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#this is exactly why I am classified into the “looks like a cinnamon roll will kill you” category LMAO
dipplinduo · 2 months
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war
just learned about evil boops and it's all I'm giving out now if u finna catch deez hands. try me bro. do u even lift
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So I just wanted to let you know your stuff inspired me in an interesting way. I'm not Jewish, so before your writing I had never heard of babka before. But I am a collector of recipes that involve chocolate and can still be classified as a breakfast item, because some days you just need chocolate for breakfast. So I've been thinking about it for weeks and I finally made chocolate babka this weekend and it is a PROCESS. But was totally worth it. How about some Midge/Lenny babka appreciation?
(This made me smile so much!!! I love to make babka, but it really is a whole damn thing, isn't it? A minimum 9 hours with the recipe I use, but it is so so so good. <3)
She's coming home from tour in a day, and so he decides what the fuck, why not surprise her with something nice?
She wrong about chocolate babka being better than cinnamon, but he'll concede just this ones, and copies her recipe from her little recipe book while he's over visiting with Abe.
And then.
And then he realizes that all told, the damn recipe takes ten fucking hours.
"Who the fuck has ten fucking hours to do this?" he complains, baffled.
Well.
He does, because he's met all of his deadlines and he still can't work because he's still working on his fucking appeal.
So he gets to down to business.
Ten hours of kneeding dough, letting it rise, letting it rise more, and a little more. Rolling it out, melting down the chocolate and spreading it onto the rolled out dough. Rolling the dough up on itself, freezing it for a few minutes, twisting it into a bread pan, letting it rise AGAIN and then throwing it into the oven. Making the glaze to put on when it's piping hot.
And it is.
It is the most mis-fucking-shapen babka anyone has ever laid eyes on.
But it didn't burn, and it looks like it baked all the way through, and that is the most important thing. He brushes the glaze on, and admires his work for a long moment, pondering having a slice, but holding back.
It's for Midge after all.
He carefully transports it to her place the next night, in a container you can't see through, and hold it firmly, waiting for her to get him, watching TV with Abe and Ethan and Esther.
They're all so engrossed in the Twilight Zone episode they're watching that they don't notice the door open and close, or Midge sit down next to Lenny.
"What are we watching?"
There are yelps of excitement from the kids, and Abe gets up to welcome his daughter home. Lenny just sits back and watches, grinning as he watches the kids chat her ears off about what she's missed, and watching Midge check each of them over, jokingly making sure they have all their limbs.
Eventually, she turns to him, beaming. She looks tired, but so happy to be home. She leans in and kisses him lightly.
"What," she says, poking at his little container. "Is this?"
"I got bored. I made you something," he tells her, handing it over.
Midge beams again, and peeks in, eyes widening, closing the container and looking at him. "You made this?"
"Yes, I did."
"The whole thing?"
"Yes."
"For me?"
"For you."
"It's the ugliest babka I've never seen," she says, suddenly getting emotional. "I love it."
"Hopefully it tastes better than it looks," Lenny chuckles.
"It smells exactly right," she tells him, leaning in and kissing him again. "Thank you."
He grins. "Welcome home."
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omgitsemilyward · 3 years
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hey, yours is one of the best/most reasonable reactions I've seen to the interview. the harsh judgement on his new relationship/ pregnancy was very upsetting for me to read, as if they were a betrayal to what people knew him as? I wish more people grasped we don't know these people. we don't know why they make the decisions they do. the whole thing had me thinking on the 'parasocial' relationships people form with celebs really.
anyway, I'm just so glad he got help when he needed it most, and that it seems like he has very good friends who care about him. I hope he continues to be well. your post on it gave me a good opportunity to sort my feelings over it :)
Hi there - thanks for this message. I’ve already gotten some interesting messages about this and I like this one best and so I’m going to use this as an opportunity to share my (relatively) meaningless thoughts on all this, and this is probably going to be the only post I make about this so… here we go
I’ve purposefully not been making posts about this stuff for a number of reasons, but primarily because I think a lot of people have presumed to know exactly what happened between him, his wife, and Olivia based on a feeble timeline that people have tried to piece together based on random entertainment press reports and stuff. I think there is an incredible amount of information we simply don’t know because we do not know any of them personally, and so I’ve never felt very comfortable saying anything about it. I’m definitely not saying anyone is in the right or in the wrong here either bc, once again, how can we say when we don’t know almost anything?
plus - who am I to even have an opinion on these people I don’t know? I should probably just leave this post right here, because that’s really my entire thesis with this.
(but I, like the person who sent me this nice message, kinda want to use this as an opportunity to share my thoughts and feelings)
I think a lot of us (myself definitely included - anyone who has followed me for a long time knows this) put him and Anna on a pedestal based on all we knew about them, which was very, very little. So as soon as there was the smallest amount of information that things weren’t as perfect as they seemed, people took it almost personally - that they didn’t match the image they had latched onto -, and then made a lot of assumptions and a lot of judgment about what happened; again, based on the tiniest amount of information. Plus, I do think the internet amplifies these things in a weird way that does away with a lot of nuance and goes to straight to classifying things as a binary: “this person is a perfect cinnamon roll who can do nothing wrong” or “this person is absolute garbage trash” - the thing we all forget though, is that human beings do not exist on some moral binary for the most part.
(Also here I am, talking about this on the internet…. anyways)
I spent a lot of my years on this specific website being uncomfortably attached to John and Anna and their relationship, and it’s not something I’m particularly proud of. I don’t say I completely regret being such a huge fan of his, hers, theirs (for one thing, it kinda got me my job, but that’s another story for another time), but looking back on it I wish I had not been so invested in the relationship of people I didn’t know. It was really weird and without my own personal life experience, I might have also immediately jumped to a lot of judgment about why or how their relationship ended. But between now and then I’ve grown a lot as a person and I know that people, especially public figures, often live much more complicated lives than what they present to the world. And people get divorced allllll the fucking time for allllll sorts of reasons.
Maybe it’s the child of many divorces in me, but I’ve been honestly pretty shocked by how little grace people are giving them. Maybe it’s also the fact that I’ve been such a big fan of each of these people (including Olivia) for so much of my life that I’m quick to be defensive (? Idk if that’s the right word) of all of them before anything.
At the end of the day, I guess I’m just disappointed that there is even “discourse” about this to begin with - not surprised by any means, but just disappointed. And disappointed about how quick people have been to judge, or how people are try to equate this to things that are not at all equivalent.
the most important thing to me out of all of this is that John is on a path to recovery. I’ve dealt with some addiction stuff with some of my family that I’m not going to get into on here but it is hard and at times a little terrifying and I’m just so relieved that he seems to have a really good support system. That’s the thing I’ve been most concerned about since the news broke that he relapsed and was going into rehab - I’m grateful that he was able to get help because not everyone does or not everyone will before it becomes too late to do so.
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unholyhelbiglinked · 4 years
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Project Skeptic | Chapter 1
Read from the Start | Read on AO3
Summer 2019
The first thing that she realized was the taste of blood. It was subtle at first, a light dance across her tongue with a metallic edge. But then it was dry, dry enough to make her want to dart her tongue out against her lips and dull the throbbing edge. She had a headache, that was observation number two. Number three came in the form of the thick restraint against her wrists, burning and unrelenting.
You don’t ever trust a stranger, Emily. Her mothers’ words would echo through her mind like a steel drum against an empty corridor. When she was younger it never made any sense. The mailman was just as strange to her as someone in a dark hoodie with unkempt hair. If they didn’t offer up a handshake was she supposed to remain on high alert? Katherine Junk would be spiteful right about now. Spiteful or worried.
Emily pulled her head back, drawing in a sharp breath as an undeniable ache pulsed against her spine. She was in a chair, one that creaked and groaned under her weight. Her consciousness was barely there but started to spark; there was a fire nearby, she could smell it and feel its heat on the side of her face. The room had a sweet and floral scent to it.
“Good morning, Sunshine.”
Loud. God that voice was loud and oh so familiar. Emily wasn’t fully there, her heartbeat deafening in her ears as she made a jumble of noise past her lips. Her whole body was stiff, and she blinked a few times to get used to the coloring of her surroundings, dark and rustic, and she could swear up and down that there was a Christmas tree situated in the corner. It had multi-colored lights and way too much tinsel. It had been meticulously applied branch by branch.
“I hit you pretty hard there, huh?” The voice was calling attention and Emily blinked three more times before focusing. The figure was, in fact, shaded in a deep orange that flickered against the floor sporadically. She was dressed casually, normally. Not like someone who would kidnap a person; a dark green sweater and jeans that contrasted from her deep ginger hair. Her eyes, even in the light from the fire, were sparkling like broken waves. “You’re okay though, you’re strong.”
Emily drew in an easier breath and clenched her jaw, which was sore too. Claire, Callie maybe even Chelsea Emily’s mind was searching for a name to the face. It was her next-door neighbor; she can remember the conversations they’ve had at the mailboxes and the golden lettering on their forest green door. She recalls that this woman has a wife, a music producer that’s too grumpy for her own good, but her name. God, what was her name?
“What’s going on?” Emily asked, swallowing the bloodied taste in her mouth. Her voice was dry enough to be unrecognizable. “Where am I?”
“That’s classified, I’m afraid. But we’ll get to that depending on how well you take this.”
