Rosé indoors al fresco

Skip to the end for this entry’s challenge.

Mouton gets the award for lushest swag of the year:

The hearty canvas of the bag they sent me with the accompanying insulated sleeve and picnic throw scream “I am solid! But also pink! So!”

And so.

So I had myself a little indoor picnic because I like to celebrate small goth victories like the clouds of Los Angeles’ June gloom.

Not pictured: pistachio cake with pistachio frosting, lemon curd, and milk crumb topping.

Oh wait here’s a picture. It’s ugly though.

There’s a reason this blog is called Scrumptious GRUEL:

I could go on about the marvelous things I make from the Momofuko Milk Bar cookbook but let’s get to the rosé.

Here’s what you’ll feel in a bottle of Mouton Cadet Rosé:

Raspberries and stones. running streams. Strong love. An embrace with vigor. Which is my favorite type of embrace.

Vigorous.

Damn that’s a great word.

More stony up front perhaps a masquerade of the masculinity assumed with Bordeaux yet label and swag is pink but masculine pink and I do maintain real men wear pink.

And so do real goths.

Humble request for someone to make a Venn diagram of goth, toxic masculinity, pink, mental health, and…last one is your call.

Go!