music of the harp—if the strings were left untouched. We would never enjoy the juice of the grape—if it were not trodden in the winepress. We would never discover the sweet perfume of cinnamon—if it were not pressed and beaten. We would never feel the warmth of fire—if the coals were not utterly consumed. The wisdom and power of the great Workman are revealed by the trials through which His vessels of mercy are permitted to pass. Present afflictions tend also to heighten future joy. There must be dark shadows in the picture—to bring out the beauty of the lights. Could we be so supremely blessed in heaven—if we had not known the curse of sin and the sorrow of earth? Will not peace be sweeter—after conflict? Will not rest be more welcome—after toil? Will not the bliss of the glorified—be enhanced the recollection of past sufferings?
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Charles Haddon Spurgeon (Morning and Evening: Daily Readings)
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He pulled a battered red photo album from his truck’s glove compartment and showed me pictures of green Azorean fields divided by hedges of lilac-colored hydrangeas. He showed me waves crashing against black volcanic rock and his ancient stone house next to the sea, the home where he returned every summer. “Over there the air is so clean, so nice. The ocean is right there. The fish are fresh, you catch and eat them, and the potatoes are so good, you won’t believe it. “We make wine. Put on shorts and get in there and smash grapes, and when you drink right away is sweet like juice. Every year when we get back from there, we’re fat,” Morais said. He loved his island house in the Azores so much that at the end of each summer, when he left, he had to have someone else close the door for him. “I’m a guy that came from the old country. I never go to school five minutes in this country, and still I work and I do good. I love my money. God bless this country,” he said. “But when I leave to close my door over there, I cry like a baby. I try so hard not to, but I cry.
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Diana Marcum (The Tenth Island: Finding Joy, Beauty, and Unexpected Love in the Azores)
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He played with the idea and grew wilful; tossed it into the air and transformed it; let it escape and recaptured it; made it iridescent with fancy and winged it with paradox. The praise of folly, as he went on, soared into a philosophy, and philosophy herself became young, and catching the mad music of pleasure, wearing, one might fancy, her wine-stained robe and wreath of ivy, danced like a Bacchante over the hills of life, and mocked the slow Silenus for being sober. Facts fled before her like frightened forest things. Her white feet trod the huge press at which wise Omar sits, till the seething grape-juice rose round her bare limbs in waves of purple bubbles, or crawled in red foam over the vat’s black, dripping, sloping sides. It was an extraordinary improvisation. He felt that the eyes of Dorian Gray were fixed on him, and the consciousness that amongst his audience there was one whose temperament he wished to fascinate seemed to give his wit keenness and to lend colour to his imagination. He was brilliant, fantastic, irresponsible. He charmed his listeners out of themselves, and they followed his pipe, laughing. Dorian Gray never took his gaze off him, but sat like one under a spell, smiles chasing each other over his lips and wonder growing grave in his darkening eyes.
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Oscar Wilde (The Picture of Dorian Gray)
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How marvellous useful it is for a man to represent unto himself meats, and all such things that are for the mouth, under a right apprehension and imagination! as for example: This is the carcass of a fish; this of a bird; and this of a hog. And again more generally; This phalernum, this excellent highly commended wine, is but the bare juice of an ordinary grape. This purple robe, but sheep's hairs, dyed with the blood of a shellfish. So for coitus, it is but the attrition of an ordinary base entrail, and the excretion of a little vile snivel, with a certain kind of convulsion: according to Hippocrates his opinion. How excellent useful are these lively fancies and representations of things, thus penetrating and passing through the objects, to make their true nature known and apparent! This must thou use all thy life long, and upon all occasions: and then especially, when matters are apprehended as of great worth and respect, thy art and care must be to uncover them, and to behold their vileness, and to take away from them all those serious circumstances and expressions, under which they made so grave a show. For outward pomp and appearance is a great juggler; and then especially art thou most in danger to be beguiled by it, when (to a man's thinking) thou most seemest to be employed about matters of moment.