“Take what? Being kidnapped?” She let out a small groan and rolled her neck again. “Who are you?”
She couldn’t remember much; the walk home from work, the elevator ride up with her neighbor nodding and asking her about her plans for the rest of summer. Emily explained she would work like she always did and struggled to find her keys in her bag. She remembers an earth-shattering pain in her temple and a warm sensation before everything went dark.
The woman let out a deep sigh as if Emily was inconveniencing her. Maybe she was at this point. She sat down on the edge of a leather reading chair that was positioned right across from the wooden seat that Emily was fastened to. It had a large studded back and reminded Emily of something that would accompany a glass of scotch and imported cigar wrapped in gold.
“I’m Chloe, I didn’t’ technically kidnap you, and this is a secret organization dedicated to keeping the holiday season sacred.” She had rushed out her words like a band-aid and Emily wasn’t sure if this woman was completely nuts or if she wasn’t exactly hearing her right over the pounding in her ears.
None of this registered, however, so Emily simply said, “But it’s only June.”
“Oh, I know,” Chloe slumped back in her seat completely, letting her hands hang over the sides of the chair. “We’re so behind schedule. Recruitment was supposed to be in May but being so close to you proved very difficult. There’s a lot we have to catch you up on, Emily.”
“Can you-?” Emily tugged at her restraints, trying not to flinch too hard at the stinging pain that moved through her skin as she shifted. The woman lifted her eyebrows and moved forward, almost as if she had forgotten entirely.
“Yeah, sorry about this. We’re not usually so violent but it’s not every day that you refuse orders from the big guy. You know, don’t you? You work for some big television company.”
Chloe talked too fast, Emily decided. She had an innocent edge about her, and at this point, she didn’t’ care if she had to keep the conversation up. She reached to the side table and pulled a golden crafted letter opener, gently trying to saw through the rope. It came undone easily and Emily let out a relieved breath she didn’t’ know she was harboring. She rubbed the raw skin, eyes searching the room.
It looked like the inside of a cabin that her family used to rent by the lake, from the stone figures all the way to the throw that was draped over the edge of the chair Chloe sat in. It was too eerie, too familiar. There wasn’t a door, that same flutter bubbling in Emily’s chest.
“You’re taking this remarkably well.”
“You hit me in the head. I’m afraid I don’t’ believe you.”
She was scared to move her fingers up to her temple. She was sure it was sticky. She could practically feel the blood that has soaked into the collar of her shirt. Instead, she resided into staring into blue eyes that looked silver.
“Do you believe in Santa, Emily?”
Did she? It was a loaded question. The fiction of it all was ripped away violently when she woke up to her mother’s hand wedged under her pillow when she lost her first tooth. She was a light sleeper. Emily remembered crying as she asked her mom about a bunny who hid eggs and a man who delivered toys in exchanged for burnt cookies and room temperature milk.
“You stopped believing when you were six years old. After that Christmas didn’t’ feel the same anymore, and your mom would let you pick out what you wanted at the store, didn’t’ she?” Chloe asked, “You knew what was under the tree every single year until the tree vanished completely and was replaced by a card with a fifty-dollar bill in it.”
Emily slumped back in her seat, because yes, that was exactly what happened. It didn’t’ feel so sad when her mother told her she was going on a cruise instead of sticking around and dealing with the stress of the holiday season. The way Chloe told the story deflated her. A story that she hadn’t talked about, not even to Aubrey.
“Say you are telling the truth,” Emily started “Say you’re apart of a secret organization that rotates around Christmas… what do I have to do with it?”
The younger woman wasn’t sure why she was entertaining the idea. It might be the pounding in the side of her head or the fact that her bubbly little neighbor had a complete backstory on how her Christmases had played out, but she simply dug her fingers into her sore shoulder and looked at Chloe was expectancy.
“The world is changing, Emily. It’s growing bigger, some would even argue better, by each day. For the past five years it’s been too much for one man with a couple of reindeer to handle, you know? The old guys retired.”
“Is he now?”
There was sarcasm leaking past her voice. It wasn’t intended, but it spilled out like a pool of steam over fresh hot chocolate. This room smelled too much like cinnamon, Emily decided.
“He is. And when he’s away he trusts in this organization, Project Skeptic, to deliver presents, grant wishes, and keep the Christmas spirit alive.” Emily swallowed roughly. Her mouth still tasted metallic and Chloe’s words hadn’t yet settled with her. “We’ve kept an eye on you, Emily. We know that all you want is to get that feeling back.”
December 2019
Emily pressed her stomach to the cold of the wooden floor, it’s edge soaking through her jumpsuit in a simple motion. It was the type of cold that she remembered as a child when her bed was given to her older cousin from Kansas and she drooled all over her pillow. She hadn’t even bothered to wash it before throwing it into the trash. Emily had slept on the hardwood flooring for two weeks.
Now she was struggling to hold her breath, letting it catch in her throat as she stared up at the windowpane above her. The sheer white curtains caught the light of a passing car, one that stalled- she could hear the crunch of tires against gravel and practically smell the gasoline that rested in the tank. She pressed her cheek close to the laminate and listened. It eventually pulled away, breath short as she was bathed in darkness once more.
Emily brought her frame back up to a standing position, careful not to let her form show in the large bay window; the house was normal, a large pre-lit Christmas tree that was filled with family ornaments made from Styrofoam cups, the angel on top that seemed to stare her down, and the plate of cookies that were stacked high enough to not only feed one reindeer but twelve.
She didn’t dwell too much on her surroundings. Sometimes it was different. The house wasn’t as decorated, or the tree was a live one. Very seldom was it just a barren wasteland with nothing more than cold granite countertops and a fire that was unlit.
Emily reached against her belt, pulling a simple laser pointer from its leather confines. She felt blindly for the little switch, the thing smooth under her fingertips. She pointed it at the ground, drawing a neat little line with its electric blue light. She could almost taste the charge in the air as she squatted down, reaching her grasp into the clutches of the glow.
This type of technology had scared Emily at first; a simple laser pointer that created a hole in the void to grasp Christmas presents that had already been pre-made. Now it was like second nature, a warmth engulfing her skin as she unshelled packages wrapped in paper with little candy canes and bushels of holly.
Emily learned not to question the size or weight, or the elegantly written Santa on the paper. Instead, she questioned other things: How many parents were in the house? Did the kids have a habit of staying awake? How full was the moon and how visible would it make her?
There was a subtle growl that cut through her little atmosphere like a butter knife through a grilled steak. It leaked grease and edged a deep feeling in the pit of Emily’s stomach. Were there any dogs?
She moved her hand over the line of electricity and plunged herself into innate darkness once more, slowly standing as her palms faced the floor. She could hear the rumble in the German shepherd’s chest, practically feel it close to the wooden floor. Its jowls dripped, hot saliva fell in thick strands.
Emily kept her eyes on the animal as it took a step forward. It was blacker than brown, and its eyes caught the green lights of the tree behind her. If it wasn't cheap plastic, the scent would be seeping into her clothing. The dog licked his gums, stepping closer.
Before she could protect her throat, the lights flashed on. They were almost worse than being mauled by a house pet. Her fingers moved against her stare to block out the stage glow, to blink away the afterlight that dominated her vision. There was an alarm too, a loud one that should signal fire but instead brought defeat.
“Emily!”
She let out a deep groan before anything else, slumping her shoulders and shaking her head. Even through the light, she could see everyone rushing around, could hear the door that stood next to the windowpane open and close- a simple little house rigged to produce nightmares.
“We have talked about this,” Chloe let the door fall behind her, “You need to check your compact before you get into the house that way you’ll know if-“
“There are any animals on the perimeter, I know.”
“If you know, then why didn’t’ you?”
Chloe didn’t’ wait for her to answer, instead, she clicked her tongue and had her follow from the faux room and into a standard hallway. Standard in the way that Emily could walk into any building on Wall Street and come in contact with the same generic paintings of beach scenes to make it feel a little less frigid in the winter. The red fire alarms stood out against tan colored walls. Chloe Beale looked ragged and tired.
“As much as I love you, Emily, you’re not going in on your own.” She finally said, breaking the silence. “Do you even have your compact?”
Did she? Emily felt against her waist and she did. It was easy to run her fingers along the extensive little device. It held everything she needed; the ages of the children in the house, what they wanted, if there was any unexpected company like a guard dog- even if it was simulated.
“Of course, I do, Chlo” Emily stopped in the middle of the empty corridor, pressing her fingers against the woman’s elbow. The Kevlar on her black jumpsuit was cool under her touch. “You know how I operate. We’ve been through this training a million times. I’m just… nervous, I guess.  A lot is riding on this.  Making and breaking Christmas.”
Chloe’s cerulean eyes softened at this. She looked tired. Her skin was pale under the neon lights and her jaw was clenched- nothing like it had been before, the stress of the holidays edging against her frame and making it stiff. “You’re telling me. This is my block- hell, it’s my city. But it’s no excuse to forget what you’ve learned.” She tapped the compact with her fingers. “What we’ve taught you. Right?”
Emily allowed herself to smile softly at Chloe. “Right,”
“Go get changed. We’re meeting 007 tonight for dinner.”
“Oh, Chloe I am not third-wheeling with you and your wife again.” Emily all but whined “She hogs all the noodles. Besides, don’t you two ever get tired of me tagging along?”
