#the stuffed donkey from the extras makes a guest appearance

[paramecie]

This is for @randomstufffromotherblogs 's birthday, HAPPY BIRTHDAY girl! What's better than remembering that wangxian are happy and married and will spend the rest of their lives together (Ｔ▽Ｔ) ♡

[mourntheantagonist]

Billy Hargrove’s Exploration of Beauty

| part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 |

| part 7: | one |

Part 7: When Blue Met Pink

chapter two: max

also on ao3

Birthdays at the Hargrove Household were never some extravagant event. Nobody ever had a party where they would get to invite a small number of friends and order a store bought sheet cake from the local grocer. They didn’t play fun party games like pin the tail on the donkey or musical chairs, they only ever had the four of them. Just Neil, Susan, Max, himself, and a lopsided chocolate cake Susan made from a box. It was only ever dinner and dessert, and a short section in the night where they would open gifts. 

Max’s Birthdays did always have a little more effort put into them, but it was still just the basic dinner, gifts, and dessert sequence with just a slight bit more care. Susan made a whole deal out of waking her up in the morning singing ‘happy birthday’ to her and making her favorite breakfast, while Billy was lucky to have Neil toss him a morning beer, but still, there were never any outside guests or fun traditions to make the time pass by. So on the day of Max’s fourteenth birthday, she sat there in her room by herself talking to friends on the phone and reading comics, while Billy sat in his, reading books he has read a thousand times before, both of them just waiting for the time on the clock to strike five.

Because the shitty part about birthdays at the Hargrove Household was that you weren’t allowed to leave unless it was for school or work. They treated birthdays like family days, where no outsiders could enter. They were meant to all be together, that was the idea, except Neil’s idea of togetherness was just being all under the same roof, in separate rooms, wasting away from the complete boredom. 

At five o’clock, they all simultaneously exited the rooms they had all cooped up in and joined Susan in the steam filled kitchen. The smell of chocolate icing and whatever casserole she chose to make occupied the whole house. Max sat down at the table that had one wrapped present sitting on top of it. It was rectangularly shaped with pink paper and a purple bow, a color combination that made Billy laugh. 

“Go ahead and open it up dear,” Susan said, “dinner will be ready in just a moment.”

Billy and Neil followed suit and took their own seats at the dinner table and watched as Max opened up her gift. She tore the paper open without much care, pink scraps flew everywhere. Underneath the pretty mess was a brown cardboard box that was sealed shut with packing tape. Billy watched as she struggled to pull the tape up from the cardboard. He watched as her face tightened as she dug her nails into the cardboard and struggled against the tape’s strength, and eventually slid his keys over to her so she could slice it open and stop the dramatic grunting. She took them with a half smile half smirk and jabbed the key into the space between cardboard flaps like she was mad at it, like she was gutting it for dinner, and dragged the sharp metal the whole length of the box. But, her smile slowly disappeared into just a resting look when she finally saw what was inside.

“What did you get kiddo?” Neil asked after he swallowed a swig of his probably sixth beer of the day. The look on her face was a very recognizable disappointment that seeped through despite the also clear efforts she was giving to conceal it. Her eyes grew soft and her whole face just fell into a dead stare.

“It’s Makeup.” she said. Her voice came out just slightly broken, noticeable only to those who were paying attention to it, noticeable only to Billy. She pulled out a few things from the box at the request of Susan. There was a package full of an entire shade range of sparkly  lip glosses, a face palette with blush and bronzer, some nail polishes of all different types of reds, all the way from the darkest burgundy to the brightest scarlet. Max’s reaction differed widely from Billy’s. Just the drop of the word ‘makeup’ made his heart skip a beat. A wave of fear washed over him as paranoia grew. He sat there wondering whether or not he remembered to take off the mascara he was practicing with earlier, were there black smears around his eyes? He looked down at his hands almost as if it were instinct to make sure the only coat on his nails was clear.

