Most people don't have to know me long before realising that Mr Ernest Hemingway is a huge influence (ahem, obsession) in my life.
Yet perhaps only one person truly understands just how motivating it is, on a dark grey autumnal Monday morning, to drink my espresso from a Cafe de Flore cup, just as Mr H himself would have many mornings in Paris.
It's going to be a good week (and tonight I'm putting things in jars again so a recipe post is right around the corner)
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