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Marcus Aurelius (Meditations)
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Next, I drink a few more glasses of water containing liquid chlorophyll to build my blood. If I’m stressed, I’ll have some diluted black currant juice for an antioxidant boost to the adrenals. Once I’m hungry, I sip my way through a big green alkaline smoothie (a combination of spinach, cucumber, coconut, avocado, lime, and stevia is a favorite) or tuck into a fruit salad or parfait. And tomatoes, cucumbers, and avocados are fruits, too; a morning salad is a good breakfast and keeps the sugar down. But, this kind of morning regime isn’t for everyone. You can get really hungry, particularly when you first start eating this way. And some people need to start the day with foods that deliver more heat and sustenance. If that’s how you roll, try having fruit or a green smoothie and then waiting for 30 minutes (if your breakfast includes bananas, pears, or avocados, make it 45) before eating something more. As a general rule, sour or acidic fruits (grapefruits, kiwis, and strawberries) can be combined with “protein fats” such as avocado, coconut, coconut kefir, and sprouted nuts and seeds. Both acid fruits and sub-acid fruits like apples, grapes, and pears can be eaten with cheeses; and vegetable fruits (avocados, cucumbers, tomatoes, and peppers) can be eaten with fruits, vegetables, starches, and proteins. I’ve also found that apples combine well with raw vegetables. Leafy greens (spinach, kale, collard greens), along with the vegetable fruits noted above, are my go-to staples. They are the magic foods that combine well with every food on the planet. I blend them together in green smoothies, cold soups, and salads.
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Tess Masters (The Blender Girl: Super-Easy, Super-Healthy Meals, Snacks, Desserts, and Drinks--100 Gluten-Free, Vegan Recipes!)
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The Venetians catalogue everything, including themselves. ‘These grapes are brown,’ I complain to the young vegetable-dealer in Santa Maria Formosa. ‘What is wrong with that ? I am brown,’ he replies. ‘I am the housemaid of the painter Vedova,’ says a maid, answering the telephone. ‘I am a Jew,’ begins a cross-eyed stranger who is next in line in a bookshop. ‘Would you care to see the synagogue?’
Almost any Venetian, even a child, will abandon whatever he is doing in order to show you something. They do not merely give directions; they lead, or in some cases follow, to make sure you are still on the right way. Their great fear is that you will miss an artistic or ‘typical’ sight. A sacristan, who has already been tipped, will not let you leave until you have seen the last Palma Giovane. The ‘pope’ of the Chiesa dei Greci calls up to his housekeeper to throw his black hat out the window and settles it firmly on his broad brow so that he can lead us personally to the Archaeological Museum in the Piazza San Marco; he is afraid that, if he does not see to it, we shall miss the Greek statuary there.
This is Venetian courtesy. Foreigners who have lived here a long time dismiss it with observation : ‘They have nothing else to do.’ But idleness here is alert, on the qui vive for the opportunity of sightseeing; nothing delights a born Venetian so much as a free gondola ride. When the funeral gondola, a great black-and-gold ornate hearse, draws up beside a fondamenta, it is an occasion for aesthetic pleasure. My neighbourhood was especially favoured this way, because across the campo was the Old Men’s Home. Everyone has noticed the Venetian taste in shop displays, which extends down to the poorest bargeman, who cuts his watermelons in half and shows them, pale pink, with green rims against the green side-canal, in which a pink palace with oleanders is reflected. Che bello, che magnifici, che luce, che colore! - they are all professori delle Belle Arti. And throughout the Veneto, in the old Venetian possessions, this internal tourism, this expertise, is rife. In Bassano, at the Civic Museum, I took the Mayor for the local art-critic until he interupted his discourse on the jewel-tones (‘like Murano glass’) in the Bassani pastorals to look at his watch and cry out: ‘My citizens are calling me.’ Near by, in a Paladian villa, a Venetian lasy suspired, ‘Ah, bellissima,’ on being shown a hearthstool in the shape of a life-size stuffed leather pig. Harry’s bar has a drink called a Tiziano, made of grapefruit juice and champagne and coloured pink with grenadine or bitters. ‘You ought to have a Tintoretto,’ someone remonstrated, and the proprietor regretted that he had not yet invented that drink, but he had a Bellini and a Giorgione.
