Tag: summer

rhubarb pile

Bonjour juin, rhubarb edition

Let me tell you the story of yesterday. Or rather, of yesterday afternoon. We stopped at the gas station. Two French hot-dogs and bad cups of coffee later we turned right on the old road towards Kusmark. It had only been a couple of weeks since our last trip and yet, the never-ending sun turned […]

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peach macarons

Le chasseur et le ceuilleur – Macarons à la pèche

[The hunter and the gatherer – Peach macarons] Today, I don’t have any magical stories to tell you. It’s summer. And that’s magical enough for me. Yes, I’ve walked barefoot in the grass. And sat on a bench where the river and the book that both lay past my eyes, almost became one. We’ve taken […]

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summerlove

Bonjour juillet

[Hello July] The sun has been setting just before midnight and rising shortly after one. Lilac bouquets have turned the bushes, which edge the sidewalk, into a purple dream. And ducklings have been following us during our evening walks by the river. We’ve had a wonderful month of June, perhaps not as sunny as I’ve […]

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summer house-18

And there are dragonflies

We drove and drove. It seems roadtrips are always involved whenever we are in Sweden – and really, I’m not complaining. And while I have so many things to tell you: that one drink Jessica made for us; the roadtrip we took to the mountains, fishing on a lake at three in the morning, under […]

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raspberry-summer

Things that #3… I dream about

A for ever summer. Perhaps in Iceland. Yes an endless summer exploring the muddy roads of the island couldn’t sound better. Picking raspberries. And blueberries too. Maybe even cloudberries. An illustration in chickpea magazine. And an article in kinfolk. Making desserts after hours; one day when I’m not working too much. Always. Days spent at […]

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sunsetlovesmall

Love like a sunset

There was an endless road to the north. Always. We drove over ponds and lakes; at times, even the sea. There were trees everywhere we looked. And really I had never seen so many. Ever. Before. We stopped for gas, perhaps an excuse for coffee. Many times. A latte. Perhaps a kanelbulle. And more often […]

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greek iced coffee

Summertime coldness – Café frappé, comme en Grèce

[Iced coffee, just like in Greece] There is this nice place a few footsteps away from Knightsbridge. It has a counter made of salads – more beautiful one than the other – and cakes – most likely blueberry with some kind of oaty crumbles. It also has the cutest waiters. And they make coffee, the […]

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blackberry tart

Bonjour juillet

[Hello July] It’s raining. And somehow, we’re once again having winter in July. It seems to be a standard these days. And really, I could just write a letter to July. Not unlike the one I would write to that boy I’m in like with, that I’ve been in like with since I first saw […]

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apricots large

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. Most of the fruits have been eaten already. Fresh, torn in halves, with their juices running on our fingers. Really, why mess with perfection? […]

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diana

Bonjour juin

[Hello June] May has been a little crazy. Of the runs in the park slash flight to France slash rosé et mauresque with Anna-Sarah (every single night) slash book writing slash turning my kitchen into a mess to the point of no return slash painting on porcelain plates kind. The sky back home hasn’t been […]

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madeleines

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. I had chocolate lava cakes in the oven. […]

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feta dip

On summer secrets – Feta and lemon dip

This is what happens when it’s summer. Or at least when it feels like it. We swim in the sea, or more accurately, we’re forced by that wave which chose the exact moment we stepped into the water to break into – what feels like – a herd of horses. It’s cold. For a second. […]

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