The end. Of this, that is.
I was writing when the timer went off. Upstairs, sitting cross-legged in front of my laptop.
It wasn’t as cold as the outdoors would suggest.
Don't you love dark chocolate ?
Fields of frost – Éclairs au chocolat, presque comme chez Fauchon
[Chocolate eclairs, almost like Fauchon's]
When trees are shaped like hearts; and breakfast means just-brewed coffee slash bike ride slash jonchée eaten as soon as I’ve taken my gum boots off.
And we run barefoot in fields of frost.
PS. I felt like cake; made one and ate a slice.
A friend, of the dear-to-my-heart kind, made this cake today. A few thousands of kilometres away. And I did too. In ten minutes, from cupboards to oven*.
It was eaten on the couch.
Et des morceaux d’arbres tomberaient du ciel – Le cake très chocolat
[And pieces of tree would fall from the sky - The ultimate quadruple chocolate loaf cake]
I plan to spend this autumn collecting dead leaves and horse-chestnuts, drinking coffees with warm mittens on, drawing the nights away, and day-dreaming about je ne sais quoi.
Mind your French – Le fondant au chocolat
[The ultimate chocolate fondant]
In London, we’ve had winter in July. Air damp with rain. Kitchens warm with soup on the stove. Oven smelling like chocolate cake.
And now, in the south of France, we’re having summer in September.
A little sweller – Petits quatre-quarts, au chocolat ou pas
[Little poundcakes, with chocolate or not]
It smells like the week-end around here. Actually, it’s been smelling like it for a week now.
And boy, week-end does smell good. Just-brewed coffee and toasted baguettes.
Skinny dipping – Double chocolate profiteroles
I haven’t been hanging out with my laptop much lately. You see, I’ve been sort of busy doing this. And some unexpected things. Of the good kind.
Like a lunch at Mauro Colagreco‘s Mirazur – which you will certainly hear of next week – and the less-than-occasional dip in the waves.
Almost wordless – Mandarine soup in a crisp dark chocolate tube
A mandarine soup that tastes better than bitting into the real fruit. The crunch of dark chocolate.
I always seem to think I don’t like citrus and chocolate. But I do.
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.