When the Venetians stroll out in the evening, they do not avoid the Piazza San Marco, where the tourists are, as Romans do with Doney’s on the Via Veneto. The Venetians go to look at the tourists, and the tourists look back at them. It is all for the ear and eye, this city, but primarily for the eye. Built on water, it is an endless succession of reflections and echoes, a mirroring. Contrary to popular belief, there are no back canals where tourist will not meet himself, with a camera, in the person of the another tourist crossing the little bridge. And no word can be spoken in this city that is not an echo of something said before. ‘Mais c’est aussi cher que Paris!’ exclaims a Frenchman in a restaurant, unaware that he repeats Montaigne. The complaint against foreigners, voiced by a foreigner, chimes querulously through the ages, in unison with the medieval monk who found St. Mark’s Square filled with ‘Turks, Libyans, Parthians, and other monsters of the sea’. Today it is the Germans we complain of, and no doubt they complain of the Americans, in the same words.
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Mary McCarthy
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There is no fault that can’t be corrected [in natural wine] with one powder or another; no feature that can’t be engineered from a bottle, box, or bag. Wine too tannic? Fine it with Ovo-Pure (powdered egg whites), isinglass (granulate from fish bladders), gelatin (often derived from cow bones and pigskins), or if it’s a white, strip out pesky proteins that cause haziness with Puri-Bent (bentonite clay, the ingredient in kitty litter). Not tannic enough? Replace $1,000 barrels with a bag of oak chips (small wood nuggets toasted for flavor), “tank planks” (long oak staves), oak dust (what it sounds like), or a few drops of liquid oak tannin (pick between “mocha” and “vanilla”). Or simulate the texture of barrel-aged wines with powdered tannin, then double what you charge. (““Typically, the $8 to $12 bottle can be brought up to $15 to $20 per bottle because it gives you more of a barrel quality. . . . You’re dressing it up,” a sales rep explained.)
Wine too thin? Build fullness in the mouth with gum arabic (an ingredient also found in frosting and watercolor paint). Too frothy? Add a few drops of antifoaming agent (food-grade silicone oil). Cut acidity with potassium carbonate (a white salt) or calcium carbonate (chalk). Crank it up again with a bag of tartaric acid (aka cream of tartar). Increase alcohol by mixing the pressed grape must with sugary grape concentrate, or just add sugar. Decrease alcohol with ConeTech’s spinning cone, or Vinovation’s reverse-osmosis machine, or water. Fake an aged Bordeaux with Lesaffre’s yeast and yeast derivative. Boost “fresh butter” and “honey” aromas by ordering the CY3079 designer yeast from a catalog, or go for “cherry-cola” with the Rhône 2226. Or just ask the “Yeast Whisperer,” a man with thick sideburns at the Lallemand stand, for the best yeast to meet your “stylistic goals.” (For a Sauvignon Blanc with citrus aromas, use the Uvaferm SVG. For pear and melon, do Lalvin Ba11. For passion fruit, add Vitilevure Elixir.) Kill off microbes with Velcorin (just be careful, because it’s toxic). And preserve the whole thing with sulfur dioxide.
When it’s all over, if you still don’t like the wine, just add a few drops of Mega Purple—thick grape-juice concentrate that’s been called a “magical potion.” It can plump up a wine, make it sweeter on the finish, add richer color, cover up greenness, mask the horsey stink of Brett, and make fruit flavors pop. No one will admit to using it, but it ends up in an estimated 25 million bottles of red each year. “Virtually everyone is using it,” the president of a Monterey County winery confided to Wines and Vines magazine. “In just about every wine up to $20 a bottle anyway, but maybe not as much over that.
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Bianca Bosker (Cork Dork: A Wine-Fueled Adventure Among the Obsessive Sommeliers, Big Bottle Hunters, and Rogue Scientists Who Taught Me to Live for Taste)
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You might, for example, be excused for declining an invitation to dinner when the menu offered was dead calf with fungus in heated dough, scorched ground tubers, and cabbage stalks, all swilled down with rotten grape juice, and topped off with the dust of burnt berries in scalding water diluted with congealed oozings from the udders of a cow. You might well decline such a bill of fare but you would miss an excellent meal of veal and mushrooms, roast potatoes and spring greens, chased by a bottle of hock and finished with a steaming cup of coffee and cream. What's in a name? Just about everything.