Chloe rolled her eyes in a dramatic fashion, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked intimidating in the small hallway. “First of all, Beca is the youngest of three, she’d bite your hand off for those noodles. And second of all, no we don’t get sick of you hanging around because you’re family now.”
“You don’t have to take pity on me,” Emily scoffed playfully “Just because my girlfriend is halfway across the country on business 90% of the time does not mean you have to suffer through me at the end of the couch during movie night.”
“We invited you, end of story. Go, get cleaned up.”
Emily saw no benefit in arguing with Chloe Beale. She was already high strung enough as it was, her back straight and eyes always trained on the little clipboard of hers. It sent a quick twinge of guilt through Emily, forgetting her compact like that didn’t help anyone- especially not the crew that set the whole elaborate thing up in the first place. Fake snow and a rabid hologram of German Shepards.
Everything that Emily would have chalked up to insanity seven months ago. Seven long months of working her day job, only to slip into a dingy warehouse on the east side of town. Scanning a badge, she hid among old candy wrappers and half-used Chapstick. No one would go searching in there.
The training had been embedded in her head, by Chloe herself, mostly. She sat in a classroom with unlimited servings of hot chocolate stirred with candy canes. Something she quickly grew tired of- cringing away from the sugary drink now. She had taken the defense courses and the Child Protocol lectures. But her anxiety continued to spike in rebellion, Christmas approaching fast.
Her phone buzzed in her back pocket, Chloe narrowing her eyes “You can carry your phone, but not your compact?”
Emily ignored the comment and stared at the screen. “Oh, Shit.”
“There a problem?” Chloe asked.
“Nothing major, my mother just informed me that we’re having Christmas at my house this year.”
Her voice was calm, but a flutter of anxiety licked at the back of her mind. That was one of the first things that they had taught her- no connections, plenty of excuses. Most of the people here didn’t’ have anyone depending on them for the holiday season. No obliged trips to church or brunches consisting of runny eggs.
For the past two years Aubrey had to work through Christmas and Emily would travel a few miles out of the city to be with her family for a few hours before she facetimed her girlfriend and they shared a long call littered with apologies, and Emily explaining that it was just a day.
“Oh,” Chloe sounded out evenly “You know what, no big deal. I’ve hidden this from Beca our whole marriage. Some would say it’s concerning how oblivious she is.”
Emily hummed in agreeance. Chloe was shockingly calm about the situation- about having to sneak out right after dinner on Christmas eve. About breaking into houses until the sun rose behind morning clouds.
Chloe must have sensed her worry, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “It’ll be fine Em. Now, go get changed.  She’s probably taken out half the restaurant at this point.”
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madsciencestudent · 4 years
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5 Fave Male Characters
Tagged By: @pandoramusicbox09
Tagging: @enelle2890, @paper-doodle, @sleepy-shark, and anyone else who wants to do this.
(Oh geez, here we go. XD)
1. Steven Universe
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Okay let’s get the show that ripped my heart out last out of the way first. Steven is the pure cinnamon roll on this list, and why he’s my favorite. Steven in the original series was the compassionate male hero I always wanted but never realized I wanted! I did have an issue with him always putting others before himself, but then the creators turned around and BAM! Addressed it in Future with a poor 16 year old who’s trauma finally caught up to him and manifested. Steven is a newer character, I’ll admit, but his stories and development into a hero and then a struggling young adult just... Sticks with me.
2. Orochimaru
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Smart, mysterious, dangerous, a ‘mad scientist’, even if it’s for selfish gains he takes in the lost, abused, and abandoned, cynical and wanting to watch the terrible world he lives in burn, an Asexual Icon even if the homophobic and transphobic fans like to say otherwise (all those jokes about him being ‘gay’ or ‘wanting to be a woman’ were NOT meant to be empowering but derogatory-I was there I KNOW THE DIFFERENCE), and with absolutely BEAUTIFUL hair and eyes, awkward weeby teenage me was obsessed with the best character in Naruto. And never really got over it. I stopped following one of the most popular manga and anime the first time the Sell Out of an Author tried to make it look like asshole Sasuke was better than him, and thankfully the character was never ruined for me like I know he was for others and the series as a whole was the longer it was milked for money. So Orochimaru remains the same dangerous and well written villain he was when he first pulled off that face in front of Anko all those years ago to me.
3. Alastor
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Another newer character, Alastor is one of those fun yet deadly villains that is also layered. He was a serial killer in life- which if properly written can be interesting in his development and spiral down the path for becoming a serial killer- and a powerful demon in death. There is a lot of potential there for him to develop into a fascinating character as well as a mysterious one. Everyone else in the series seems like they can be redeemed and actually change their after life, but Alastor is the one who seems like he’s going to drag all of them back to Hell and is going to be there true threat of the series. Yet, he also seems like the one who is necessary for the others to access the resources they need to turn their afterlives around. So there’s more conflict there. Are the resources they’re receiving from him actually what they need, or is he undermining them at every turn disguised as aiding them? He’s fun and impossible to get a decent read on!
4. GraveRobber
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The character that gets things rolling in Repo! The Genetic Opera, and mostly acts as the narrator in the final cut of the film, GraveRobber is exactly what his name says. One of the poor souls who fell into Geneco’s debt trip and now works as a drug dealer and grave robber (in order to actual get the drug from corpses’ brains) to get by in the world built on organ failures and capitalism! GraveRobber doesn’t have a lot to do in the final film, but his songs and guidance of the main character are an excellent touch. He also adds what I think is a main undercurrent of the film- none of the characters are truly ‘innocent’ or ‘pure’ like most media portrays; they all have some undesirable parts and ways to get by.
His actor is also one of the writers and performers of the indie stage shows that inspired the film (who did in fact write the film) and whom I’ve met in person, and he was very nice when we interacted.
5. Sweeney Todd
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Well, since he IS the title character of my all time favorite movie, I better mention him here. Also fun fact he’s the inspiration behind the one black streak I have in my hair which sort of became my own brand over the years SOOOO- Tragic and vengeful, Sweeney Todd is just... A complex character who’s been kicked around by the corrupt system and world enough that he gives into the darkness and wickedness of it all to become his own monster at the end. (He killed the woman he loved and who he thought he was avenging the whole time!)
Honorable Mention Since I’m Not Sure Where This One Fits Anymore:
Cell
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(I can hear @paper-doodle​ from here and @sleepy-shark​ calling me out for the Weeb I am. XD)
So... Cell is a favorite all time character of mine without a doubt, but given my thoughts and headcanons I had developed for him when I used to RP him on here and still use to this day.... I kinda don’t entirely classify him as a ‘male’ character anymore? I mean I kinda do but- IT’S COMPLICATED. It is pretty well established that in the manga Cell is referred to with ‘he/him’ and ‘it’ pronouns (even more so in the English dub of the anime I first grew up with because MANLY ANIME IS MANLY and woman can NEVER be that buff right that’d just be ugly (I’m being sarcastic if you can’t tell)) but it’s mostly other characters using those pronouns when talking about Cell. And because Cell technically is classified as ‘female’ by human definitions when it comes to reproduction (if an multicellular or macro organism is capable of asexual reproduction- like Cell is (see Cell Juniors)- then they’re usually classified as female), and at least in the manga Cell doesn’t seem to give a flying fuck about anything that isn’t fighting related, I kinda got to wondering about whether Cell does view themselves as male or female or both or neither. Eventually I developed the headcanon that Cell honestly doesn’t care one way or the other; people can call Cell whatever pronouns they want and Cell will just roll with it (so basically Agender with no pronoun preference), though Cell will pull out the ‘you know, by human definitions, you know I’m a female, right?’ line whenever a sexist is mouthing off near them because the dawning fear and back tracking fuels Cell. Cell has mostly gone with the male pronouns though since those are the ones used the most when applied to him, but like I said, Cell can change gears pretty quick based on the other person.
Sooooo, yeah. Canonly and a majority of fandomly speaking, I guess Cell is still classified as a male character, but since I developed a different view on him.... Eh? I guess I’m in the Cell is Nonbinary Camp so maybe Cell shouldn’t really be on this list. But again, Canon and a majority of Fandom and his own flexibility in my headcanons makes it complicated so Cell gets a special mention.
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shoujocentral · 5 years
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Symphogear S1- Now this is MY kind of anime!
Every once and awhile when I'd log onto Twitter, I'd see people saying "watch Symphogear" accompanied by images from the show. From looking at the pictures, I assumed it was just another magical girl show like Precure but with less magic and more... techno. Oh, and apparently they sing while they fight? Sounds kinda dumb...
Buuuut... I have heard that there's some yuri content? Maybe I'll give it a try. I mean, I'm always open to watching new stuff, even if it's just a silly little kid's show 😅
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😳
Well........ color me hooked.
I have to say, this show is not at all what I was expecting in the best possible way. It feels a lot more like a Shounen action show along the lines of Fullmetal Alchemist or Neon Genesis Evangelion than a Magical Girl show (if that's even what it's supposed to be). Today, I'm going to be giving my first impressions of Senki Zesshou Symphogear season 1, which will be spoiler free for anyone who hasn't seen it yet.
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Plot:
So what is Senki Zesshou Symphogear about?
