Chasing rugbrød, part one

We waked, in the two cabins in those happy days, just before the sun came up, when the birds were in their loudest clamor of morning joy. Wrapped each in a blanket, George and I stepped out from our doors, each trying to call the other, and often meeting on the grass between. We ran to the river and plunged in,—oh, how cold it was!—laughed ...

Read More

La tarte tropézienne

There is the sound of the icebergs bumping into each other with every wave, not unlike a distant thunderstorm. There is the forest that I’ve walked through so many times before, now covered in a thick blanket of snow. There are lakrits [liquorice] cookies in the oven. And lights by every window we see. Yes, this is it. Sweden. And really, it’s just as wonderful ...

Read More

Kanelbullar croissants

There was that weekend, many-many months ago. I had told you about the days when blogs were not so editorially perfect and how I miss them; about the two crumpets with raspberry jam that I had had for an early afternoon breakfast; and about how we’d moved the kitchen table by the window and took way too many pictures. Because, you see, my book was ...

Read More

I’ll be left with cinnamon croissants

I guess like all good things, Sundays have to come to an end too. Today was a good Sunday. We went to bed late enough to wake up mid-morning. Crumpets happened. I might have eaten two with homemade raspberry jam from last summer. And we braved the rain – the mostest perfect excuse for a lazy day in – for a trip to the corner ...

Read More

PS. Une brioche avec un peu plus de beurre

[PS. A brioche with a tad more butter] London, sometime in April. I made a brioche. In five minutes; and five days. We woke up early to shape and proof the dough. Well, I did. A couple of hours later, we sat at the table, with our eyes still plein de sommeil [full of sleep]. And we had a slice each. With plenty of strawberry ...

Read More