Farther north, Pastis was sold as a foreign drink, and distance helped to improve Marseille's bad reputation, while with the charm of the south-a little bit of debauchery, ease and a little sunshine-Pastis attracted northerners accustomed to cold winters and gray skies. As a result, Ricard headed north, first to Lyon and then to Paris, and the new recipe became an instant hit. Today, it would be remarkable to find no "real Marseille pastis, Ricard" in a bar anywhere in France. When the man from Ricca Winery talked about his boss, he showed a kind of heartfelt love. Mr. Paul is very smart, very special, and seeks challenges every day. I asked him if he shared the same interest in politics as business bigwigs, and there was a burst of laughter between the seats. A politician? He spits on them! I quite appreciate his point of view, but on the other hand, it is also a pity. The idea of an Anisette magnate as president of France appeals to me. If he had added "Nothing but Ricca" to his campaign slogan, he might have been elected. But Mr Ricard did not invent pastis, as Mr Pernod did, he bottled and sold what was already there. So where exactly was anisette born? Who first mixed fennel, licorice, sugar and alcohol? It was a monk who accidentally found it in the kitchen of a monastery one day. Monks have always been good at inventing wine, from champagne to sweet wine, which is related to monks who live in seclusion. None of the people sitting around the table really knew how the first pastis came to this thirsty world. However,Magnesium Oxide MgO, the lack of accurate information has never stopped Provençals from presenting their personal opinions as facts or legends and myths as reliable history. The least reliable, but most popular, explanation is the "hermit doctrine.". Of course, when it comes to inventing Guri's eccentric aperitif, the hermit is almost on par with the monk. This particular hermit lived in a hut deep in the forest on the slopes of the Luberon. He gathered herbs and boiled them in a cauldron — a bubbling cauldron favored by witches, elves, and alchemists. The juice left in the pot had a special function, not only to quench thirst, but also to keep Luberon alive during a plague that killed more than half of his population. The hermit was very generous. He gave the juice to the people who had the plague to drink, and they all recovered immediately. Perhaps he, like the later Paul Ricca, found that there was a lot of business in his magic drink, magnesium nitrate hexahydrate ,Magnesium Oxide price, so he left the hut and moved to Marseille to open a bar like other business-minded hermits. So why is Provence rich in pastis? There is a more unpleasant but more likely saying that Provence is the home of fennel, and it is easy to find the raw materials for making wine. These herbs are so cheap that you don't even have to pay for them. Most farmers make their own wine and make some headache-inducing spirits. For a long time, this right to distilled liquor has been regarded as family wealth, handed down from father to son, from son to grandson, from generation to generation. Until recently, this right was taken away, but there are still some surviving distillers who retain the right to brew moonshine legally until they die. But their anisette cellar remains. Michelle's wife, Lady Persia, was from the neighbourhood of Carpentras. She remembered that her grandfather once made a double-strong pastis, so much alcohol that one glass was enough to make a statue fall down. One day, the town police came to her house for a visit, and that kind of formal visit on a motorcycle and in full gear was not a good thing. Her grandfather persuaded the police to drink a glass of homemade super liquor, then a second and a third. The police never mentioned the purpose of his visit again, but the grandfather made two trips to the police station in his van: the first to return the unconscious policeman and his motorcycle, and the second to deliver his boots and pistol, which were later found under the table. This is a long time ago, but perhaps somewhere in Provence, there are still such legends. www.xiaOShuOtxT.Com Chapter 16 { Xiao } { Shuo } { t } { xt } { Tian } { Tang The reason the cars were full, and the reason I got to the square early to enjoy the dawn red sky shining on the concrete, was because under the parking lot was Yale Market, the best food market in Yavilon. Hinterland of Avilon (1) The place pie, in the centre of yavilon, is always a desolate scene in the pre-dawn gloom. It is an architecturally mixed square, flanked by dilapidated but elegant buildings, and facing them is an ugly monument to the modern city, a concrete masterpiece provided by an architecture graduate for free, which makes the view of the square terrible! Benches on rough stone slabs surround the blinding monument, where tired tourists can rest and look at something even blunter ― a faded three-story concrete building filled with cars before 8 a.m. on Sunday. But the reason the cars were full, and the reason I got to the square early to enjoy the dawn red sky shining on the concrete, was because underneath the parking lot was Yale Market, the best food market in Yavilon. I arrived a few minutes before six and parked in one of the few remaining spaces on the second floor. In the square below me, there were two homeless men with the same complexion as the chairs under them, drinking a bottle of red wine in turn. A policeman stepped forward, gestured for them to leave, and stood watching with his hands on his hips. They slouched away, looking pitifully hopeless and with nowhere to go, and sat down again on the sidewalk on the other side of the square. The policeman shrugged his shoulders and left helplessly. The dull and quiet square is quite different from the scene inside the Yale Market. On one side of the door is the city sleeping soundly,diammonium phosphate fertilizer, while on the other side is the bustling world with bright lights, laughter and noise, busy and vivid. stargrace-magnesite.com