He was always very sure though. He had to be. He would rub the cotton pad over his eyes until the whites of them turned red and bloodshot, possibly even bursting a blood vessel in the process. He would make absolutely sure the area was completely clean before he even dared exit the slight safety he had within the four walls of his bedroom. A safety that in no way compared to the ease and comfort he felt under Steve’s roof wrapped up in his arms, but a safety nonetheless.

Max’s disappointment made Billy feel total envy. Jealousy, hate, resentment… She was completely ungrateful. She was not only able, but encouraged to do all of the things that he would be shamed for, and there she was, with a frown masked behind a fake smile that Billy saw right through, and he was envious. 

And he didn’t like it.

Because he was thinking all of the things people said about people like him, but in the opposite, and about Max. It was a constant battle within himself to fight off the internal monologue telling him how things are supposed to be. Billy was supposed to gag at the idea of sleeping with another man and wearing women’s clothing, Max was supposed to be overjoyed with all of this makeup, but instead she faked a smile and put everything right back in the box. She forced out a ‘thank you’ to Susan, and the rest of the evening continued on as if it was just a blip. At least that was how it appeared to everyone but Billy, who let his eyes wander over to the cardboard box on the counter every several minutes because it was always on his mind how that box would just end up in the back of Max’s closet along with all of the other useless things she’d bought in the past. It would all just sit there to collect dust while Billy was out scrounging for scraps because he didn’t have the guts to buy it himself, and Melvald’s only had so much to offer.

They sang happy birthday before the lopsided cake Susan made would eventually topple over due to gravity. Max’s mood seemed to lift as they broke out the dessert, because you really couldn’t go wrong with chocolate cake, even if it came straight out of a Betty Crocker box. It was a strangely okay night despite Billy’s constant averted attention. They all gathered for a movie and for just the two hour run time, they felt a little bit like a normal family. Passing around a popcorn bowl and curled up under blankets, it almost felt like a trap.

He brought his gift to her after the movie. It was a sock full of about ten dollars worth of quarters. “What’s this?” she asked.

“Money for the arcade? A weapon? That’s up to you. Happy birthday.”

She showed her first genuine smile of the night before he left her room.

“Thank you.”

When Billy went to bed that night, the thoughts of Max and her makeup dissolved into his sleep, and he woke up without a trace of the resentment and subsequent guilt he had felt the night before. He went on with his day without a second thought about the box that had been at that moment sitting in the corner of Max’s bedroom along with all the other makeup products Susan had bought before. 

It really had slipped his mind completely. He had other things to think about, other people to dream about, it was simply a blip on his radar and it wasn’t until several days later when he was gathering Max’s laundry so he could do an extra load, that it all came flooding back to him. Jealousy pumping through his veins at the sight of all the flavored lip glosses and those little duo eyeshadow palettes that were only a dollar at the drugstore piled high and unopened. 

So he made a bad decision. Uncalculated and reckless and would prove to be something he would regret. He dropped the laundry basket to the ground and began stuffing some things into his pocket. Several eyeshadows and glosses and nail polishes. She never touched them. She wouldn’t miss them. 

And there was no way she would know it was him, right?

Wrong. Because luck was not something Billy had. Because of course Max had to enter the house as quiet as a mouse and not make her presence known. Of course she had to walk right into her bedroom while Billy was wrists deep into the cardboard box full of makeup, with no excuse prepared on the tip of his tongue. 

When they both realized what they were doing they both froze and stared at each other, hoping their lack of movement would serve as invisibility. Max stood with her hand still firmly gripping the door knob and Billy’s hands had quickly retracted from the box, a tube of lipstick still in between his fingers and pockets visibly full with other stolen goods.

Neither of them said a word, too scared and too unsure of exactly what to say. Billy’s heart was in his throat and his fists were clenching tight enough that the glass tube could easily break.

So instead of speaking, instead of coming up with some kind of defense, he ran out. Slightly shoulder checked Max on his way through the door, took a straight path directly to his car outside, and drove to the one and only place he knew to go. The one place that he felt truly safe.

