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 ...

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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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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 ...

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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 ...

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Five-minute brioche

When I mentioned the five-minute brioche, I forgot to say it’s more of a five-minute and five-day brioche. Five days where the blossoms turned into snow. Five days where I got less sleep than what a normal night means to you. Five days where everytime I came home, I opened the fridge to imagine that bubbly dough turn into brioche. And then on the night ...

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