‘Imitation is the highest form of flattery,’ Bon Iver says experimentally.
‘Yes, okay my love,’ I say, not really paying attention.
And then he shows me that he’s made my recipe for pannetone. He cuts a slice of the rich, yellow, chewy, airy loaf, jeweled with orange peel, and I hold it to my nose. It smells like winter.
It’s not exactly the same as the recipe I’ve spent years mastering, but it brings me joy all the same.