Because he didn’t feel safe right then. He felt like his world was getting ready to implode on itself and he just wanted to have those last few moments of comfort before everything inevitably went to complete shit.

He didn’t let himself cry. He was stone cold the whole drive over to the mansion at the edge of town. He didn’t break down until Steve’s arms were wrapped around him where they stood on the front porch. Sobbing into Steve’s jacket sleeve leaving tear stains and gripping the fabric tight enough between his hands he may leave permanent wrinkles.

“Hey hey hey,” Steve whispered into his ear, squeezing him tighter, surely tight enough to feel the fullness of Billy’s jacket pockets. “What happened baby?”

“I fucked up Steve. I fucked up.” Billy just repeated those last three words over and over again until his voice ran out of breath and they faded into nothingness, just complete silence from mouthed words.

“Come inside.” Steve said, taking Billy’s hand into his. “It’s okay, you’re here with me.”

Steve led Billy in through the doors of his house and up the stairs to his bedroom. Steve’s house was generally a safe haven for Billy, but Steve’s room… he felt like nothing could ever get him when he was in there. Those four walls plastered in hideous plaid wallpaper felt like an indestructible barrier, and he loved that every time he entered that room, a little piece of him found its way inside. A little piece of evidence that he existed.

It had started with the first Polaroid they took with each other. A blurry and overexposed shot of them out at the quarry at the ass crack of dawn when Steve thought that waking up early and watching the sunset would be a good idea. It wasn’t. Mosquitoes were everywhere eating at his flesh, it was cold as shit, and they were both starving… But then they saw the sun peek over the horizon and all the desire he had to leave had flipped a switch and suddenly he was glued to his seat in the dirt. Steve’s hand was rested on top of his, completely alone together in total silence getting to witness something beautiful together. It was amazing, but Billy would gladly not do it again, or rather stay in the car at least the next time, pack blankets and food so at the very least he’d be able to feel his fingers when he clicked the shutter on the camera. The photo hung on the cork board above his desk next to various others they had taken over time until they eventually ran out of film.

The next thing was the drawer that Steve had cleared out in his dresser after Billy had needed to borrow clothes just one too many times. The very drawer that began this whole journey that Billy was going on. 

The main point was, Steve’s room was eventually starting to become their room. Little by little, piece by piece… And it was safe. The place where he laid in bed in that little green lace teddy where Steve had told him he was beautiful and that there was nothing wrong with him. The place where Steve fucked him in the pretty baby blue panties he bought for him. The place Steve took him to take off all that makeup he had just put on him the other day. 

Now it was the room Steve took him to, sat him on the bed, and cradled him in his arms as he cried. 

“Just let it out, it’s okay.” Steve cooed in his ear.

And he did. Loud and unrestricted sobs escaped him until he was completely drained and out of tears and Steve’s crushing hold on him had calmed him down just enough to the point that he could finally speak.

“I stole from Max.” He said, reaching into his pocket to pull out one of the glosses he’d taken. His hand was visibly shaking. “She caught me… she’s gonna… she’s gonna tell her mom or my dad, Steve!” His breathing was growing erratic again and Steve immediately responded by grabbing Billy’s face and angling it toward him so that he was forced to look him directly in the eyes.

“Hey Bills, breathe. I’m right here.” he whispered. “It’s going to be okay, I promise. Max doesn’t seem like the kind of person to just tell like that.”

“Really!?” Billy snapped. “She doesn’t?! Do you not remember how I ended up in this shithole in the first place? Max has no idea how to keep her mouth shut.”

“Billy, that was almost a year ago, and trust me. She’s better at keeping secrets than you think.” Steve ran his fingers through Billy’s hair to try and bring him back to his senses before he completely blew up. He pulled Billy in for a lengthy chaste kiss which proved successful at evening out his staggered breathing. “While you’re here, why don’t we try out some of these stolen goods? I wanna see what this tangerine flavor tastes like.”

