Saffransmazariner

[Saffron mazariner] 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 how it felt against our cheeks. There ...

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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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Glad Lucia, a lussekatter history (and recipe)

Traditionally eaten for Santa Lucia on the thirteenth of December, lussekatter – also called lussebullar – have a nebulous history. One that’s laced with Christianity and paganism, German and viking heritage. In fact, even the origin of the Lucia celebrations is quite elusive. [heading_right]Lussi, an evil figure roamed the land along with her lussiferda, a horde of trolls and goblins.[/heading_right] Lussinatta once coincided with the ...

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Kladdkaka du dimanche

[Swedish chocolate cake, of the Sunday kind] Everytime I come around here, a whole season has gone by. There was summer and its endless hours in the kitchen that I now call home. But before we knew it, the time for semester [holidays] came. And went. Two weeks in our stuga [cabin] in the middle of the woods; and I still stand by my words ...

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Our favourite cinnamon shortbreads

It’s still very much winter here in Skellefteå. In fact, we’ve had a blizzard over the weekend; snow, at times twirling around with the winds; and at other times, falling almost horizontally. A western under the snow. Not unlike the Dyonisos album that lullabied my teenage years. Oh love me, Oh kiss me, I’m lying on western under the snow You’re the sky of my ...

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Macarons au chocolat blanc caramélisé et aux noisettes

[Caramelised white chocolate and hazelnut macarons] I’d like to tell you I’ve made macarons today. I had planned to. Really. Last week, we bought mandelmjöl [ground almonds] and florsocker [icing sugar]; mjölkchoklad [milk chocolate] and vispgrädde [whipping cream]. But you see, we’ve been for walks everyday. At times, in the forest. Or by the river. And, always, in the snow. Christmas trees everywhere around us ...

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Cake à la banane rôtie

[Roasted banana cake] I once read that the universe didn’t need another banana cake. In that case, the universe and I might have to disagree. We don’t disagree often though. In fact, most of the time, we’re in a symbiotic agreement that all is in its place. Let me tell you about a few nights ago. It might have been Monday or Tuesday, I don’t ...

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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 ...

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Biscuits croustillants à la cannelle

[Crisp cinnamon biscuits] I don’t want fig leaf or oak bark infusion. I don’t want gimmicks and royal icing where it’s not needed. I want to explore flour, sugar, butter and eggs. Give me cinnamon. And whole wheat flour. Oats. And dark brown sugar. I want to look underneath a biscuit. And see a golden colour. And little ridges. And above all, I want to ...

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Un gâteau aux pommes et au cidre

[A cider and apple cake, not unlike a tatin tart] There was a night made of champagne, flickering candles, crisps and smoked salmon sandwiches, the last of the foie gras smothered onto big fat chunky pieces of baguette, an endless game of trivial pursuit where – as it turned out – the one person who refused to play (my father, apparently stuck to his mots ...

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Éclairs au chocolat

[Chocolate eclairs] 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 we run barefoot in fields of frost. And the grass glows to the moonlight in a way only gems can. With la grande ourse [the great bear] and a feral cat as our only companions for ...

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