Saffransmazariner

[Saffron mazariner] As written on the 19th of December Twelve weeks ago, almost to the second, Sienna was put on my chest; pink as a candy, eyes wide open. Twelve weeks that went quickly, and also, twelves weeks when winter came and went more times that I can count. There was the night we rushed to the maternity; the air suddenly so sharp we’d forgotten ...

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Äppelmos with vanilla and cinnamon

It was a little over a year ago; we’d brought home a mid-century secretary desk, the kind that received many layers of white paint over the years. It had a bookshelf, very much a happy mismatch of cookbooks, jars of kombucha, porcelain figurines, candles and notebooks. And two cupboards. The one of the right had draws made of birch reminiscent of an old map storage ...

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Sunday morning plättar

Last night, we had rökta räkor [smoked prawns] for dinner, with plenty of aioli and sourdough bread, and a bottle of pinot grigio whe’d kept on our veranda to chill. By the time we’d fallen asleep, the clocks had been set backwards and a thin layer of fresh snow had covered the roofs we see through our bedroom windows. Coffee, fleece blanket, and Sunday morning ...

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Apple pie shortbreads

On snow. The first snow didn’t settle onto the ground. That night, the clouds broke into minute snowflakes as we stepped out from the house. And just like I did last year and the year before that, I stopped and stared into this black and white kaleidoscope for what could have been a nightlong, a lifelong really. It’s been snowing every day ever since. Flakes ...

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Confiture de figues

[Fig jam] We stepped off the plane only to be wrapped by the intense heat. With miles of sea ahead of us and the mountain in our backs, it dawned on me: this is home. A home away from home perhaps, but I could feel it, one deep breath of warm air after another; sea mist, tarmac, and gasoline. It had been over two years ...

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