Billy’s demeanor finally softened and he handed the gloss over to Steve and let him apply it to his lips. Always so gentle in how he let the applicator slide against them, a striking contrast to how he treated his lips when he was kissing him. Billy smacked his lips together and dragged his own tongue against them. “Tastes good.” he said with a shy smile.

“Well save some for me!” Steve said before pulling Billy back in by the nape of his neck and giving a perfect demonstration of that contrast he mentioned. Taking Billy’s lower lip in between his teeth, sucking on his lips like he was consuming his dessert, which wasn’t necessarily untrue. They kissed each other until every last bit of the lipgloss they had just applied was completely licked off and their mouths were red and puffy. They separated and before Billy could go back in for another round, Steve put his hand up to Billy’s chest to stop him. “As much as I love kissing you, you should probably run home before your dad sends out a search party.”

Billy sighed, because he was right. He ditched the stolen makeup in Steve’s bedroom and said his goodbyes, saying several little prayers to himself so that just maybe, when he finally got home, Max would still be in her room, having not said a fucking word about what she saw.

Sure enough, when he got home, Neil was fortunately working on the truck in the garage, a pretty good sign that Max hadn’t told, but still, he entered that front door with extreme caution. Susan was in the kitchen preparing the leftover spaghetti from the night before for dinner, and Max was nowhere to be seen. Rather than poking the bear, he went directly to his room to actually prepare how he wanted to confront her about it. He just wanted to sit down on his bed and try to relax, but instead there was something in the way.

Sitting on his bed was the same cardboard box he’d had his hands rifling through just an hour ago. Still full of all that still sealed makeup she had acquired over the years. There was a small sticky note attached.

“Maybe you’ll be able to get more use out of this shit  than I did. - Max”

He turned around to make sure nobody was there and he was nearly given a heart attack when he saw Max standing in the doorway.

“Jesus you need a fucking bell on you.” he said after trying to recover from the initial shock.

“I covered for you.” Max walked all the way into the room and shut his door behind her. “I’m sorry if I scared you, I won’t tell anyone if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“How did you know it was for me?” he asked, the reluctance clear in the way his voice cracked.

“You looked happy.” she said, a slight smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

Billy waved the little note he had in his hand and matched her slight smile. “Thank you… for this.” 

Max just nodded. At that point Billy expected Max to just leave his room and that would be it, but she just stood there, like she had more to say.

“Is there something else?” he asked.

Max fiddled with her hands and finally found the courage to get the words out. 

“Where did you go?”

“Huh?” Billy asked, pretending not to understand the question.

Max sighed and finally looked up at Billy with serious eyes. “Did you run off to Steve’s after I found you?”

If you had asked Billy how he would have reacted to that question yesterday, he probably would have panicked just like he did when she had caught him in her room. But right then, it was different. He didn’t feel that same panic and fear when he heard Steve’s name pass her lips like that, instead he felt a little proud. He almost felt safe. Just like he did in Steve’s bedroom. He no longer looked at Max and saw the little girl who outed him to his dad or the little brat who ran off when he was supposed to be watching her and later stabbed him in the neck with some needle. Instead, at that moment he saw his sister who not only kept her mouth shut about the makeup, but fucking gave it to him. He felt safe.

“Yeah, I did.” he said, his smile didn’t falter.

Max’s smile widened along with his.

“Good. I’m glad.”

next part

[cowperviolet]

A Fantasy Writer’s Guide to Entremets

Ok - I know that fantasy worlds don’t have to be medieval-influenced. However, most do tend to have historical elements from different eras worked into them; so why not entremets, especially since they have their origins in the feasts of antiquity, and have been deployed through the Middle Ages and Renaissance both? 

If anything, they fit the Rule of Cool. 

So, what are the entremets? To put it very simply, they are the elements of the feast that do not, strictly speaking, belong on the menu. They can be statues, performances, automata (I guess I should put steampunk in the tags), tableaux, even edible-stuff-that’s-just-really freaky. 

