• Scenes from a rainy day

    One day last week

    I walked along the river, one second under the yellow light from the lamppost above, the next, swallowed in the darkness of a sky clearer than it’s been in the past month.
    It is cold, somewhere around 1°C. Perhaps not as cold as this time last year, but with the many rainy days we’ve had, cold nights don’t happen often; only mornings made of fog and misty winds.

    As I looked up, the norsken [nothern lights] had started their dance; one that I could gaze at for – almost – hours.

    This morning

    We woke up to rain. Coffee, bread toasted in a cast-iron pan, salted butter, and hjortronsylt [cloudberry jam].

    We lit candles around the flat to warm the soft blue tint of the clouds projecting on our walls. And dreamt about an old house with wooden walls and a deep ceramic sink; a kitchen window and unsteady floors that crack at every step.

    One month till the first snow. May it be so! We crossed our fingers under the table.

  • Le Creuset sizes

    To be used as a personal references, since I can never seem to remember which sizes I have and which are on my wish-list. Perhaps you’ll find it useful too. X Round cocottes | Oval cocottes Diameter Volume Length Volume 16 cm 1.3 L 23 cm 2.6 L 18 cm 1.8 L 25 cm 3.2 L 20 cm 2.4 L 27 cm 4.1 L 22 ...

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    Daube provençale à la Chavot

    I don’t know if I ever told you but a few months before we set off for Sweden, I spent a week-turned-half-a-year giving a hand in the kitchen at Brasserie Chavot; partly because they needed someone, mostly because I firmly intended to close my London chapter by working with chefs who had become my closest friends throughout the years, from the Capital Hotel to Brasserie ...

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    Three books

    I looked down in my basket. Four small Wedgewood Avon cottage dessert bowls, in the deepest shade of blue. A white casserole with a thin blue border and ceramic cracked slightly enough to tell the wonderful story of dinners at an old pine table. An aluminium springform tin, with an opening mechanism I had never seen before; remind me to show you someday. The Phoenix ...

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    Confiture de figues

    [Fig jam] We stepped off the plane only to be wrapped by the intense heat. With miles of sea ahead of us and the mountain in our backs, it dawned on me: this is home. A home away from home perhaps, but I could feel it, one deep breath of warm air after another; sea mist, tarmac, and gasoline. It had been over two years ...

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