In the not too distant future (next Sunday A.D.), Japan is under attack by monsters known as Noises, the likes of which cannot be killed by military weapons. The only thing that can kill them are girls clad in weaponized armor known as Gears, which is activated and powered by singing catchy techno-pop music.
One day, a girl named Hibiki Tachibana is caught in the middle of a battle, and one of the Gear users, Kanade Amou, sacrifices herself to save her. Two years later, Hibiki discovers that a piece of Kanade's Gear was embedded in her chest during the fight, giving her access to the Gear's powers. Hibiki is recruited by the Disaster Relief Squadron, the organization that created the Gears, to help defend Japan from the Noises.
However, Kanade's former girlfriend partner, Tsubasa Kazanari, sees Hibiki as nothing more than an obnoxious, naive girl trying to be Kanade's replacement. Will the two learn to work together, defeat the Noises, and possibly uncover a deeper plot to all the attacks?
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Symphogear's plot might not be the most original thing ever; evil monsters attack, teenage girls transform into superpowered warriors to fight them, evil mastermind tries to take over the world, etc. But what makes this story stand out is it's unique approach to the fights. Having the Gears be powered by music, resulting in every fight being accompanied by a song, is either a genius way to amplify the fights, or a genius way for the producers to sell a techno soundtrack.
I was worried that the constant use of insert songs would become repetitive and annoying, but on the contrary, they heightened my enjoyment! The fights in Symphogear are easily my favorite part of the show: fast-paced, badass powers, lots of screaming, and downright brutal at times! Hibiki has officially joined the ranks of my all-time favorite battle cries, right up there with Goku from DBZ and Souma from Kannazuki no Miko.
If there was one thing I had to nitpick, it would be that most of the fights take away the credibility of the Noises. They're supposed to be this terrifying threat to Japan that can't be harmed by the military, but as soon as the Gear wielders show up, they're reduced to nothing more than cannon fodder as Hibiki and her comrades seem to waltz through them without breaking a sweat.
Thankfully, the versus matches between Gear wielders are much more balanced. My favorite has to be Hibiki vs Chris (see above), but then again, any fight with Chris is an absolute win!
Characters:
Hibiki Tachibana
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Hibiki is your typical genki girl protagonist: optimistic, hyperactive, naive, and pure. What makes her a more compelling hero, however, is her slow growth into becoming a strong Gear wielder. Unlike most magical girl protagonists, who seem to master their powers after one line of "EH?! What just happened to me?!", Hibiki takes time to learn how to fight. She starts out with the mindset that she has to be Kanade's replacement and thus tries to fight just like her. However, she eventually comes to invent her own battle tactics that work much more in her favor. Mainly, punching the everloving shit out of everything in sight.
Hibiki is, in my opinion, a flat character done right. She doesn't go through any personal growth or development throughout the show (learning to fight doesn't count), but her belief that all humans can get along if they communicate and desire to protect people just because she wants to is the cause for most of the change in the people around her. The world is in a dark place, and Hibiki is the light. She doesn't need to change, because she's exactly what the world needs.
Tsubasa Kazanari
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From what I've learned, Tsubasa is a favorite amongst Symphogear fans. Me personally, though, I have a few issues with her character. Now, I have nothing against brooding, damaged characters. In fact, Tsubasa's recovery from Kanade's death and learning to cherish her own life was incredibly engaging... for the most part. Sorry, but I can only take so much edge. Her constant repitition of "I am a sword, I exist only to fight" grew old after the first 10 or so times.
Also, while I love her overall development, I feel that her acceptance of Hibiki was a little rushed. For the first four episodes, she hates Hibiki for carrying Kanade's Gear to the point where she tries to fight her to the death. Then, after another fight sends her into a coma, she has a (extremely gay) hallucination of Kanade telling her to get over herself. Next episode, she's treating Hibiki as if they've been friends the whole time. Did I miss something? Did Hibiki even apologize for saying she wanted to replace Kanade? Did Tsubasa apologize for trying to shishkabob her?!
Development aside, her fighting style is awesome and unique, and leads to the best choreography in the show. Hopefully as I watch more seasons, my opinion of her will improve.
Chris Yukine
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Best Girl. No questions. Anyone who disagrees is wrong. Deal with it.
Jokes aside, Chris is my favorite character of the show bar none. Maybe I just have a weakness for evil-turned-good characters, but I adored her "don't take no shit from nobody" attitude and her soft side emerging as the show progressed. And let me tell you, Tsubasa would have no right to brood if she knew what Chris went through as a child. I won't give anything away, but just a few brief images and harsh words were enough get the picture across and tug at my heartstrings.
She also had my favorite Gear and fighting style in the show. If there's one thing that always gets my blood pumping, it's gatling guns and an endless supply of missiles. Seriously, I could watch this girl fight for hours.
Kanade Amou
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A moment of silence, ladies and gentlemen.
......
Kanade would be my favorite character if we had gotten more of her. But alas, she has to die in the very first episode. DAMN YOU, PLOT!!!
Even though we get very little of Kanade, she makes it her mission to leave a lasting impression. Her sacrifice at the beginning sets the tone for the rest of the show, and her flashback is the best of the bunch. I got hard chills when she transformed for the first time. Let's just say she's psychotic in all the right ways.
Kanade died for our sins. Remember that... 🙏
Finé
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Our main villain of the show. That's it. There's really nothing much else to her. She's cruel, manipulative, and powerful beyond belief, as most big bosses of these kinds of shows are. She was honestly my least favorite part of the show.
Fine's motivation is incredibly confusing on first watch. I had to go back to pause and read the subtitles multiple times to understand her backstory, but maybe that's my fault for being a slow reader. On the other hand, the explanation as to who she is and why she's so powerful comes right out of nowhere and doesn't seem to connect to anything the story had been building up to that point. Also, by the time I understood her motivation and actually found it a little intriguing, she dropped the dreaded "I'm going to take over the world" line. Aaaaand.... all my interest just went out the window.
There is a twist involving her connection to a certain other character in the show that I genuinely didn't see coming, but in the end, it wasn't nearly enough to make up for her shortcomings.
Miku Kohinata
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God bless this little angel. Miku is a precious cinnamon roll who must be protected at all costs. Thankfully, Hibiki's got it covered 👍
Words cannot express how much I love this girl. She may be only a supporting role for the time being, but good lord, does she support! It always broke my heart whenever she tried to spend time with Hibiki or talk to her, but the Disaster Relief Squad kept pulling them apart. I know DRS is classified, but Miku deserves better than to have secrets kept from her! Life sucks when your girlfriend best friend is a superhero...
Well, that was a mouthful. There's a lot more characters in this show, but I don't really have much to say about them. However, while we're on the subject of Miku, let's move on to the reason I checked this show out in the first place, and the reason I'm sure most of you read my stuff.
Yuri:
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No sooner did I finish this show did I start looking up HibiMiku fanart 😍
I was expecting a fair dosage of yuribait going into Symphogear, but mother of all that is gay, did I get an overdose!
First and foremost, the main ship: HibiMiku. These two are dating. Nothing anyone says will change my mind. They compliment each other perfectly, with Hibiki's energy and Miku's sweetness... HHNNNGGH! IT'S TOO PRECIOUS! I sincerely hope these two get more time together in the next few seasons. Now if only they'd stop with the damn F word...... 😡
Next up, TsubaKana. This one seems more like it was one-sided feelings on Tsubasa's part, judging by how dedicated Kanade was to fighting the Noise. Regardless, you don't just lose all sense of your humanity and self-worth after your "partner" dies. And all that hardcore blushing in the flashbacks and naked cuddling dream sequences... nah, Tsubasa was hella hot for Kanade. Sadly, our lord and savior was taken from Ms. Brooding too soon.
Finally, there's Ryoko Sakurai, the DRS's head scientist. She was initially hinted to be gay, what with her being all too eager to have Hibiki undress and wanting to "pop her cherry" (yes, an adult said that to a 15 year-old). However, after a certain conversation occurred, it seemed more like she was straight or at least bisexual, if all that dirty talk wasn't just teasing.
I've heard future seasons introduce more potential couples, so I'm keeping my eyes open and my yuri goggles on tight 😋
Conclusion:
I enjoyed the first season of Senki Zesshou Symphogear through and through. As someone who enjoyed Akanesasu Shoujo and Magical Girl Spec-Ops Asuka, I have a soft spot for shows about badass girls kicking monster ass and unleashing their inner yuri. Overall though, I think Symphogear might be my favorite of the bunch so far. It has its fair share of flaws, sure, but I think its positives outweigh the negatives by a long shot. If I got this much enjoyment out of the first season, I cannot wait to see what the following seasons have to offer!
Symphogear delivers a fun, action-packed story with colorful characters, kickass fight scenes, head-banging music and plenty of yuri content. Anyone who loves Magical Girls or Shounen battle shows needs to check it out!
Rating: 8/10
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go binge Symphogear G. See you next time, my fellow yuri lovers!
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[52] Glitch in the System - The Beat Goes On (Pt. 2)
Sorry for the delay. E legitimately forgot what day it was because it’s snowmageddon and yesterday she got a very substantial and painful tattoo. Here’s Part 1 if you missed it!
We’ll also be streaming tonight around 7pm EST if you’re bored and want to hear us eat popcorn. We also take fic requests in real time so hit us up!
The dog park happens.
