Got to love a man who, late of a beautiful Saturday evening in the crisp fall air–(okay. Jennie. Don’t laugh. I know it’s California. I know calling 60 degrees crisp and putting on a sweater and a fleece vest over it is a total wimpout. Crisp? Yeah, yeah, I know, my birkenstocks won’t know what hit them when I see you in Vermont)–takes his wife out on a dark-chocolate-hunting date. And those almonds are beyond dark. Perfect.
