Pâte brisée [shortcrust pastry] is a staple in every French home. For us, the recipe comes from my grand-mère, and of course, before I came around, it wasn’t much of a recipe.… Read more.
That morning, I woke up early and very unusually rested. I think the last time I had felt like this was when I woke up next to him, with his back beautifully… Read more.
[A cider and apple cake, not unlike a tatin tart] There was that night made of champagne, flickering candles, crisps and smoked salmon sandwiches, the last of the foie gras smothered onto… Read more.
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… Read more.
[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… Read more.
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. Black… Read more.
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… Read more.
[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.… Read more.
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… Read more.
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… Read more.
It’s been oh-so-quiet around here lately. Perhaps, that’s what happens when I have too much to say, too much to do, too much to look forward to. But last night, I saw… Read more.
[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… Read more.
I started collecting objects, to make up for memories I forgot. A blue pool ball, a broken cigarette, a plastic table number. I read words. Most of the time, at night. Yes,… Read more.