“Hey hey!” Lúcio announced as Sombra and Widowmaker emerged from their room, Sombra rubbing the sleep from her eyes in pyjamas, Widowmaker already dressed for the day and as alert as ever. “You lot like pancakes?”
“Yes,” Sombra replied immediately, leaving Widow’s side in a mad dash for the kitchen.
“You made us breakfast?” Widowmaker said, looking suspicious.
“Well yeah,” Lúcio laughed, peering out from the kitchen. He was wearing a dark green apron with his signature frog logo on it, and the scent of warm cinnamon wafted behind him. “That’s what a good host does.”
“Oh,” Widow replied, and Sombra could see her struggling to reconcile his unprompted kindness. The hesitation was obvious enough that Lúcio began to look a bit nervous until Widow unfurrowed her brows and looked up. “Pancakes are fine.” Then, to herself. “Why is it always pancakes?”
“Breakfast is ready, then!” he said, smile resuming its usual spot across his face. “Maple or hot fudge?”
“Hot fudge?” Sombra asked incredulously. “Excuse me?”
“Yeah, right?” he grinned, handing Sombra a plate. “I was a maple boy myself until Hana turned me onto the idea of hot fudge over banana pancakes. Wanna give it a shot?”
“Sí absolutamente,” Sombra said without missing a beat, taking the banana he offered her next.
“I am not that adventurous,” Widow said as Lúcio passed her a plate. “I will be fine with maple.”
“Nothing wrong with the old standby,” he nodded. “Y’all sit, I’ll bring out the accoutrements.” He added a French accent to the last word, vanishing before Widow could judge him appropriately for it.
Breakfast was an easy affair - pancakes, some fresh local fruits, and a mix of tea and coffee offerings. Conversation was even easier - a feat Sombra missed from her time in Dorado - and they idled for a bit after finishing until Danu made it readily apparent that she needed to be let out.
“Anyone want to go on a walk?” Lúcio asked. Danu was the first to reply, with an exuberant bark and a wagging tail, and Sombra nodded as well.
“I could use some sun,” she said, glancing outside. It looked beautiful, if warm, and she missed the reliable muggy heat of home.
“I will finalize the plans for our departure?” Widowmaker suggested, raising an eyebrow.
“Good plan, araña,” Sombra agreed. Lúcio snapped a leash onto Danu’s dollar and they were off.
It was late enough that the sun was shining, and early enough that the full weight of the oppressive midday Brazilian heat had yet to settle on the mountainside community. Danu walked nicely on her leash, sticking close to Lúcio’s side as they strolled down the smooth walkway that looped around the neighborhood. She didn’t tug at the leash once, and Sombra marveled yet again at how well Lúcio had managed to train her despite his impressively full calendar. The guy was booked solid for the next month - they’d just managed to catch him in time. She’d checked before asking to stay with him, of course.
“Where we headed?” Sombra asked, hands at her sides as they strolled along the walking path beside the road.
“Dog park down the way,” he said as a hovercar ambled by them. “Danu loves it so long as Bella isn’t there.”
“Bella?” Sombra asked, looking around. The neighborhood was a far cry from the favelas she knew Lúcio had grown up in, but a general feeling of camaraderie seemed to exist even within these spaced out structures. Folks outside tending their gardens or walking their dogs waved and called out to him by name, and he had a smile and personal greeting for each person they passed.
“One of the local dogs. Young boxer. Good pup, but a little rambunctious for Danu.” He chuckled and patted her head. “She might be big, but she’s a giant baby.”
“Poor girl.”
“Eh, she puts up with a lot,” he grinned. They turned a corner into what appeared to be a community park, and a few minutes later reached a large fenced in plot of land with several dogs playing as their accompanying humans chatted along the sides.
Lúcio unsnapped Danu’s leash and, after looking back for his nod of approval, she dashed off to join the others by the agility course and robotic fetch machines. One of the smaller dogs was yapping angrily at a robot as it held a ball out of reach, slowly winding back in preparation to pitch it into the distance. As the bot’s arm snapped and the ball flew, Danu trampled the small, eager pup and nabbed the ball before it even hit the ground.
“Oops,” Sombra said, grinning as she and Lúcio found a bench to sit on. “And you said she was a baby.”
“Even babies can be bullies,” he replied, amused. “She’s a gentle giant though.”
“Tell that to the terrier she just stepped on.”
Lúcio chuckled to himself as a large wolfhound raced by them, barking at another dog escaping with its toy. “That’s Breno,” he said as the hound passed. “He’s got a good spirit, even though he usually ends up being the punching bag of the park. Something about his size just makes him a target for attention it seems.”
“And Danielle thought Danu was a horse,” Sombra said, watching Breno lope hopefully over to the dachshund worrying his stuffed banana.
“His human’s over there,” Lúcio said, pointing as a diminutive woman sitting at a table eating a sandwich. “The irony thickens.”
“This is neat. I’ve never been to a dog park,” Sombra mused, leaning forward on her hands. “Weird, considering how much traveling I’ve done.”
“You don’t have a dog, do you?”
“Nope, just a very personable cat.”
“No occasion to visit the local dog parks then, I’d wager.” The conversation stalled slightly, and they turned their attention to the variety of happy canines and their companions. “Where have you traveled, anyway?” Lúcio asked casually after a few moments, following her eyes as she watched the dogs run.
“Just, you know,” she shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable and acutely aware that her open-ended comment had left her open to questions. “Around.” She’d let their easy camaraderie put her off guard, and she wasn’t ready with a compelling lie. A part of her, she noticed with a slow rising horror, didn’t even feel like trying.
“For any reason?” he pressed, and she noticed he was pointedly not making eye contact.
“Fun, I guess,” she replied slowly, racking her brain to come up with something believable. Traveling artist? Too flowery. Mobile consultant? Too dry. International IT? Ew.
“Fun?” Lúcio looked over at her with a curious expression on his face as she spoke, and she felt warning bells go off in her head. Familiar, gut-wrenching warning bells.
“And work,” she continued awkwardly, settling on a nondescript mixture of her vague train of thought. “I benefit from continuous business trips.”
Lúcio raised an eyebrow at her, draping an arm over the back of the bench. She saw him cast a glance around before he leaned slightly closer with a slow-dawning smirk on his face.
“Business trips, huh?” he said conspiratorially. “Is that just what you named them or are they called that in your dossiers from Talon, too?”
She sat up straight, an icy fear crawling up her spine like a spider. “What do you mean?” she asked, feeling any effort at denying the claim slipping through her teeth.
“Oh come on, Sombra,” he rolled his eyes. “I’ve known for a while.”
“How?” she asked in such a manner that Lúcio’s smile faltered ever so slightly.
“You weren’t exactly discreet,” he said, shrugging off his concern. “Hyper-cybridized former Los Muertos hacker involved in the LumériCo break-in? An uncanny knowledge of technology and networking? Mysteriously always surrounded by bright purple hard light screens with no CPU in sight?”
“Oops,” Sombra replied, remembering their several video chats wherein she took almost no precautions against what Lúcio had seen, only what he might find should he attempt to tap her connection. Programming error, she sighed to herself.
“I mean, I’ve read the Overwatch briefs.” He shrugged, seeming far too lackadaisical for a guy who just casually accused her of being involved in international terrorism.
“How -” she asked, her curiosity momentarily surpassing her worry. “How did you get classified briefings?”
“Hana,” he replied, offering her a rueful half smile. “She likes to make fun of how much they resemble StarCraft strategies. They might be full of propaganda and hyperbole, but some details stick out.”
“Like the brainwashed blue assassin?”
“Yeah, like that.”
Sombra’s brain raced, not an uncommon occurrence in itself, but this time it was tinged with an unfamiliar panic. Lúcio was a friend - a valued friend as it turned out, and no one in their right mind would keep her around once they knew who she really was.
Would she have to kill him? Somehow, the idea of sending Widowmaker after Lúcio made her more sick than her decision to remove Miguel as a security threat, even though - all things considered - Lúcio was a far greater concern than the low-status errand boy she once knew as a child.
In all honesty, she didn’t think she could do it, no matter what the consequences. Not now. She had a friend, and the importance of that had settled into her bones.
“I don’t have a great answer to this,” she said morosely, her weak response more palatable than the growing silence between them. Danu barked in the distance, the dog oblivious to what was happening a few feet away. “I did what I had to.”
“You had to work for Talon?” he asked, hands in his pockets as he looked off where Danu was jumping around happily. His tone was mildly accusatory, and while she bristled against it, she also had trouble finding fault in his distaste. She wasn’t a big fan of it herself.
“I didn’t have to,” she shrugged, upset at the turn the conversation had made. “And I only kind of work for them. It’s more an arrangement of convenience.”
“But Danielle…” he said. “She works for them.”
Sombra’s expression turned bitter. “She was created by them; she had no choice.”
“She’s still a murderer.”
“So am I.”
“But she likes to kill.”
“Well I love her anyway.”
Lúcio stopped and looked at her finally, smiling softly. “You what?”
“Shut up.”
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”
Sombra looked over at Lúcio to see his typical impish grin in place replacing the uncertainty that had lived there moments before. Offering a smaller one in return, she smacked him on the shoulder. “Jerk.”
“You know I only drop the truth.”