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Paul Roche
“
I cannot be more specific, because the process does not happen in books but in living persons. People have drunk grape juice and recovered from cancer. If you can successfully restore balance to the bodymind, then the patient’s immune system will respond. The immune cells do not judge whether the doctor believes in conventional medicine, homeopathy, or Ayurveda. Insofar as it can change our participation in disease, every system is capable of working.
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Deepak Chopra (Quantum Healing (Revised and Updated): Exploring the Frontiers of Mind/Body Medicine)
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The men of Westeros are ever rushing,”complained Salladhor Saan. “What good is this, I ask you? He who hurries through life hurries to his grave.”He belched. “The Lord of Casterly Rock has sent his dwarf to see to King’s Landing. Perhaps he hopes that his ugly face will frighten off attackers, eh? Or that we will laugh ourselves dead when the Imp capers on the battlements, who can say? The dwarf has chased off the lout who ruled the gold cloaks and put in his place a knight with an iron hand.”He plucked a grape, and squeezed it between thumb and forefinger until the skin burst. Juice ran down between his fingers.
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George R.R. Martin (A Clash of Kings (A Song of Ice and Fire, #2))
“
She was always cheerful—until she turned eighty and started going blind. She had a great deal of religious faith, and everyone assumed that she would adjust and find meaning in her loss—meaning and then acceptance and then joy—and we all wanted this because, let’s face it, it’s so inspiring and such a relief when people find a way to bear the unbearable, when you can organize things in such a way that a tiny miracle appears to have taken place and that love has once again turned out to be bigger than fear and death and blindness. But this woman would have none of it. She went into a deep depression and eventually left the church. The elders took communion to her in the afternoon on the first Sunday of the month—homemade bread and grape juice for the sacrament, and some bread to toast later—but she wouldn’t be a part of our community anymore. It must have been too annoying for everyone to be trying to manipulate her into being a better sport than she was capable of being. I always thought that was heroic of her, that it spoke of such integrity to refuse to pretend that you’re doing well just to help other people deal with the fact that sometimes we face an impossible loss.
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Anne Lamott (Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith)
“
But eventually, I made a round of peanut butter covered toast with a small glass of grape juice.
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Calvin Westbrook (Adored (The Guided Chronicles #1))
“
Canned breakfast juices had first appeared during Prohibition, motivated by grape growers who could no longer sell their products as wine, and by orange growers in California and Florida burdened with surplus oranges during years of glut.
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Gary Taubes (The Case Against Sugar)
“
Red wine and Hennessy
She fell out of her bottle when she fell into love, cup running over, overflowing emotions in glass- red stained palet, on a pallet on the grass, to a quilt on the floor -affixed between lips and red lipstick on a shirt that he wore.
A familiar place, she know she's been here before
Reminiscent of the evening
On his shirt that she tore
............
Drop by drop, puddle in glass getting lower- impressions in her gut, rim of her glass, hour glass figure moves counter clockwise - while absorbing the contents of merlot.
Hard liquor and fine wine
.............
Red Wine and Hennessy
A wicked twist on some champagne tips
French nails, manicures over grapes
Whoever said wine and liquor don't mix?
Last night I had six
Bottle caps, corks, bedazzled juice
Merlot was her name - slim waist - good taste slinger neck, red lace. Long stem, pedestal - hands embraced her face
.............
room temperature, her body temperature ... personality of two, she's mellow and chill...
aged to perfection- pop the seal- watch the erection ... splatters on the floor- covers the rug,
Residue of red lipstick-
Merlot stained lips match the kiss on his neck
............
Chasing fantasy through the Red Sea
While chasing that with a white BC
How much will she pour- how much will she drink
How much more before her ship sinks
...........
A full body lush, blackberry crush
Medium sized Bordeaux
Intense velvety plum
I asked her where she's from
She said she's international
She's longer thinking rational
..........
Sips in sync with blinking eyes
She sips too much to realize
Every time you pour into me, my bottle gets more empty-
Glass falling to the floor
She staggers to the door
Glass shatters her feet
She stumbles to her seat
She's still asking for more
But she falls to the floor
Red lipstick in the mud
She covers up the blood
............
She lays in her wine
She forgot about the time
Clock on the wall
Footsteps in the hall
Pounding in her head
She rushes to the bed
.........
