[Crisp cinnamon biscuits] I don’t want fig leaf or oak bark infusion. I don’t want gimmicks and royal icing where it’s not needed. I want to explore flour, sugar, butter and eggs.… Read more.
I wish you were here with me. Sat on the patio. There is a wooden table which I’ve slowly taken over: notes, drawings of mushrooms, a mug holding watercolour brushes, a mismatch… Read more.
We started our day with a breakfast made of baguette and butter – or was it butter and baguette? – and coffee, of course. We drove to Antibes and sat on the… Read more.
[Blueberry clafoutis] The recipes I make don’t come in printed words. They come in barely-readable letters that I’ve written too fast. Felt-tip pen codes, more often than not smudged with water, or… Read more.
[Not unlike lost property – My grand-mother chocolate loaf cake] Last week I told you about… Read more.
Pâte brisée [shortcrust pastry] is a staple in every French home. For us, the recipe comes from my grand-mère, and of course, before I came around, it wasn’t much of a recipe.… Read more.
That morning, I woke up early and very unusually rested. I think the last time I had felt like this was when I woke up next to him, with his back beautifully… Read more.
One morning, we woke up to lights through the wooden blinds barely covering never-ending windows. Coffee got made. And we sat on the steps overlooking the garden. Early signs of autumn, drawn… Read more.
I received an email. Of a young pastry chef – L. – who was feeling like she didn’t belong to kitchens. We emailed back and forth. To me, there is nothing more… Read more.
[A cider and apple cake, not unlike a tatin tart] There was that night made of champagne, flickering candles, crisps and smoked salmon sandwiches, the last of the foie gras smothered onto… Read more.
It’s the light, a cold blue grey. It’s the window, adorned with pearls. It’s the wind, carrying the scent of moss and ocean. And just like you don’t even have to think… Read more.
Some days are ok. Others are grand. I remember that day when we felt like we owned the world. Kissing at every street corner and not even noticing the happy dance snowflakes… Read more.