They laughed, but Sombra could feel the looming elephant in the room threaten to smother them again. She decided to beat it to the punch. “Listen, I know I’ve done some questionable - ok, shitty things, and that maybe my methods aren’t always the most...ethical. I enjoy manipulating those in power, because I can, and because I’m tired of watching the world be run by a handful of corrupt individuals with egoes to feed. But I swear on my mother’s grave,” she insisted, holding up a hand, “I am doing it for a greater good. I just…” she sighed. “Might not know exactly what that is yet. Not completely.”
Lúcio put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly. “We never do, do we? I didn’t know stealing my sound barrier would work; I just knew something had to be done, because things were bad and that was the only truth I knew for certain. Chances were just as good the Vishkar would have leveled the favela and everyone in it as punishment for my actions. There’s precedent for that, after all.”
“You’d certainly have made a convenient scapegoat,” Sombra agreed.
“Sure would have. As luck had it, the people had my back and were willing to put their bodies on the line for their freedom. Without that?” he shrugged. “I would have just been another corpse thrown against the cold metal shell of the Vishkar machine.”
“Survival’s a hell of a motivator, isn’t she?”
“Sure is.” He scratched the back of his head. “Listen, we all make choices for a reason, and I might not agree with all of yours, but I am the last person going to tell you that you shouldn’t have made them. Besides,” he chuckled. “I like having a friend to talk about this stuff with.”
“Yeah,” Sombra said, feeling uncharacteristically chagrined. “It’s been a while since I had a friend.”
“Me too, man,” Lúcio nodded in agreement.
Sombra scoffed. “You’re a fuckin’ liar. You’re man of the hour here - everyone knows you and loves you.” A part of her couldn’t help but feel hurt whenever she thought of how easily her role in LumériCo’s downfall was dismissed as an act of terrorism by those outside her country. At least Brazil loved Lúcio for what he did.
To her surprise, Lúcio’s response was laughter. “Yeah, I get how you might think that. Everyone does.” He whistled for Danu and the tall animal stopped worrying the stick she had pinned to the ground, ears perked up as he called her over. “I don’t want to sound like some ungrateful guy with too much fame, but sometimes it can get a bit lonely in the spotlight.” He shrugged, snapping Danu’s leash back onto her red collar as she loped to his side. “Folks forget where the music came from. I still got scars from where I dragged myself up out of the dirt, and I could have been killed stealing that Vishkar tech.” He looked at Sombra, his expression intent, and a little bit sad. “Sometimes you gotta break some rules to do what’s right, but the folks buying and promoting my music don’t always want to hear that, you dig?”
Sombra looked away and smiled. “Yeah,” she said. “I dig.” She let her mind wander back to her time in Dorado, after she’d left Los Muertos and vanished into anonymity. “Some fucking old American soldier comes in and says Los Muertos is a criminal gang to be purged, and then Overwatch labels me a terrorist for trying to take down a greedy corporate monster bleeding my people dry. But who stopped them in the end?” Her subsequent laugh grew bitter. “Those same criminals and terrorists.”
Lúcio laughed softly. “The Vishkar gave me a similar label.”
“Guess the only difference between us were sweet beats,” Sombra replied, smiling.
“Well I mean you also do work for a terrorist organization.” Sombra glared at him, but it didn’t hold up against his wide smile. “What?”
“Okay, that’s fair.”
“Hey,” Lúcio said, sobering a bit. “Listen, I understand why you do what you do, and why you’ve done what you’ve done. I might not entirely get all your methods,” he smirked, “but I certainly understand your motivations.”
“Thank you,” she replied, swallowing. She felt an uneasy relief wash over her. “I suppose it goes without saying that if you tell anyone I’ll have to kill you?” She meant it as a joke, but considering recent events, it was difficult to commit entirely to the bit.
Luckily, Lúcio took it in stride. “Are you kidding me?” He shook his head. “You know way too many of my personal secrets at this point. I ain’t telling no one who you are.”
Standing up from the bench, he offered Sombra his hand. “I got your back, ok? You’re just going to have to trust me on that.”
Sombra looked up at the face smiling knowingly down at her. It was unlike her to take people at their word; against her very nature to engage in the roulette game of trust. She’d survived by accepting no compromise on the matter, protecting her anonymity with a ruthless cunning that left no room for exploitation.
Except that she’d let Widowmaker in - a genetically engineered assassin with limited emotional savvy who all things considered should have turned her in a dozen times. She’d let Gabriel in, too, if to a lesser extent, and the man could have ruined her life with the stroke of a pen if so inclined.
So what was one more open door if the person on the other side was willing to keep it safe?
Taking his hand, she let him pull her up into a hug. It felt nice, being close to someone that wasn’t Widow.
“All right,” she said, stepping back. Danu barked at them, and she interpreted it as approval, and the words came out easier than she ever would have thought. “I trust you.”
*Read from the beginning or check out our intro post! All stories tagged under #glitchfic. Table of contents located here.
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wineanddinosaur · 4 years
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Get a Sneak Peek Inside a Legendary Amaro Distillery
“This is the magic behind Amaro Montenegro — starting from something disgusting and getting something beautiful,” Matteo Bonoli says, gazing at a beaker of dark, viscous liquid in his hand. The aroma is complex, syrupy, and redolent of molasses. But this is a trick of the senses: Even the tiniest of sips floods the mouth with an unrelenting, nose-wrinkling bitterness that lingers and lingers. This is wormwood, and to the untrained palate, it is truly disgusting.
Labeled fittingly as the “Bitter & Herbaceous” essence, this is one of the six mother extracts that are blended together to make Amaro Montenegro, an Italian bitter liqueur. I am with Bonoli, the master herbalist for the brand, at the Gruppo Montenegro facility outside Teramo, Italy, where these essences are produced. Here, 35 botanicals are boiled, macerated, and distilled into base notes with distinct flavor profiles — Bitter & Herbaceous, Fresh & Balsamic, Sweet & Roasted, Warm & Tropical, Spicy & Floral, and Fruity & Vegetal.
Like many Italian amari, Amaro Montenegro has used the same recipe since it was first developed in 1885. And like many Italian amari as well as other legacy liqueurs from around the world, this recipe is a closely guarded secret — so closely guarded that I am only the third journalist allowed a pungent peek behind the curtain at the Teramo production plant.
The Guards of Montenegro
As master herbalist, Bonoli, who has been with the company for nearly 10 years, is the steward of the recipes for Amaro Montenegro and the company’s other spirits, including Select Aperitivo and Coca Buton, a Slimer-green liqueur made from coca leaves. Dressed in moto jeans and a leather jacket, curly hair pulled back in a ponytail, Bonoli could conceivably be played by Antonio Banderas were there a market for films based on the lives of food scientist PhDs. Today, he is my tour guide — primarily because he has to be. This building is normally off limits, and the list of employees authorized to access the plant (and who are fluent in English) is short.
At the Amaro Montenegro facility, 35 botanicals are boiled, macerated, and distilled into base notes and essences.
The facility is a nondescript building that looks like it’s been plucked from an office park in Cupertino, Calif., and dropped into the rolling hills of Abruzzi. As we open the door, we’re immediately hit by an herbaceous, spicy aroma. Marcello Chiarini, the plant coordinator, greets us and escorts us into the locker room, where we remove our jewelry, don disposable lab coats and hairnets, and trade our sneakers for sensible factory shoes with strong Weekend Dad vibes.
Exactly six men work at Amaro Montenegro’s Teramo location, and the rookie among them has been there for 18 years. Doors with keypads are everywhere, and Chiarini explains that the mens’ jobs are highly compartmentalized; he is the only person allowed access to all areas. He pulls out his phone, showing live security camera footage from a locked room. It is empty except for three large sacks — coca leaves. He’s like a proud parent sharing images from his baby monitor, except instead of an infant it’s a Schedule II narcotic.
Cloak-and-Dagger Distillation
As we cross the factory floor, the smells intensify, layering and wafting seductively from around corners. Bonoli shepherds us into a refrigerated storage room, where deep shelves stretch to the ceiling. On the shelves are hundreds of identical white sacks, piled in four-foot-high stacks. Each stack has a cryptic piece of paper taped to it: “ERBA AROMATICA” followed by a five-digit code. All other identifying information has been removed.
Bonoli explains that these herbs, the raw materials of Amaro Montenegro, are subject to agricultural cycles and supply chain whims. When the 2004 tsunami hit Sri Lanka, Gruppo Montenegro was unable to source the cinnamon that the recipe requires. As a precaution, they now stock a two-and-a-half-year supply of every ingredient.
As we step out of the cold storage room, I catch a whiff of warm spice. “Cloves?” I guess. Bonoli shrugs theatrically. We head toward the maceration tanks and stills, moving in and out of ribbons of scents. We walk by a jumpsuit-clad worker opening a sack and are thrown headfirst into an aromatic cloud of juniper bush. We pass an open doorway and are suddenly steeping in a pot of chamomile tea. (It’s a red herring: Bonoli is careful to note that the facility also processes botanicals for Gruppo Montenegro’s other spirits and line of teas.)
At the facility, botanicals are processed for Gruppo Montenegro’s spirits and line of teas.
Artemisia, a genus of herbaceous plants with many culinary and medicinal uses, is being prepared for boiling. Bonoli steers me toward four open sacks of various varieties — small absinthe, valais wormwood, Roman wormwood, and genepy. He scoops up a handful from one, encouraging me to do the same. I bring my nose to my palm. The smell is bitter, dusty, medicinal, and very green.
