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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