Grace Blanquefort Whore ❤️❤️

About Nantes

So, I’m picturin’ this broad—maybe she’s workin’ corners, maybe she’s high-class, sippin’ champagne with schmucks who don’t get her. Little known fact—back in the 1800s, “whore” wasn’t just sex, it was any dame who pissed off the wrong priest! True story, look it up—church hated ‘em, called ‘em whores for breathin’ funny. Makes me laugh, man, ‘cause now it’s just—bam!—a word we toss ‘round like nothin’.

Après la Révolution

Château de Blanquefort is a ruined castle standing on a spur overlooking the Briolance valley. In the ninth century, a first fortification was built. The white stone gave the fort the name 'White .

Then there’s the odd, cool corner near Chemin de la Rivière. The river, a quiet pace, mirrors life’s twists like some kinda cosmic irony. Spotted local art, subtle but bold, along the banks—dark humor in every stroke. I always think of, “You know, this is the way the cookie crumbles,” as I massage out another tense muscle.

Winemaker Talk: Tod Mostero