Approaching the tour’s conclusion, we round a corner and are greeted by the bracing aroma of Vicks Vaporub; the Fresh & Balsamic essence is coming off the still. Bonoli extracts us a sample. At 80 percent alcohol, it’s only suitable for lip wetting, but I detect flavors of bay leaf and nutmeg, like Thanksgiving on a crisp morning. He cuts it with water, and it turns cloudy like pastis, indicating that it’s rich in essential oils.
The Teramo plant is responsible for producing all the essences that comprise Amaro Montenegro except for one, il premio. Bonoli speaks of it in hushed, reverent tones. Each bottle contains only one drop of the premio, which is produced at the company headquarters in Bologna, but without it, it wouldn’t be Montenegro. Its five ingredients are, naturally, top secret, but as I smell a dab applied to my wrist with an eye-dropper, I suspect they simply melt down Creamsicles.
Why All the Secrecy?
Of course, Amaro Montenegro isn’t the only amaro or bitter liqueur to keep its recipe behind closed doors. Amaro Ramazzotti has been made with the same “secret” blend of 33 herbs and roots since its creation in Milan in 1815. Fernet-Branca, produced in Milan since 1845, shares only a handful of its 27 components with the public, and those five ingredients are prepared by the company’s CEO in a locked room. Campari’s recipe, rumored to contain up to 80 ingredients, is such a closely guarded secret that only three individuals know it, and their identities are protected, too.
Even Germany’s hard-partying Jägermeister is tight-lipped about the 56 botanicals, fruits, and herbs in its formula.
Amaro Montenegro classifies its herbs to create a selection of “essences.”
Asked about the reasons behind Amaro Montenegro’s extreme stealth — which seems especially unnecessary in this facility, which is closed to the public and where the six employees are all lifers — Bonoli sighs. “I don’t know,” he says. He tells a story of the night before in Rome, where he went for a drink at The Court, a cocktail bar across from the Colosseum:
“When the bartender found out where I worked, he told me that he didn’t believe we actually started from botanicals. He accused us of using powders and flavorings,” Bonoli says. “This is what we’re up against, but it is a problem of our own making. We are so secretive about how Amaro Montenegro is made that people start believing we have something to hide.”
“In Italy,” he continues, “we have a saying—‘San Tommaso che non ci crede se non ci mette il naso.’ It means, ‘Saint Thomas doesn’t believe something unless he can put his nose right into it.’”
The expression refers to Saint Thomas, one of the Twelve Apostles of Jesus, who is commonly known as “Doubting Thomas” for not believing in the resurrection until he saw Jesus’s wounds. Had that Roman bartender been able to visit Montenegro’s processing plant, to wander the thickly scented rooms and put his nose right into the sacks of aromatic herbs, he’d likely be a believer.
Still, it’s Amaro Montenegro; with it and any other liquid legend, it’s almost as if the secret ingredient is secrecy itself.
The article Get a Sneak Peek Inside a Legendary Amaro Distillery appeared first on VinePair.
source https://vinepair.com/articles/amaro-montenegro-distillery-tour/
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johnboothus · 4 years
Text
Get a Sneak Peek Inside a Legendary Amaro Distillery
“This is the magic behind Amaro Montenegro — starting from something disgusting and getting something beautiful,” Matteo Bonoli says, gazing at a beaker of dark, viscous liquid in his hand. The aroma is complex, syrupy, and redolent of molasses. But this is a trick of the senses: Even the tiniest of sips floods the mouth with an unrelenting, nose-wrinkling bitterness that lingers and lingers. This is wormwood, and to the untrained palate, it is truly disgusting.
Labeled fittingly as the “Bitter & Herbaceous” essence, this is one of the six mother extracts that are blended together to make Amaro Montenegro, an Italian bitter liqueur. I am with Bonoli, the master herbalist for the brand, at the Gruppo Montenegro facility outside Teramo, Italy, where these essences are produced. Here, 35 botanicals are boiled, macerated, and distilled into base notes with distinct flavor profiles — Bitter & Herbaceous, Fresh & Balsamic, Sweet & Roasted, Warm & Tropical, Spicy & Floral, and Fruity & Vegetal.
Like many Italian amari, Amaro Montenegro has used the same recipe since it was first developed in 1885. And like many Italian amari as well as other legacy liqueurs from around the world, this recipe is a closely guarded secret — so closely guarded that I am only the third journalist allowed a pungent peek behind the curtain at the Teramo production plant.
The Guards of Montenegro
As master herbalist, Bonoli, who has been with the company for nearly 10 years, is the steward of the recipes for Amaro Montenegro and the company’s other spirits, including Select Aperitivo and Coca Buton, a Slimer-green liqueur made from coca leaves. Dressed in moto jeans and a leather jacket, curly hair pulled back in a ponytail, Bonoli could conceivably be played by Antonio Banderas were there a market for films based on the lives of food scientist PhDs. Today, he is my tour guide — primarily because he has to be. This building is normally off limits, and the list of employees authorized to access the plant (and who are fluent in English) is short.
At the Amaro Montenegro facility, 35 botanicals are boiled, macerated, and distilled into base notes and essences.
The facility is a nondescript building that looks like it’s been plucked from an office park in Cupertino, Calif., and dropped into the rolling hills of Abruzzi. As we open the door, we’re immediately hit by an herbaceous, spicy aroma. Marcello Chiarini, the plant coordinator, greets us and escorts us into the locker room, where we remove our jewelry, don disposable lab coats and hairnets, and trade our sneakers for sensible factory shoes with strong Weekend Dad vibes.
Exactly six men work at Amaro Montenegro’s Teramo location, and the rookie among them has been there for 18 years. Doors with keypads are everywhere, and Chiarini explains that the mens’ jobs are highly compartmentalized; he is the only person allowed access to all areas. He pulls out his phone, showing live security camera footage from a locked room. It is empty except for three large sacks — coca leaves. He’s like a proud parent sharing images from his baby monitor, except instead of an infant it’s a Schedule II narcotic.
Cloak-and-Dagger Distillation
As we cross the factory floor, the smells intensify, layering and wafting seductively from around corners. Bonoli shepherds us into a refrigerated storage room, where deep shelves stretch to the ceiling. On the shelves are hundreds of identical white sacks, piled in four-foot-high stacks. Each stack has a cryptic piece of paper taped to it: “ERBA AROMATICA” followed by a five-digit code. All other identifying information has been removed.
Bonoli explains that these herbs, the raw materials of Amaro Montenegro, are subject to agricultural cycles and supply chain whims. When the 2004 tsunami hit Sri Lanka, Gruppo Montenegro was unable to source the cinnamon that the recipe requires. As a precaution, they now stock a two-and-a-half-year supply of every ingredient.
As we step out of the cold storage room, I catch a whiff of warm spice. “Cloves?” I guess. Bonoli shrugs theatrically. We head toward the maceration tanks and stills, moving in and out of ribbons of scents. We walk by a jumpsuit-clad worker opening a sack and are thrown headfirst into an aromatic cloud of juniper bush. We pass an open doorway and are suddenly steeping in a pot of chamomile tea. (It’s a red herring: Bonoli is careful to note that the facility also processes botanicals for Gruppo Montenegro’s other spirits and line of teas.)
At the facility, botanicals are processed for Gruppo Montenegro’s spirits and line of teas.
Artemisia, a genus of herbaceous plants with many culinary and medicinal uses, is being prepared for boiling. Bonoli steers me toward four open sacks of various varieties — small absinthe, valais wormwood, Roman wormwood, and genepy. He scoops up a handful from one, encouraging me to do the same. I bring my nose to my palm. The smell is bitter, dusty, medicinal, and very green.
Approaching the tour’s conclusion, we round a corner and are greeted by the bracing aroma of Vicks Vaporub; the Fresh & Balsamic essence is coming off the still. Bonoli extracts us a sample. At 80 percent alcohol, it’s only suitable for lip wetting, but I detect flavors of bay leaf and nutmeg, like Thanksgiving on a crisp morning. He cuts it with water, and it turns cloudy like pastis, indicating that it’s rich in essential oils.
The Teramo plant is responsible for producing all the essences that comprise Amaro Montenegro except for one, il premio. Bonoli speaks of it in hushed, reverent tones. Each bottle contains only one drop of the premio, which is produced at the company headquarters in Bologna, but without it, it wouldn’t be Montenegro. Its five ingredients are, naturally, top secret, but as I smell a dab applied to my wrist with an eye-dropper, I suspect they simply melt down Creamsicles.
Why All the Secrecy?
Of course, Amaro Montenegro isn’t the only amaro or bitter liqueur to keep its recipe behind closed doors. Amaro Ramazzotti has been made with the same “secret” blend of 33 herbs and roots since its creation in Milan in 1815. Fernet-Branca, produced in Milan since 1845, shares only a handful of its 27 components with the public, and those five ingredients are prepared by the company’s CEO in a locked room. Campari’s recipe, rumored to contain up to 80 ingredients, is such a closely guarded secret that only three individuals know it, and their identities are protected, too.
Even Germany’s hard-partying Jägermeister is tight-lipped about the 56 botanicals, fruits, and herbs in its formula.
