A Moveable Feast

I have always been a sucker or Hemingway…his quick, blunt prose, yet sensitive, romantic narration have kept me coming back to his novels again and again. While A Moveable Feast was not on the top of the list (I definitely prefer A Farewell to Arms, followed by The Sun Also Rises) there was something really special about pouring through this quick read while in the very location it was written…and reading it at the very same age of the protagonist. Hemingway’s reflections on his time in Paris, and in particular, the Latin Quarter and St. Germain, as a young writer (25), evoked a sense of nostalgia for a time I could never have known and secured familiarity to places where I had never been. By the time I made it to Brasserie Lipp on Blvd St. Germain, I had felt as though I had already dined there. For Hemingway’s words are timeless, and the settings which he describes have remained unchanged through the decades.

“The beer was very cold and wonderful to drink. The pommes à l’huile were firm and marinated and the olive oil delicious. I ground black peper over the potatoes and moistened the bread in the olive oil. After the first heavy draft of beer I drank and ate very slowly. When the pommes à l’huile were gone I ordered another serving of cervelas. This was a sausage like a heavy, wide frankfurter split in two and covered with a special mustard sauce.I mopped up all the oil and all the sauce with the bread and drank the beer slowly until it began to loose its coldness and finished it and ordered a demi…”

And so too did I :)

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