She lays motionless ... but her head is racing
Her heart is pacing
Her lungs are gasping - air, she needs air
Rolls to her side, brings her self to sit up
She gags and gags until She throws it all up-
...........
Wakes up the next morning
Dazed and confused
She's laying in a bed
That she's not used to
She moves slowly, where did everyone go?
She checks the time- it's a quarter pass 4
sounds on the other side of the door
Are Muffled by the sound of a knock at the door
...........
Looks around for her little red dress
Notices a blotch - a red stain on her breast
Lipstick smeared an accessory to her mess
She reached for her clothes and saw a note on the desk.
..........
Dearly beloved,
I want to see you again
I'd love to have to back
I think we make a great blend
I tried to wake you
Because I had to go
And
Oh by the way, my name is merlot
"Little Black Bird
”
”
Niedria Dionne Kenny (Love, Lust and Regrets: While the lights were off)
“
My lunch consisted of a glass of wine (which the waiter solemnly called “grape juice”)
”
”
Laurie R. King (Locked Rooms (Mary Russell and Sherlock Holmes #8))
“
We walked and talked amid the vines. The bees followed and buzzed the juicy offerings. I watched as they sipped, tonguing the vined fruit. We walked in the heat and scent and the Father talked of the natural world and hinted at books to be read and Music, and how the world reflected some larger potential. I struggled with his words. No one had ever spoken to me like that. His words seduced. Their easy flow thrummed and I could see things that day that I had never imagined. We walked and I noted the bees, how they fed and then staggered in ragged lines across the broad grape leaves. The Father said they were making themselves drunk on the older berries in which the juice had begun to ferment in the hot sun. They wobbled and stumbled like old men. He said the bees were drunk, but they fell to the ground and buzzed one last time and then lay still. He said they were drunk.
They seemed dead . . .
”
”
Michael Nanfito (Rotten Fruit in an Unkempt Garden: A Memoir in Poetry and Prose)
“
We would never know the music of a harp if the strings were left untouched, enjoy the juice of grapes if they were not trodden in a winepress, discover the sweet scent of cinnamon if it were not pressed and beaten, nor feel the warmth of a fire if the logs were not burned. The wisdom and power of the great Artisan are discovered due to the trials through which His vessels of mercy are permitted to pass. And our present afflictions also tend to heighten our future joy just as a painting must have various levels of darker shades to reveal the beauty of the light.
”
”
Jim Reimann (Morning by Morning: The Devotions of Charles Spurgeon)
“
I always launch my Crash & Burn sessions with an object in the room, but you can start any way you want. On this day, there was a bowl of grapes on a table, so I started with the word grape. Slash marks indicate the moments when new ideas or memories came crashing in. Grape. Grape juice. White grape juice / When I was a kid I stepped on a broken Mello Yello glass bottle and cut my foot — got infected — happened by a pond / oh, the pond, Yawgoog had three different waterfronts and Ashaway Aquatic Center —
”
”
Matthew Dicks (Storyworthy: Engage, Teach, Persuade, and Change Your Life through the Power of Storytelling)
“
I’m not drunk.” “Sure you’re not.” “I’m just… elevated by the juice of the grape.
”
”
Olivia Hayle (Saved by the Boss (New York Billionaires, #2))
“
This is why Jesus is hymned not as grape juice but as wine: because He is dangerous and excessive. He is more than you need, and He is more than pleasure, and if you attend to Him, you will find so much there that you will be derailed completely.
”
”
Lauren F. Winner (Wearing God: Clothing, Laughter, Fire, and Other Overlooked Ways of Meeting God)
“
Fo' de Lawd!' he say, 'dat mule drunk! he be'n drinkin' de wine.' En sho' 'nuff, de mule had pas' right by de tub er fraish grape-juice en push' de kiver off'n de bairl, en drunk two er th'ee gallon er de wine w'at had been stan'in' long ernough fer ter begin ter git sha'p.