Here are some examples (most are drawn from the Burgundian court, because it was the most Extra one):

(Technically) edible stuff:

A lamprey burrowed into a river bottom - that is, a lamprey meat is roasted, then covered in a thick sauce made from combining its blood with spices and vinegar to create the effect of mud.

Cigne revestu - a cooked swan redressed in its skin and feathers.

Doreures - poultry is stuffed with a mixture of pork, bacon, eggs, spices, pine-nut paste, and currants, then roasted; the leftover stuffing is made into balls and roasted as well. Then everything is covered in gold and silver leaf. Because they can. 

Coqz heaumez - a stuffed roasted hen is seated atop a piglet and given a helmet of glued paper and a lance. These should be covered with gold- or silver-leaf for lords, or with white, red, or green tin-leaf, depending on the hen’s station in life, I guess.

Statuary:

The portrayal of the story of the Swan Knight - a wooden box with wheels is constructed; water-filled lead coffer holding a minever-covered parchment boat and a swan sculpture tied together with a golden chain are placed within.A cloth painted to represent water is then attached to hide men who are going to move the box around underneath. 

The Cleveland fountain - an octagonal Gothic tower in three tiers of gilt-silver. Liquid (can be perfumed/rosewater) rises through the central tube and issues from the mouths of the four animals at the top. Then it cascades down each level through spouts in the forms of human and animal faces. The water jets turn a series of wheels attached to bells, making everything whirl and ring.

Something I am going to leave as a direct quote, because I can’t even - ‘At a special table there was a high pillar, on which was seated an ymage of a young woman, nude except for her long blonde hair which covered her back to her waist; on her head was a rich hat; [she was] wrapped, so as to preserve propriety, in a cloth like a fluttering veil with Greek letters on it in many places, beautifully written in violet; and this ymage jetted hippocras from her breasts the entire duration of the supper. And near her, braced against the dresser, was another pillar, not as tall, but a little thicker, like a platform, on which was attached, by an iron chain, a very beautiful and entirely alive lion, as a sign to guard and defend the ymage; against his pillar was written on a charge in gold: Do not touch my lady’. 

A (thank God) fake fire-breathing lion - the sculpture’s mouth is lined with brass-lined mouth, with paper teeth glued within. Camphor and a little cotton are put there, and lit just before it’s presented to the guests.

A ship - such as a miniature anchored carrack laden with various merchandise, with miniature figures of sailors to complete the picture.

Spice-carrying miniature figures of animals -  these could be large elephants carrying castles, dromedaries with large baskets, unicorns, stags, etc. The animals would be bedecked with gold, silver and azure, their coverings decorated with gold thread and silk. Each of them carried the arms of a lord subject to, in one particular case, the Duke of Burgundy, with the name of the town or lordship. But really, any overlord fits. 

Tableaux/mini-plays:

These are highly specific things, tailored to each occasion - whether, political, pious, marital or simply entertaining - so I’m going to describe particular instances that can be, however, easily dismembered into elements:

The entremet of the Holy Church was something presented by Philip the Good, Duke of Burgundy at his Feast of the Pheasant in 1454. It began with an armed giant in a long green silk robe with the turban on his head entering the room leading an elephant covered in silk. On the elephant’s back rode a lady wearing a white satin robe with a black coat and headdress (i.e. looking nun-like, but not quite). Addressing the noble company, the lady revealed that she was the Holy Church. As one does, she delivered a long complaint poem to those present, detailing her fallen state after the Turkish capture of Constantinople, and then asked for their aid. In the Ye Olde Photo Op, the Duke drew out a letter promising to aid his fellow Christians and had his herald read it aloud to the assembled guests. Having heard this assurance of aid, the Holy Church blessed him and was led out on her elephant. The evening culminated in the nobles offering immediate written vows to sign up for a crusade. 

