The perfect day needs no more than a person I love as much as he finds me annoying, and enough drinks and food to keep us going – let’s be honest, mostly drinks.
[On April snow and breakfast in bed - A five-minute brioche]
When I mentioned the five-minute brioche, I forgot to say it’s more of a five-minute and five-day brioche.
Five days where the blossoms turned into snow.
I don’t really know where to start about my – our – recent getaway to Cornwall. I have seen landscapes so beautiful my eyes hurt. I have eaten food so delicious my taste-buds remember.
Last night, I said goodbye to a kitchen. As I was cleaning, I realised it would be the very last time. And I just couldn’t bring myself to live the space that had almost become my home.
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.
A couple of days ago when Stephanie thanked me not to be a food snob, I think she didn’t realise how right she was. The proof lies in the bowl of rice I’ve just had.
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.
[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.
[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.
