Dragonfly in Amber

Prince Tearlach’s All-Scottish Penne Carbonara

Prince Tearlach’s All-Scottish Penne Carbonara

He was a sturdy, good-looking lad, with thick, light-brown hair curling loose upon his shoulders, and a fair face, cheeks flushed red with cold and exertion.  His nose was running slightly, and he wiped it with the back of his wrapped hand, wincing slightly as he did so.Jamie, both eyebrows raised, bowed politely to the visitor.

“My house is at your service, Your Highness,” he said, with a glance that took in the general disorder of the visitor’s attire.  His stock was undone and hung loosely around his neck, half his buttons were done up awry, and the flies of his breeches flopped partially open.  I saw Jamie frown slightly at this, and he moved unobtrusively in front of the boy, to screen me from the indelicate sight.

“If I may present my wife, Your Highness?” he said. “Claire, my lady Broch Tuarach.  Claire, this is His Highness, Prince Charles, son of King James of Scotland.”

Diana Gabaldon, Dragonfly in Amber (Chapter 11 – Useful Occupations)

bonnie-prince

Our first meeting with BPC – @ the Castle Pub, Inverness

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Fiona’s Almond Sponge from DIA

Fiona’s Almond Sponge from DIA

A half-hour later, the tea table lay in shambles, the decanter stood empty, and the three of them sat in a shared stupor of content.  Brianna shifted once or twice, glanced at Roger, and finally asked if she might use his “rest room.”

“Oh, the W.C.?  Of course.”  He heaved himself to his feet, ponderous with Dundee cake and almond sponge.  If he didn’t get away from Fiona soon, he’d weigh three hundred pounds before he got back to Oxford.

“It’s on of the old-fashioned kind,” he explained, pointing down the hall in the direction of the bathroom.  “With a tank on the ceiling and a pull-chain.”

“I saw some of those in the British Museum,” Brianna said, nodding.  “Only they weren’t in with the exhibits, they were in the ladies’ room.”  She hesitated, then asked, “You haven’t got the same sort of toilet paper they have in the British Museum, do you?  Because if you do, I’ve got some Kleenex in my purse.”

Diana Gabaldon, Dragonfly in Amber (Chapter 2 – The Plot Thickens)

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Hot Chocolate with La Dame Blanche

Hot Chocolate with La Dame Blanche

“The White Lady,” he murmured.  “She is called a wisewoman, a healer.  And yet…she sees to the center of a man, and can turn his soul to ashes, if evil be found there.”  He bobbed his head, turned, and shuffled off hastily in the direction of the kitchen.  I saw his elbow bob, and realized that he was crossing himself as he went.

“Jesus H. Christ,” I said, turning back to Jamie.  “Did you ever hear of La Dame Blanche?”

“Um? Oh? Oh, aye, I’ve…heard the stories.” Jamie’s eyes were hidden by long auburn lashes as he buried his nose in his cup of chocolate, but the blush on his cheeks was too deep to be put down to the heat of the rising steam.

I leaned back in my chair, crossed my arms, and regarded him narrowly.

“Oh, you have?” I said. “Would it surprise you to hear that the men who attacked Mary and me last night referred to me as La Dame Blanche?”

“They did?” He looked up quickly at that, startled.

Diana Gabaldon, Dragonfly in Amber (Chapter 20 – La Dame Blanche)

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Gougères – Cheese Savouries from Dragonfly in Amber

Gougères – Cheese Savouries from Dragonfly in Amber

“Indeed, Monsieur le Comte?” Silas Hawkins raised thick, graying brows toward our end of the table.  “Have you found a new partner for investment, then?  I understood that your own resources were…depleted, shall we say?  Following the sad destruction of the Patagonia.”  He took a cheese savoury from the plate and popped it delicately into his mouth.

The Comte’s jaw muscles bulged, and a sudden chill descended on our end of the table.  From Mr. Hawkins’s sidelong glance at me, and the tiny smile that lurked about his buisily chewing mouth, it was clear that he knew all about my role in the destruction of the unfortunate Patagonia.

Diana Gabaldon, Dragonfly in Amber (Chapter 18 – Rape in Paris)

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Fonseca Terra Prima Reserve Port – Weekend Whisky Write-Up

Fonseca Terra Prima Reserve Port – Weekend Whisky Write-Up

“You can treat rum like that,” Jared observed, watching the ungainly progress of the enormous barrel through the obstructions of the warehouse, “but not port.  I always fetch that up myself, along with the bottled wines.  In fact, I was just setting off to see a new shipment of Belle Rouge port.  Would you perhaps be interested in accompanying me?”

Diana Gabaldon, Dragonfly in Amber (Chapter 6 – Making Waves)

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