• I love you like chocolate cake

    I wake up to darkness, sleepy faces, and cold winds. I go home to darkness, empty streets, and many thoughts.

    In between, there is flour. And sugar. And butter. Lots of each. I spend my time in front of scales. Or plates waiting to be filled. I hear the ovens going off. I smell like chocolate. And I dream of eating something savoury.

    I live in a house where we turn the lights on at night, we eat out of chipped Bernardaud dinnerware, we drink cheap red wine, we set the washing machine to the highest temperature, we have full cupboards and an empty fridge.

    But somehow, it couldn’t feel more perfect than it is.

  • Street lights happen to be just like moments – Doughnuts à la vanille

    [Vanilla doughnuts] It’s been raining a lot these days. And the night has been falling late in the morning; leaving very few hours for the light to turn from golden to blue. It feels like I’m learning to read the time again. Except, not with numbers, but colours. I’ve been frying a lot of doughnuts these days. In a small pan over my gas stove, ...

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    Demain, déjà

    [Tomorrow, already] Today, the city woke up as I was slowly falling asleep after a night made of flour, butter and water. Through the cab window, it felt like the time had stopped. To that moment just before the dawn; when it’s still dark, but people are already running late. My bag barely hid the jackets I was taking home. One of them used to ...

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    I’ve been locked inside your heart-shaped box – Des pretzels au chocolat

    [Chocolate-covered pretzel] Many people will tell you that tempering chocolate is easy. Well, I’m afraid I don’t agree. The theory is easy. The practical side of it? Not so much. It’s messy. It likes to screw with my brains; and quite possibly with my white jacket too. It’s something from which I understand the underlying science. And yet, at times – palette knife in one ...

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    A six heures, ce matin

    [Six o’clock in the morning] This morning, too early for people to be awake and too late for party-bunnies to be asleep, the pavement seemed covered in snow. Glitters, cigarette ends and confetti that would shine to the subtle glow offered by lamp poles. The ones with the Chanel monograms. Yes, a new year had begun. Technically, it started on a night made of loudness ...

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