A pair of elderly sisters walked on the lonely village road, with white hair and less gray hair, flying lightly in the cold sea breeze. The two sisters had fresh and gentle faces, wearing gray skirts and black capes. Both of them carried a tin basket in their hands, and gave the old man who lived alone a pair of socks knitted with both hands, and a pottery bowl of clear soup. There is a little food in the soup, a little green vegetables, a little oil star. Steaming. The old man ate with satisfaction, the soup running down his beard.
When the sisters returned to their quarters, the purifying Lutherans sat at the long table, waiting for them to sing soft hymns. On the wall was a portrait of the sisters' father. As a priest, he led the whole village to live a Puritan life, and trained a pair of beautiful young daughters as his right and left hands. Since his death, the daughters have inherited his place in the village.
In the kitchen, a woman in a dark gray dress took out a plate of cookies from the oven, looking a little tired and lazy. Beautiful dinner plates with light grey patterns are displayed on the wall. After everyone finished singing the hymn, Babette brought out the pots and bowls with mud-yellow pottery glaze and poured hot tea for everyone.
Back in time for decades, the two sisters stood in front of the screen like flowers, their dresses were gray-blue, their capes were beige, and their necklines had white lace. There are young people in the village who adore the sisters, but are driven away by their stern father. A young officer rode a horse to this isolated mountain village, and saw his sister with a lovely smile like a daisy and eyes as clear as Morrowind, and fell in love at first sight. In order to get close to her, he sat with the rigid believers and villagers to listen to the preaching of the pastor's father, received strange eyes from everyone, and ate biscuits that were so dry. Although he loves her deeply, for the sake of his future, the officer married a princess' maid and embarked on his road to success.
A Parisian singer came here to recuperate, was attracted by the singing of Sunday, and entered the chapel. The sweet singing came from a girl with blond hair and a white slender neck. He looked at the back with a look of intoxication on his face. The girl wore a white dress, like an angel, and sang an aria of love with him, the chorus was flawless. The singer invited the girl to Paris, and she stayed for her father and the church.
Many years later, on a stormy night, a woman came here. The two sisters were half-old women, guarding each other in solitude, sewing under the lamp. At this time, the skirts on their bodies were dark gray, and the shawls were woven from black wool. Youth is far away from the two sisters who used to have faces as beautiful as spring flowers and eyes as beautiful as the morning wind. Are the hard years that passed away worth their efforts? In 1871, Babette was introduced to this small fishing village from Paris by a singer.
Babette has a square face, tiredness and helplessness written on her middle-aged face. She took off the cap of her cloak, and on her head was a little satin hat. She asked the two sisters to take her in and she would work for them.
Despite the financial constraints, the two sisters left behind this woman of unknown origin, who taught her to make salted fish porridge. Take two dried sea fish from the drying racks outside the house and soak them in water. Then take the fish that has been soaked the day before from the water basin, cut the bones into two large pieces, and boil them in water. My sister said we call this "cooking". Babette closed her eyes and nodded. The younger sister took two bisque pottery pots, took out a piece of dry bread from the drawer of the table, broke it, soaked it in water, soaked it softly, and boiled it with the fish soup until it became a khaki bowl. The two sisters ate peacefully, and Babette took one bite, tasted it, and then took another bite, expressionless. Outside the window is a warm sunset, and there are old people herding sheep on the grass.
Although poor and monotonous, silence is exactly what Babette needs. She walked around the village, changed into the same gray dress as the villagers, went to the grocery store to buy food, picked out two onions and a small packet of sugar. Go back to the two sisters' residence and make them a pot of hot tea. Plants are dug in the fields, a little spice is put in the cooking pot, and there are several large and small copper pots hanging in the kitchen. When the fishing boat came back, Babette went to bargain, thinking that the fish was not fresh. Going to the grocery store to buy a small slice of cheese, humming a light-hearted song, and joking with the grocer, saying that now the only connection I have with France is a lottery ticket.
And the parishioners have become irritable and irritable in a dusty life. They slander each other, complain, resent, and even quarrel. Neither the sisters' prayers of persuasion nor the music could calm them.
Fourteen years later, the postman sent Babette a letter, the only link between Babette and Paris, a lottery number that won her ten thousand francs. Babette put on the good clothes of the year, looked at the white seabirds on the sea, and decided to hold a feast to thank the sisters for their care for more than ten years.