The wedding of Charles the Bold and Margaret of York involved a series of carefully staged entremets chock-full of symbolism, given the touchy political nature of their union:

First, a man dressed as leopard came into the room riding a ‘unicorn’ caparisoned in a cloth painted with the English royal arms. The leopard held an English banner in one paw and a daisy in the other. Charles’ maître d’hôtel took the flower and presented it to the groom, saying: “Most excellent, high and victorious prince, my awesome and sovereign lord, the proud and awesome leopard of England comes to visit the noble company; and for your consolation and the consolation of your allies, countries and subjects, makes you the present of a noble marguerite.”

The second entremet was, in turn, dedicated to Margaret. A giant ‘lion’ entered, his covering painted with the arms of Burgundy.  Madame de Beaugrand, the dwarf of Margaret’s new stepdaughter Mary of Burgundy, rode upon it, accompanied by two noblemen. Madame de Beaugrand was dressed in a cloth-of-gold and violet version of a shepherdess’s garb and held a basket painted with the names of various virtues, a Burgundian banner, and a small dog on a leash. Then the ‘lion’ circled the room and sang a song welcoming the “beautiful shepherdess” who is “the source of hope, solace, strength, pride, peace, and safety for all the ruled lands.”

As a last note, possibly just to highlight the lavish and cosmopolitan nature of the court into which she has married, a highly realistic simulated camel saddled “in the Saracen manner” entered the room, with a man dressed in an Eastern fashion and two giant baskets on its back. He opened the baskets and took from them “birds strangely painted, as though they came from India,” and released them to fly around the room. They landed on various tables to the sounds of trumpets.

‘A marvellously large and beautiful stag entered the room, all white with large golden antlers, and covered in a rich covering of green and vermilion silk, as far as I could tell. A young boy twelve years old was mounted on the stag, dressed in a short robe of crimson velvet, wearing a little black slashed hat on his head, and shod in fine shoes. This child held on to the antlers of the stag with both hands. As he entered the room, he began on a song in a very high and clear voice, and the stag seemed to sing the tenor part, without there appearing to be any other person about save the child and artifice of the stag, and the song they sang was called ‘Je ne voy onques la pareille etc.’ [I have never seen her like].’ (Olivier de la Marche’s memoires, 1562). 

‘A watchman on the tower made as if to carry out his watch, and recognising that the tents and pavilions represented towns that were friendly, called for a fanfare of trumpets, which was performed by four boars from the windows in the tower. Then four lifelike goats appeared at the same windows, playing a motet on sackbuts and shawms; followed by four wolves with flutes, then four donkeys singing a song in four parts. For the fifth and last entremets, the watchman asked for a ‘morisque’ dance to entertain the company. Seven lifelike monkeys emerged along a balcony rail from a door in the tower. They found a mercer asleep by his wares and proceeded to play with them. They danced a morisque; then the tables were cleared and the guests danced’. (Ibid.)

[travelplanetblog]

In fall 2014, when tourist season ended up I started to explore Brač in more detailed manner. The reason is very simple on the island you do not have anything to do “smarter” than to just go out there and snoop. I was heading towards Supetar, but my car “somehow turned” to Postira. The eyes were stuck on the right side of the road in a valley that was full of trees and some fruits. Hard working people moved all over the place and little by little, I found that there is a big valley full of tangerines, kiwis and lemons. I just could not believe that I am truly blessed with the sight and opportunity to buy real organic stuff.  The colors all around are in autumn’s mood and I can not believe how everything idyllic looks like.

In the distance, you can see hills with small village houses peaking the valley. First that you will notice when entering the village is that there are semi caves all over in shape that you can imagine that people or animals take some rest and have the safe place to hide when it is raining.  The caves and the rocks have the rugged orange-red color. Actually, the whole place is situated between two hills and you feel like those rocky arms give a big hug to a village in order to protect it from any bad monster that would like to come along.

