“I am just a dreamer, and but you are such just a dream.” — Neil Young That moment when I’m going all tumblr-ish on you. Yes, it’s time for it. PS. And the worst part is: it’s not over. PS bis. You can thank the amazing type-writer. PS (the last one). What’s your all-time favourite […]
A rainbow kind of sky, as seen from my bike. It was so beautiful it made me question my love for dawn over sunset.
Ohhh such important matters…
I wake up to the shy sound of a detuned French radio. And leave a half-drank latte – stay put – on the kitchen table. Off on my favourite hollandais bike. It rattles, unexpectedly. And the brake feels ever too fierce. But it takes me to the market. And the little fort by the beach; […]
[On a bicycle] I’ve been riding my bicycle through the beach, and putting tray after tray of madeleines in the oven. It smells lovely around here. Of warm butter and vanilla. You should come.
Yes, there are only so many things I know. Making wishes, of the fairylike kind. The taste of his lips; and the feeling in my stomach that it’s all just like a dream. The smell of fresh yeast when brioche is being made. The beauty of fireflies around me. Being lost in the fog. The […]
It might be safe to say that, in a perfect world, this would be my breakfast. Everyday. That week in Fouras possibly was the closest I could get to perfection. A perfection that tasted damn good. Especially with a sprinkle of vanilla sugar. Perhaps, it was just a breakfast. But it certainly didn’t feel like […]
[Moments, in the kitchen] Sat at the table for breakfast. A breakfast that smells of toast and salted butter – the one with crisp fleur de sel – and, of course, coffee. My grand-mère talks too much in the morning, but for all the gold in the world, I wouldn’t want to stop her from […]
[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. Roast vegetables and fish caught the night before. Soup and summer tart; perhaps with a handful of late raspberries, or a […]
fromager/crémier (the first, in front of the main entrance) rue de la halle, 17450 fouras I could list the places I belong to. But, at the end, it would just be a meaningless thread of city names, and at times, neighbourhood or county names. What I find interesting is the very reason why we belong […]
Today, I booked a flight to a place I haven’t been in a year. But even with my eyes closed, I would still be able to ride my bike to the little fortress by the marais [marsh]. With the sound of the wind through the wheels as the only music, and the smell of the ocean […]
[Bread on the board]* Other than grazing at the London sky for hours, being stuck in bed for the past six days has also given me the chance to learn that Oxford University is sort of breaking-up with the Oxford comma – now, we have a problem here; my life depends on serial commas (and […]