”
”
Charles W. Chesnutt (The Conjure Woman and Other Conjure Tales [with Biographical Introduction])
“
Summary of Nutrient Timing Protocol Consume a meal containing a low-glycemic carbohydrate and lean protein source about two to three hours before training. Keep fat consumption to a minimum. Have a large piece of fruit and some whey protein (amounting to 0.1 gram per pound of body weight) within half an hour of training. Consume a large cup of coffee before training. Consume 8 ounces of fluid immediately before your workout and then take small sips of water every 15 or 20 minutes while training. After training, consume a drink containing high-glycemic carbohydrate (such as grape juice or cranberry juice) and a quality protein powder. Generally, you should consume about 0.5 gram of carbohydrate per pound of body weight (0.25 gram per pound of body weight for those with decreased insulin sensitivity) and 0.25 gram of protein per pound of body weight.
”
”
Brad Schoenfeld (The M.A.X. Muscle Plan)
“
Day 4: Berry Peachy 2 handfuls kale 1 handful spinach 2 cups water 2 apples, cored, quartered 11/2 cups frozen peaches 11/2 cups frozen mixed berries 2 packets stevia 2 tablespoons ground flaxseeds OPTIONAL: 1 scoop of protein powder Place leafy greens and water into blender and blend until mixture is a green juice-like consistency. Stop blender and add remaining ingredients. Blend until creamy. Day 5: Peach Berry Spinach 3 handfuls spinach 2 cups water 1 cup frozen peaches 1 handful fresh or frozen seedless grapes 11/2 cups blueberries 3 packets stevia to sweeten 2 tablespoons ground flaxseeds OPTIONAL: 1 scoop of protein powder Place spinach and water into blender and blend until mixture is a green juice-like consistency. Stop blender and add remaining ingredients. Blend until creamy. Day 6: Pineapple Spinach 2 cups fresh spinach, packed 1 cup pineapple chunks 2 cups frozen peaches 2 bananas, peeled 11/2 packets stevia 2 cups water 2 tablespoons ground flaxseeds OPTIONAL: 1 scoop of protein powder Place spinach and water into blender and blend until mixture is a green juice-like consistency. Stop blender and add remaining ingredients. Blend until creamy. Day 7: Pineapple Berry 2 handfuls spring mix greens 2 handfuls spinach 1 banana, peeled 11/2 cups pineapple chunks 11/2 cups frozen mango chunks 1 cup frozen mixed berries 3 packets stevia 2 cups water 2 tablespoons ground flaxseeds OPTIONAL: 1 scoop of protein powder Place leafy greens and water into blender and blend until mixture is a green juice-like consistency. Stop blender and add remaining ingredients. Blend until creamy. Day 8: Spinach Kale Berry 2 handfuls kale 2 handfuls spinach 2 cups water 1 apple, cored, quartered 1 banana, peeled 11/2 cups frozen blueberries 2 packets stevia 2 tablespoons ground flaxseeds OPTIONAL: 1 scoop of protein powder Place leafy greens and water into blender and blend until mixture is a green juice-like consistency. Stop blender and add remaining ingredients. Blend until creamy. Day 9: Apple Mango 3 handfuls spinach 2 cups water 1 apple, cored, quartered 11/2 cups mangoes 2 cups frozen strawberries 1 packet stevia 2 tablespoons ground flaxseeds OPTIONAL: 1 scoop of protein powder Place spinach and water into blender and blend until mixture is a green juice-like consistency. Stop blender and add remaining ingredients to blender. Blend until creamy. Day 10: Pineapple Kale 2 handfuls kale 1 handful spring mix greens 2 cups water 11/2 cups frozen peaches 2 handfuls pineapple chunks 2 packets stevia 2 tablespoons ground flaxseeds OPTIONAL: 1 scoop of protein powder Place leafy greens and water into blender and blend until mixture is a green juice-like consistency. Stop blender and add remaining ingredients. Blend until creamy.
”
”
J.J. Smith (10-Day Green Smoothie Cleanse: Lose Up to 15 Pounds in 10 Days!)
“
When anyone from seaboard or country caught leprosy, they left relatives and friends and went to Pratofungo to spend the rest of their lives waiting for the disease to devour them. There were rumours of great jollifications to greet each new arrival; from afar songs and music were to be heard coming from the lepers' houses till night-fall. Many things were said of Pratofungo, although no healthy person had ever been there; but all rumours were agreed in saying that life there was a perpetual party. Before becoming a leper colony the village had been a great place for prostitutes and visited by sailors of every race and religion; and the women there, it seemed, still kept the licentious habits of those times. The lepers did no work on the land. except for a vine-yard of strawberry grapes whose juice kept them the whole year round in a state of simmering tipsiness. The lepers spent most of their time playing strange instruments of their own invention, such as harps with little bells attached to the string, and singing in falsetto, and painting eggs with daubs of every colour as if for a perpetual Easter.