Dol the valley / dolina

Dol – stone hrapačuša / kamen hrapačuša

Dol – abandoned ship / napušteni brod

Dol tangerines / mandarine

Dol

Hrapačuša – the stone and the cake

I parked my car just at first possible site and I grabbed my camera in order to shoot as much a possible. I feel like I am in some kind of fairytale, a scene from long-forgotten Disney story: everything is in the very picturesque tones; old houses built in some kind of different eccentric crunchy stone (later I found out it is called “hrapačuša” and the same name stands for the famous original autochthonous cake that is truly special as for its production you need at least 15 eggs, kilo of walnuts and kilos of almonds!). The cake hrapačuša is also declared the protected immaterial cultural good of the Republic of Croatia. The original recipe Dol’s women keep as their own big secret, so the legend says that in the old days, these valuable hands made that cake at night, just to keep the recipe in secret. Besides its appearance (it just looks like the ragged cake) and how it is made, the cake is famous that can keep its freshness for 5-6 days.

Dol – Cake hrapačuša / Torta hrapačuša

Dol – Stone hrapačuša

Dol house from hrapačuša

Dol

Dol – house from hrapačuša

Dol

Konoba Toni

  And as I happily walk through the ethno-ecco village Dol, I find myself in an interesting court, with a lot of different stuffed souvenirs and features … from a fishtail, an old wheel of a mill, old bottles to keep wine and of all the old ones placed beneath the terraces on which they grow intermingled kiwis and grape vines (so for the first time I actually can see how the kiwi grows in real!). What a good feeling! While I am shooting like a crazy, a man comes to the door, looks at me and in a moment of seeing that someone is snooping his yard, he gives me a big smile. Well, that was Mr. Tonči Matulić, the owner of Konoba (tavern) Toni. Well, from all that photo shooting I did not even realize that I am in front of the restaurant. I apologized because of intruding the property, but Mr. Tonči graciously invites me to look and to step into the tavern and look everything in a 300-year-old rustic building where wine is still produced in a very traditional way and where some long time ago olive oil was made also. A little bit dark room with a bar, and above it a “cage” for preserving prosciutto and cheese that looks like a big hanging cage and it is built in the way that simultaneously makes the products drier and protects food from bugs. Special attention drawn to me are the goat’s bellows, that were once used for carrying and transporting water and wine all over the island. Those bellows were carried mostly from donkeys. and transported everything that was liquid – water and wine, most often on donkeys.

While hearing that stories, it just hit me that I could even eat something authentic and to give myself a well-deserved treatment of exploring the new tastes. But, here comes the answer from the owner that actually the restaurant is closed. It was a real disappointment… And I was feeling very, very hungry. As almost as he could hear my thoughts, Mr. Toni invites me to eat with its wife, brother and son. It was not my intention to intrude someone’s family lunch so I politely rejected the offer. Hm… that was not the answer they wanted to hear… just like I was their family relative that they have been waiting for. So, I had them four against one… I did not have a chance…

His wife made an excellent homemade lamp soup with potatoes and with homemade bread. While eating, they are telling me all about the sights and details that I need to visit and what to photoshoot while here in Dol. After the extra delicious meal, I was ready to go with another photo shooting.

I must add – the food was extra and their hospitality is just great. After sometimes I found that this kind of hospitality of this family is not just an accident or they were in the good mood. It is their way of living. That how they treat each guest and each lost tourist.

After everything, they made me pick up a couple of kilos of tangerines in a bag that they just picked up from their own plantation! Just to have some food while exploring… I was overwhelmed…

Each time I came here, the situation was always the same… So, I need to bring some bottle of wine and chocolate just to thank them in some way!

That first time I was very sorry not to be able to taste the cake, but in the spring next year I managed to give it a shot just in this Tavern Toni. It was extraordinary!!! Although, while I had it on my plate it looked a little bit “modest” slice, and after some bites, it was very hard to finish it. I just forgot what kind of material it was made. The tones of calories!

