The end has no end

Last night, I said goodbye to a kitchen. As I was cleaning, I realised it would be the very last time. And I just couldn’t bring myself to live the space that had almost become my home.

A weird kind of home. Where stripped aprons seem to be trendy. And smiling faces too.

I then proceeded to cry. Only a little.

I turned the lights off. Gazed – for what might have been minutes – at the neat marble that was more than once swallowed by a pile of notebooks, flour, and too many two-litre containers.
Because, let’s be honest, I spent some solid hours treasure-hunting for those damn plastic boxes. So whenever one was found, it would be fought for and kept.

It was mostly a good fourteen-month. Made special by a few amazing chefs I got the chance to share my coffees and kitchen with. Oh yes, let’s take a minute to celebrate caffeine.

And more.


  1. Je trouvais tes derniers billets empreints d’une certaine nostalgie. Peut-être est-ce dû à cette période de transition ?
    J’espère que tes projets futurs te rempliront de rire et de joie!

  2. The end is the beginning, right? It’s just amazing how time flies. Fourteen months! (wow, that was a note to myself). Off to a fresh new start!

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