”
”
Italo Calvino (Il visconte dimezzato)
“
2 grilled chicken breasts, diced 1 avocado, peeled and diced 5-6 green lettuce leaves, cut in stripes 3-4 green onions, finely chopped 5-6 radishes, sliced 7-8 grape tomatoes 2 tbsp lemon juice 3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil 1 tsp dried mint salt and black pepper, to taste
”
”
Alissa Noel Grey (The Low Cholesterol Diet: 101 Delicious Low Fat Soup, Salad, Main Dish, Breakfast and Dessert Recipes for Better Health and Natural Weight Loss (Nutrition and Health))
“
One well known English professor of Greek burst out in anger at our saving that a potent potion was drunk at Fleusis: we had touched him at a sensitive spot. He seemed to wish to join the class of those pastors in our Bible Belt who, when Prohibition was flying high, seriously pretended that Jesus served grape juice, not wine, at his Last Supper!
”
”
R. Gordon Wasson (Persephone's Quest: Entheogens and the Origins of Religion)
“
The others climbed into the back of the truck with the pitchforks and the pinestraw, leaving Stacy all alone in the front with the man. She sat as close to the door as she could and held the handle tight in case she had to jump out or something. Suspiciously, she looked at the big paper bag on the seat between them.
The man, still frowning, put the truck into gear. With a jolt, they started off. Before they had gone very far he slammed on the brakes, throwing them all forward.
He doesn’t even have seatbelts, Stacy thought. But how can you think of dumb things like that when you’re about to die?
“Sorry,” he said gruffly. “I forgot. I’ve got to make one stop before we go to the dairy barns.”
Throwing the truck into reverse, he backed up a few yards to a narrow road that led into the woods. A small sign that read “Private! Closed to the Public” was posted by the side of the road.
Oh dear, Stacy thought, we’re doomed now. How many times did Mom ever tell me never to get into a car with a stranger? And now I’ve gone and done that and here we are heading down an off-limits road into the woods. She had a cold chill, and this time it wasn’t from her wet clothes.
They bounced down the rutted road. In the mirror outside her window, she could see the kids hanging on to the side of the truck for dear life.
The arms of the low pines brushed the roof of the truck with a skeletal scraping down. At least they came to an opening. Before her Stacy could see rows and rows of vines. “Vineyards,” she whispered to herself.
Suddenly, the man slammed on his brakes. The truck jarred to a stop. Without a word he threw open the door and climbed out. Now we’re in for it, thought Stacy. I just know he’s coming around this side to get me.
She squeezed her eyes shut tight. Over the idling hum of the motor she could hear him walking. Then there was a squeal from the kids in the back of the truck. Oh, my goodness, she thought, squinching her eyes tighter and tighter until they hurt. What is he doing to them?
In a moment he slung the door of the truck open. In spite of herself she turned and looked at him. He had a big grin on his face. And his shirt was covered with a big purple stain. Blood!
“Your shirt,” she stuttered, pointing a quivery finger toward him.
He laughed. “Juice,” he said. “Juice from the grapes.”
Stacy sniffed. Sure enough it did smell like grape juice. She got up the nerve to look in the rearview mirror. The kid’s heads bobbed in the back.
Slowly she ungripped her hand from the door handle. The man waved an arm towards the vineyards. “We grow grapes for wine here. It’s just another way to use the land like Mr. Vanderbilt thought you should.”
Stacy just stared at his shirt again and said, “Oh.
”
”
Carole Marsh (The Mystery of the Biltmore House (Real Kids! Real Places! (Paperback)))
“
Mr. Harris had three boxes of Melba toast, a can of smoked oysters, a wheel of Gouda cheese, two bunches of grapes, a package of smoked salmon, a can of sardines, a bottle of sparkling grape juice and a can of cocktail weenies in his pants. I simply ask you to please use common sense. Thank you.
”
”
N.M. Silber (The Law of Attraction (Lawyers in Love, #1))