En semester i Lövnäs, sista dagen

Our last day in Lövnäs ended just like our journey started, with a breakfast made of boiled eggs and danskt rågbröd. Early in the morning, we walked through the forest, searching frantically for a marshy glade. Chasing cloudberries, really. And when our boots sank into the ground, we knew we were in the right place. Around us, thousands of hjutron leaves and not a berry ...

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No other day than a Sunday – Clafoutis aux myrtilles, le Paris Pastry Club

[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 butter, or as you’ve heard me say before, chocolate. Ingredients quantities are crossed out and forever adjusted. I keep those notes in identical notebooks; black leather and square-lined pages, at times blank or ...

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Bonjour juillet

[Hello July] It’s raining. And somehow, we’re once again having winter in July. It seems to be a standard these days. And really, I could just write a letter to July. Not unlike the one I would write to that boy I’m in like with, that I’ve been in like with since I first saw him, in fact. A letter to July, sort of I ...

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Surprise, surprise – Madeleines aux framboises

[Raspberry madeleines] This morning, the sky turned black, of the bruised kind. And then, clouds started to grumble, roar really. For minutes. And before we knew it – {insert French accent here} surprise, surprise {end of French accent} – rain was pouring down in the kitchen window. I had chocolate lava cakes in the oven. Madeleine batter in the fridge. And a fraisier – just ...

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Bonjour juin

[Hello June] More than ever, this year, june feels like a new start. A kiss goodbye under the rain. Metaphorically and literally. Also the first time I won’t be able to wish my grand-father his birthday. May has been lovely. And way too fast. I still have to tell you about France. And everything that happened there. From our days at the beach to the ...

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Drink me

Sundays in France are made for: mornings in the kitchen and afternoons in the garden. With a possible visit to the vide-grenier [garage sale] and a few drinks at a café. We started early today. With pancakes and enough lattes to keep us awake for the day. Fast-forward to the vide-grenier where I found a set of cute glasses with a straw. They reminded me ...

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