[Daydreams - Vanilla riz au lait and more]
It’s ten am. The wind is howling through the windowsill. And the rain battering against the glass.
Yes, I’ve told you before, it’s my favourite kind of music.
Don't you love canon 400D ?
Pure morning – Burnt honey, vanilla, and parsnip ice-cream
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 to know you’ve fallen deep-hard in love, I didn’t have to look through the open window to know we’d been surrounded by cotton overnight.
Note #1 – On cooking and perfection
“Cooking is an endless quest for perfection; it is at the same time never reached and always there.”
— Julien Vaché
On days, like a merry-go-round – Butter pan-fried gnocchi with ketchup
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 made around us.
She fell in love with… #5
Guys, it’s eight pm. And I’m sitting in my bed. Looking at the sun playing hide-and-seek through the City. Perhaps, I took a picture with my phone. And one with my minolta instant pro too.
From me to you, Gaïa – Cake de voyage au yogi tea
[Yogi tea journey cake]
It was the end of autumn and my days were spent on a farm, milking goats and making cheese. I met her. She had a name from the earth and an Australian accent.
Dans le jardin
[In the garden #1]
We picked radishes. A big fat handful of them. We cleaned them under running water and kept the leaves for a soup. We ate two strawberries straight from the plant.
Un dîner d’été – Tarte à l’abricot et à la pistache
[A midsummer dinner - Apricot and pistachio tart]
I had a pâton of pâte sucrée in the fridge. And a little bag of roasted pistachios a friend brought back from Lebanon. And of course, too many apricots sitting on the counter.
Les abricots
Yesterday, we found a basket on our fence. The third this week. It’s made of osier and hung by a metal hook.
Inside, we could see apricots. And at times, cherries.
“Busy”, for ever and more
Trying to finish the book keeps me busy. But I have the feeling, someone – not to name anyone, Lukie – is going to keep me even busier.
She/he’s the tiniest thing I’ve ever held in my arms and I can’t seem to get enough of her/him*.
All mornings should be like this – Custard-filled cornbread
Yesterday, two am.
Tonight, we ate al fresco. In our garden. Who said you’re not allowed to play make-believe anymore?
I made dessert. One strawberry tart, only it’s so much more.
Réussir le fondant pâtissier blanc, pas à pas – Mastering white pâtissier fondant, step by step
One of the first things you see through a boulangerie-pâtisserie window in France is a herd of glazed éclairs and choux. Pretty in pink, brown, white, and more often than not, green too.
Comme la rosée des matins d’été – Confiture de concombre à la vanille
[Not unlike summer morning dew - Cucumber and vanilla jam]
I walked in mud and bought some vintage tupperwares at a vide-grenier. I saw waves bigger than life. I felt them too.
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.
Not unlike living in cotton – Scones, scones, scones…
So it seems I’ve told you I’d see you soon with tips for the perfect scones. Apparently, soon can hold different meanings.
A birthday to the sound of drum n’ bass, and glow-sticks around my wrists.
On clouds blanketing everything we see – Roast chicken and root vegs
An hour ago, I took a whole – 1,5kg kind of whole – chicken out from the oven. Just for myself.
You see it started this morning when I first opened my curtains to a day where clouds blanket everything we see.
Everyday magic
I made scones today. Twice, because two seems to be a trending number these days. Same recipe, except for five extra grams of milk.
And somehow, no matter how long I have been a pastry chef for, I’m still amazed by how details matter.
Bonjour avril
[Hello April]
My weeks have been made of Sundays lately. And it really feels like walking with my eyes closed and crossing my fingers at every step I take.
Not unlike getting lost.