Always & Forever: A Saga of Slavery and Deliverance (The Plantation Series Book 1) by Gretchen Craig

Author:Gretchen Craig [Craig, Gretchen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gretchen Craig
Published: 2014-11-24T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Phanor’s new life presented him with long hours and new challenges, but he greeted each day with a happy heart. Being Monsieur Cherleu’s wine merchant meant he had to learn which ships traversed the Atlantic the quickest, which captains could be trusted to deliver a shipment intact, which season roiled the ocean and thus the wine. He introduced himself to the bosses on the wharves, to major domos in the best restaurants and clubs, and to riverboat entrepreneurs who delivered to the plantations along the Mississippi.

Phanor’s palate was innocent, and at first he hardly discerned the difference between a sweet white wine and a dry one. When he met with his customers at the various restaurants and clubs, the buyers inevitably wanted to discuss the bouquet, the body, the length of the wine. Phanor felt they were speaking another language, and he determined to cure his ignorance.

At the famous restaurant Les Trois Frères on the Rue Dauphine, Phanor cultivated the friendship of Jean Paul Rouquier, the chief wine steward. Jean Paul loved wine, and he loved to talk about it.

“This now, Phanor, observe. You see the wine’s robe is golden.”

“Its robe?”

“Oui. Its robe is rather a golden hue. Before we even inhale its bouquet, we expect an older, fuller flavor. The deeper the color of the vin blanc, the more it has aged. Now, my friend, gently move your glass, like so.”

Phanor swirled the wine in the fine crystal glass as Jean Paul demonstrated. Then he sipped.

“Non, non. Not yet. You must not hurry it. This is not a young wine to be guzzled with one’s sausage and rice. Now. Breathe in the bouquet.” Jean Paul closed his eyes and inhaled. “Ah. Tell me, Phanor, what do you smell?”

“Flowers,” he said.

“Very good, Phanor,” Jean Paul said. “Now we will explore the arome de bouche. Take only a sip, that’s right. Now purse your lips together, like so. Breathe a little air over your tongue and roll the wine around in your mouth.”

Phanor closed his eyes and breathed in the taste. He smiled in pleasure.

Jean Paul said, “Soon, my friend, you will be a connoisseur of wine, and you will be after my job.”

Phanor raised his glass to Jean Paul. “You have nothing to fear from me. I am only a country Cajun, and I always will be. But I thank you for making me less the bumpkin than I was. A votre santé.”

Those first months in New Orleans, Phanor relished the city’s hustle and bustle, every corner offering new sights and sounds. Phanor was conscious of a new life with new possibilities. He would not have to be a poor man living on the edge of the swamps. He might be a man of New Orleans, a man of taste and fashion.

With his first earnings, more money than he or his papa had ever seen at one time, Phanor bought bolts of cotton to send to his sister. She would make clothes for herself and little Nicholas. For his father and brother-in-law, he bought tobacco and pipes of polished brier.

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