On Beverages Alone

I just finished reading Wuthering Heights for the second time, as I prepare for a 19th-century British Novel class I hope to teach this fall, and, would you believe, in that whole book there are plenteous mentions of eating and drinking, but nothing specific is mentioned? I counted tea (several times), "boiled milk," bread, and coffee. How everyone managed to storm about, braving the elements, nature, the cosmos, and eternity, on such a meager, mostly-liquid diet is a mystery to me.

"Nelly, I  am  Heathcliff!"

"Nelly, I am Heathcliff!"

Our Market offers more substantial beverage offerings, I'm happy to report. Ones that probably could have kept the first Catherine Earnshaw Linton above ground longer to drive everyone mad.

You might have tasted the elixirs at Mystic Kombucha, for instance:


Kombucha is fermented sweet tea, meaning its got plenty of yeast and bacteria for gut health, along with tasty flavors like ginger, peach, cayenne, and "passion." I'm betting Catherine and Heathcliff would've gone for the spicy varieties. I can't imagine Edgar Linton drinking fermented tea, however, and I'm betting his gut was always upset because of his wife's volatility.

If kombucha isn't your thing either, you may have wandered by the lovely display of Finnriver Ciders. You'll find plenty of varieties of traditional hard apple and pear ciders, along with adventurous blends that include herbs or spices. (A little Habanero Cider for Heathcliff, perhaps?) And then there are the dessert wines. Annoying, consumptive Linton Heathcliff might have benefited from a glass of "Spirited Blackberry Wine," but I doubt anyone who's read the book wanted that character to hang around a moment longer than necessary.


More traditional wines can be found at Fortuity Cellars and Wilridge Winery. The lovely summer evenings call for a rosé or pinot grigio.


Certainly the characters in Wuthering Heights suffered from too much isolation and would have benefited from breaking open a bottle of wine together, in any season. As the frame narrator Lockwood calls their corner of Yorkshire "a perfect misanthropist's heaven," no wonder everyone wanders around in snow, ice, rain, and cold, cut off from each other and harboring tuberculosis.

What everyone needs is a little community

What everyone needs is a little community

At the risk of sounding Nelly-Deanish, with her prosaic advice toward living a normal, healthy life, I invite you all in from the storms and rages of existence--make a visit to the Market this week for a glass of community, health, and welcome connection.