  Dol – konoba Toni

Dol – konoba Toni / kiwi

Dol – konoba Toni

Dol – konoba Toni

Citadel Gospodnetić

In a couple of time when searching and exploring Dol, after 2 years from my first visit I managed to enter Citadel Gospodnetić family home of the Gospodnetić family that is also museum and restaurant.

The name Gospodnetić is an old Croatian name, mostly from island Brač. In the last century mostly people with this name were born in Split and Brač.  

Area of the name – in Croatia there is about 260 with name Gospodnetić, in 110 households. In the middle of the last century their numbere increased for 30% at number about 200. 

They live in 7 Croatian counties, 12 cities and 11 smaller places, and mostly in Split (70), Supetar (45), Dol (45) and Postire (40) in Braču and in Zagrebu (35).

Outside Croatia – the name Gospodnetić (that also includes: Gospodnetic, Gospodnetich) is present in 10 countries at 4 different continets including smaller number in Chille and the USA. 

    Kaštil sam imala prilike vidjeti svaki puta izdaleka, jer bi uvijek bio zatvoren. I opet ja… Ovaj puta vidjela da su vrata otvorena, spustila se niz stepenice i pojavila se i pravila nevješto da se skoro pa zabunila (sada sam se već i ispraksirala, jer shvatila da neću ništa ni vidjeti ni poslikati, ako ću se bojati i “imati srama”). Malo čudni pogledi domaćina, ali ja lijepo zamolila da ako mogu malo pronjuškati u cilju fotografiranja i čuvanja uspomena… Kad ono, ljubazna domaćica ne samo da me pustila, nego mi ispričala povijest kaštila. U kući kao da je vrijeme stalo: satovi, rukopisi, stari radio, bogato ukrašena keramika i čaše, stare fotografije, sofa, na zidovima stare tapete bogato ukrašene, a sve to iz razdoblja raskošne secesije s kraja 19. stoljeća. Nastao je kao vojna utvrda koja je štitila od najezde Osmanlija iz 16. stoljeća.

Kako sudbina obično biva, neobična strankinja s fotoaparatom koja tako upala u kuću i podigla sve obrve koje su domaćini imali, a između njih i sada jako dragoj kolegici iz Planinarskog društva Profunda (koji djeluje na Braču, a koja će isto dobiti jednom svoju priču). I baš zbog nepotizma, a i obećanja da će mi nabaviti dodatne materijale, doći ću ponovno i napraviti još jedan članak… Dakle, draga moja Gospe, očekujem nastavak i suradnju tako da pokrijem povijest, jer nisam imala ni diktafon ni olovku ni papir, samo fotoaparat, a tko bi znao da ću se počet blogovanjem bavit. S toga ćemo taj članak naplatiti u vidu famozne torte od naranče s malo vrhnja koja se može pojest u Kaštilu Gospodnetić, a ja donosim vino 😉 (naravno, ima i hrapoćuša… mljaaaaaaaaaaaaac 🙂

p.s. – moram napomenuti da je Kaštil i restoran kojeg vodi Gospin brat, pa ljeti vabi turiste na jedinstven pogled s terase. Međutim, lokacija i kapacitet su mali, pa samo idu na rezervacije. I moram li napomenuti da se ništa ne prepušta slučaju, pa je svaki detalj pomno biran, pomno sačuvan i upravo stoji na mjestu kao da je ostavljen u vremeplovu!? Jedinstven obiteljski dom-spomenik kulture-restoran-vidikovac-promatračnica na cijelu dolinu- i crtica-crtica… svašta još nešto…

Dol

Dol kaštil Gospodnetić

Dol

Dol kaštil Gospodnetić

Dol kaštil Gospodnetić

Dol kaštil Gospodnetić stone apiary / kameni pčelinjak

Dol kaštil Gospodnetić

Dol kaštil Gospodnetić

Dol kaštil Gospodnetić

Dol kaštil Gospodnetić

Dol kaštil Gospodnetić

  Dol – something red and totally different In fall 2014, when tourist season ended up I started to explore Brač in more detailed manner.