Babette said to buy some ingredients. A few days after they left, the two sisters reworked their rice spoons. In the golden sunset of the evening, Babette came back from France, empty-handed. The sisters were surprised and disturbed when her order arrived. There are seven or eight wooden boxes, a block of ice, a cage of quails, and a huge turtle. 1845's Burgundy red wine. Turtles and red wine gave my sister nightmares about what she was going to feed them. She told the villagers her unease.
Babette put on her apron and started working. Poke the stove, and ask the coachman and a half-old boy to help. In glass jars were fruit soaked in Rhum wine, boys plucking quail feathers, and bottles of herbs and spices. Babette was hanging a pot of stock. The table was covered with a snow-white tablecloth, and Babette ironed it carefully. A dining table with fine china plates that had been decorated in white for so many years on the walls, and silver candlesticks.
The young officer of that year had become a general, and he had a dialogue with his younger self in front of the mirror, asking himself whether he was in a good mood all these years. He got into the carriage and went to visit his childhood lover in the wind and rain.
Babette was making puff pastry boxes, pressing rounds and rings out of goblet glasses, pancakes from the oven, and the boy was opening the cork of the red wine. The guests came and sang chants in their formal black dresses. Babette cut off the head and neck of the quail, cut open the belly, put in the foie gras and black truffle, and put it in the crisp box.
When the general and the old lady arrived, Babette put a few yellow fruits (looks like ginkgo biloba) and two spoons of turtle soup into the amphora. The boy served as a waiter and announced the start of the feast, and everyone moved to the dining room. The dining table is breathtakingly beautiful. The boy filled the glass with golden Amontillado sherry, and the general tasted in admiration, looking left and right, no one resonated with him. He took the soup bowl in both hands and drank the soup. Empty soup bowls were put away, and with turtle soup as a starter, crepes topped with black caviar and sour cream, paired with 1860 Veuve Cliquot champagne. The general was amazed again, and this time the villagers communicated with him, and they spoke softly to each other, and their smiles became natural.
Babette made the Perigneux sauces, pouring them on the sides of the quail crumble boxes. The wine paired this time is a 1845 Porgeous red wine. Champagne with caviar, red wine with game fowl. The main course was followed by a vegetable salad, a cheese plate, a savarin cake garnished with fruit pickled in Rhum wine, and a glass spherical jug filled with water. The last fruit plate has grapes, pineapples, papayas, and figs, all of which are tropical fruits, which are rare in this northern land. After dinner drinks were Cognac Hine and freshly ground coffee. Everyone is content, the men are brothers, and the women are sisters. Babette sips old red wine and smiles tiredly and contentedly. The two lovers, the general and the elder sister, are speaking of sincerity and understanding.
Everyone returned satisfied, and the sisters thanked and wished Babette the success of her restaurant in Paris, and Babette said that the ten thousand francs had been used up. This meal is worth ten thousand francs.
"Babette's Feast" is adapted from the novel of Isaac Dinathan, a Danish film in 1987, which won the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film in 1988. It started with it, which has led to the enduring gourmet film in world cinema for two decades. wave.
Everyone has their own feelings when watching this movie. I only feel bad for Babette, not for the ten thousand francs, but I can't imagine that in these fourteen years of hardship, eating salted fish porridge every day, dreaming What kind of loneliness and sadness it is to meet with food. Babette is a woman who knows how to be grateful. She gave all her passion for food to the poor imagination of the villagers. For a cook who escaped from the French Revolution, with such a superb skill, you can imagine what she was like. Chef in the rich. The Great Revolution was devastated, and people like her and the host family in which she lives will inevitably encounter a cruel fate. Therefore, she will seek refuge in a small isolated fishing village in Denmark through the introduction of the singer. In troubled times, it is good to have all your life. It's just that when she makes porridge with salted fish and dry bread, she will definitely miss truffle foie gras caviar, champagne red wine brandy. Not for eating, just for doing.
Peerless martial arts can not be displayed, she is a real master of loneliness. This feast of ten thousand francs, if there is no general, where will you find a friend? Even though the stubborn villagers use the food to open the bondage of the mind and body, and sublimate the potential function of the food, no one knows the beauty of this wine and that meat, and it is not perfect.
Wei Wei is close to Mount Tai, soup is close to flowing water, so lonely.
This is a truly sad movie.
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