Amaro Montenegro classifies its herbs to create a selection of “essences.”
Asked about the reasons behind Amaro Montenegro’s extreme stealth — which seems especially unnecessary in this facility, which is closed to the public and where the six employees are all lifers — Bonoli sighs. “I don’t know,” he says. He tells a story of the night before in Rome, where he went for a drink at The Court, a cocktail bar across from the Colosseum:
“When the bartender found out where I worked, he told me that he didn’t believe we actually started from botanicals. He accused us of using powders and flavorings,” Bonoli says. “This is what we’re up against, but it is a problem of our own making. We are so secretive about how Amaro Montenegro is made that people start believing we have something to hide.”
“In Italy,” he continues, “we have a saying—‘San Tommaso che non ci crede se non ci mette il naso.’ It means, ‘Saint Thomas doesn’t believe something unless he can put his nose right into it.’”
The expression refers to Saint Thomas, one of the Twelve Apostles of Jesus, who is commonly known as “Doubting Thomas” for not believing in the resurrection until he saw Jesus’s wounds. Had that Roman bartender been able to visit Montenegro’s processing plant, to wander the thickly scented rooms and put his nose right into the sacks of aromatic herbs, he’d likely be a believer.
Still, it’s Amaro Montenegro; with it and any other liquid legend, it’s almost as if the secret ingredient is secrecy itself.
The article Get a Sneak Peek Inside a Legendary Amaro Distillery appeared first on VinePair.
Via https://vinepair.com/articles/amaro-montenegro-distillery-tour/
source https://vinology1.weebly.com/blog/get-a-sneak-peek-inside-a-legendary-amaro-distillery
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isaiahrippinus · 4 years
Text
Get a Sneak Peek Inside a Legendary Amaro Distillery
“This is the magic behind Amaro Montenegro — starting from something disgusting and getting something beautiful,” Matteo Bonoli says, gazing at a beaker of dark, viscous liquid in his hand. The aroma is complex, syrupy, and redolent of molasses. But this is a trick of the senses: Even the tiniest of sips floods the mouth with an unrelenting, nose-wrinkling bitterness that lingers and lingers. This is wormwood, and to the untrained palate, it is truly disgusting.
Labeled fittingly as the “Bitter & Herbaceous” essence, this is one of the six mother extracts that are blended together to make Amaro Montenegro, an Italian bitter liqueur. I am with Bonoli, the master herbalist for the brand, at the Gruppo Montenegro facility outside Teramo, Italy, where these essences are produced. Here, 35 botanicals are boiled, macerated, and distilled into base notes with distinct flavor profiles — Bitter & Herbaceous, Fresh & Balsamic, Sweet & Roasted, Warm & Tropical, Spicy & Floral, and Fruity & Vegetal.
Like many Italian amari, Amaro Montenegro has used the same recipe since it was first developed in 1885. And like many Italian amari as well as other legacy liqueurs from around the world, this recipe is a closely guarded secret — so closely guarded that I am only the third journalist allowed a pungent peek behind the curtain at the Teramo production plant.
The Guards of Montenegro
As master herbalist, Bonoli, who has been with the company for nearly 10 years, is the steward of the recipes for Amaro Montenegro and the company’s other spirits, including Select Aperitivo and Coca Buton, a Slimer-green liqueur made from coca leaves. Dressed in moto jeans and a leather jacket, curly hair pulled back in a ponytail, Bonoli could conceivably be played by Antonio Banderas were there a market for films based on the lives of food scientist PhDs. Today, he is my tour guide — primarily because he has to be. This building is normally off limits, and the list of employees authorized to access the plant (and who are fluent in English) is short.
At the Amaro Montenegro facility, 35 botanicals are boiled, macerated, and distilled into base notes and essences.
The facility is a nondescript building that looks like it’s been plucked from an office park in Cupertino, Calif., and dropped into the rolling hills of Abruzzi. As we open the door, we’re immediately hit by an herbaceous, spicy aroma. Marcello Chiarini, the plant coordinator, greets us and escorts us into the locker room, where we remove our jewelry, don disposable lab coats and hairnets, and trade our sneakers for sensible factory shoes with strong Weekend Dad vibes.
Exactly six men work at Amaro Montenegro’s Teramo location, and the rookie among them has been there for 18 years. Doors with keypads are everywhere, and Chiarini explains that the mens’ jobs are highly compartmentalized; he is the only person allowed access to all areas. He pulls out his phone, showing live security camera footage from a locked room. It is empty except for three large sacks — coca leaves. He’s like a proud parent sharing images from his baby monitor, except instead of an infant it’s a Schedule II narcotic.
Cloak-and-Dagger Distillation
As we cross the factory floor, the smells intensify, layering and wafting seductively from around corners. Bonoli shepherds us into a refrigerated storage room, where deep shelves stretch to the ceiling. On the shelves are hundreds of identical white sacks, piled in four-foot-high stacks. Each stack has a cryptic piece of paper taped to it: “ERBA AROMATICA” followed by a five-digit code. All other identifying information has been removed.
Bonoli explains that these herbs, the raw materials of Amaro Montenegro, are subject to agricultural cycles and supply chain whims. When the 2004 tsunami hit Sri Lanka, Gruppo Montenegro was unable to source the cinnamon that the recipe requires. As a precaution, they now stock a two-and-a-half-year supply of every ingredient.
As we step out of the cold storage room, I catch a whiff of warm spice. “Cloves?” I guess. Bonoli shrugs theatrically. We head toward the maceration tanks and stills, moving in and out of ribbons of scents. We walk by a jumpsuit-clad worker opening a sack and are thrown headfirst into an aromatic cloud of juniper bush. We pass an open doorway and are suddenly steeping in a pot of chamomile tea. (It’s a red herring: Bonoli is careful to note that the facility also processes botanicals for Gruppo Montenegro’s other spirits and line of teas.)
At the facility, botanicals are processed for Gruppo Montenegro’s spirits and line of teas.
Artemisia, a genus of herbaceous plants with many culinary and medicinal uses, is being prepared for boiling. Bonoli steers me toward four open sacks of various varieties — small absinthe, valais wormwood, Roman wormwood, and genepy. He scoops up a handful from one, encouraging me to do the same. I bring my nose to my palm. The smell is bitter, dusty, medicinal, and very green.
Approaching the tour’s conclusion, we round a corner and are greeted by the bracing aroma of Vicks Vaporub; the Fresh & Balsamic essence is coming off the still. Bonoli extracts us a sample. At 80 percent alcohol, it’s only suitable for lip wetting, but I detect flavors of bay leaf and nutmeg, like Thanksgiving on a crisp morning. He cuts it with water, and it turns cloudy like pastis, indicating that it’s rich in essential oils.
The Teramo plant is responsible for producing all the essences that comprise Amaro Montenegro except for one, il premio. Bonoli speaks of it in hushed, reverent tones. Each bottle contains only one drop of the premio, which is produced at the company headquarters in Bologna, but without it, it wouldn’t be Montenegro. Its five ingredients are, naturally, top secret, but as I smell a dab applied to my wrist with an eye-dropper, I suspect they simply melt down Creamsicles.
Why All the Secrecy?
Of course, Amaro Montenegro isn’t the only amaro or bitter liqueur to keep its recipe behind closed doors. Amaro Ramazzotti has been made with the same “secret” blend of 33 herbs and roots since its creation in Milan in 1815. Fernet-Branca, produced in Milan since 1845, shares only a handful of its 27 components with the public, and those five ingredients are prepared by the company’s CEO in a locked room. Campari’s recipe, rumored to contain up to 80 ingredients, is such a closely guarded secret that only three individuals know it, and their identities are protected, too.
Even Germany’s hard-partying Jägermeister is tight-lipped about the 56 botanicals, fruits, and herbs in its formula.
Amaro Montenegro classifies its herbs to create a selection of “essences.”
Asked about the reasons behind Amaro Montenegro’s extreme stealth — which seems especially unnecessary in this facility, which is closed to the public and where the six employees are all lifers — Bonoli sighs. “I don’t know,” he says. He tells a story of the night before in Rome, where he went for a drink at The Court, a cocktail bar across from the Colosseum:
“When the bartender found out where I worked, he told me that he didn’t believe we actually started from botanicals. He accused us of using powders and flavorings,” Bonoli says. “This is what we’re up against, but it is a problem of our own making. We are so secretive about how Amaro Montenegro is made that people start believing we have something to hide.”
“In Italy,” he continues, “we have a saying—‘San Tommaso che non ci crede se non ci mette il naso.’ It means, ‘Saint Thomas doesn’t believe something unless he can put his nose right into it.’”
The expression refers to Saint Thomas, one of the Twelve Apostles of Jesus, who is commonly known as “Doubting Thomas” for not believing in the resurrection until he saw Jesus’s wounds. Had that Roman bartender been able to visit Montenegro’s processing plant, to wander the thickly scented rooms and put his nose right into the sacks of aromatic herbs, he’d likely be a believer.
Still, it’s Amaro Montenegro; with it and any other liquid legend, it’s almost as if the secret ingredient is secrecy itself.
The article Get a Sneak Peek Inside a Legendary Amaro Distillery appeared first on VinePair.
source https://vinepair.com/articles/amaro-montenegro-distillery-tour/ source https://vinology1.tumblr.com/post/190159788099
0 notes