Going to baking class is a little bit like going to the theater. There's this incredible dynamic between the teachers at the campus and all of them have mastered the art of banter. I don't know how to explain it, but it can be quite hilarious.

[...]

Some people just can't get enough of crème patissière. Thomas is one of them and I've seen some of my friends eat it by the spoonful. Me? Not so much. I can really enjoy one or two spoons, but I quickly turn from "mmm, this is delicious" to "pff, I've had enough." This is why I don't get excited about éclairs the way other people do. Petits choux, yes; éclairs, no. It's a difficult balance.

It's simple. If it's your birthday, you get to choose the dessert. Go ahead, you can choose whatever you want.

In my house, choosing whatever you want has mostly come down to choosing one of my mom's three signature desserts. Not that there aren't any more options...these are just the most popular ones [...]

Sometimes my mind just shuts down. It spits and sputters and suddenly I'm incapable of making even the most menial of decisions. I don't know what to make for dinner, can't think of a proper response to an email and sure as hell can't come up with anything creative. Whatever I do, I draw a blank. 

We've been through this, you and I. We know the drill. You throw things at me; I hustle and try not to drop anything. Things like birthday cakes and garden parties and get-togethers and assignments and travel plans. Fun things. Exciting things.

There was always something extra. At the end of the meal, when dessert plates had been licked clean and the mugs of tea were no longer steaming, a little bag would invariably find its way to the table. The crinkle and crackle of the plastic alone attracted enough attention to draw everyone to the kitchen [...]

I made 20 Galettes des Rois last weekend and forgot to put a bean in 16 of them. I went down to the cellar, but had no idea what I was looking for. I returned a bunch of empty bottles, and then forgot to ask for my refund at the register. I went to bed, and upon waking found that I'd forgotten to take out my contacts.

Several years ago, I got stopped at airport security. "Where are you traveling to?", the security lady asked me. "Florence", I told her. "Are you traveling alone?" I answered that I was. "How old are you?" I told her my age. While she was obviously trying to conceal it, I saw the lady glance at her colleague and chuckle. [...]

I wake up in darkness. The cold September air enters through cracks and open windows, emptying the house of the smells and worries of the night before. I wrap myself in a blanket and cling to my coffee cup just a little more than usual, trying to absorb its warmth by way of touch, smell and taste. The windows are black; reflective canvases impossible to penetrate. There really is no sense in staring outside, but I do it anyway.

Das Zwischen.

I think this was one of the first architectural concepts our professor taught us. Das Zwischen - the in-between - the transitional space between two spaces - neither one, nor the other. Ever since I learned about the concept 12 years ago and even as I ventured away from straight up architecture, Das Zwischen has stuck with me. Partly because I love saying it, strongly emphasizing the 'ts' sound of the German 'Z'; but mostly because its undefined nature intrigues and soothes me [...]

I've been struggling to find the words with which to start this post. I wanted to say something about Valentine's Day, but everything I wrote ended up sounding cynical. It's just ... I've been watching this parade of heart-shaped cookies, rose petals and pink frosting on the Internet and all I could think was: "Is this the best we can do?" [...]

It was my mother's birthday last week. The woman who gave me wide hips and an imperfect nose, but also, and much more importantly, a curiosity about life and an eagerness to learn. The woman who endured my teenage years and expressed her frustrations mostly in French curses. The woman who taught me how to make pancakes and meringues, who showed me how to separate eggs and carefully fold in egg whites, who introduced me to beurre noisette and other wonderful flavors. The woman who's baked me at least 30 birthday cakes and even more for my brothers [...]

Do you ever wake up to a house that smells a little off? Maybe you forgot to take out the trash, or you left something out of the fridge for too long. Maybe you just had a crazy party last night... (I hope you had a crazy party last night.)

[...]

I have some sad news.

We had our final, proper, baking class of the year this week. Only a company visit and an exam are left on the agenda. After that, we'll be left to our own devices for a couple of months. Lucky that I already have some exciting baking plans lined up for the summer.

[...]

This week, baking class was all about tiny cakes with tasty extras. How do you feel about apples? We can soak them in a little bit of dark rum first, if you want to. Or do I need to bring out the chocolate to seduce you? Easy. Concerned about your health/diet? We can always go the wholewheat route... You'll just have to ignore the huge amount of butter involved in making these wholewheat cakes.

You know what? Let's just go with my personal favorite of the pack: the fluffy, nutty almond Génoise mini-cake.

[...]

Sometimes I forget how rewarding it all can be. Standing in a cold and gloomy kitchen, trying to figure out what to do with the bags of produce we've received from our farmers, wondering how to prep some unknown vegetable, struggling with sticky dough or trying to make a dent in the piles of dirty dishes ... it can seem like too much. Too big of a challenge. Too high a hurdle.

The start of summer is a special kind of time. No matter what the weather is like, when the month of June comes to a close, a certain atmosphere starts to permeate our minds, our bodies, our houses, our streets, our cities. Everyone is elated. Everything seems possible.

Remember that time last year when I made lemon poppy seed shortbread and wrote this long, confusing post about triangles and tangrams and things falling into place? Well, it's happened. Things have fallen into place, and I can finally tell you what it was all about.

To say that Christmas and I haven't always gotten along is an understatement. I've had some of my worst experiences in life around Christmas time. But this year, I'm feeling mighty blessed. I've gotten new opportunities to learn, have seen things fall into place, and have become the proud godmother of the most darling baby boy. I'm still not gonna deck the halls with boughs of holly - that just isn't my style -, but I will admit that this is a particularly wonderful time of year. [...]

Finally! After months of thinking and tinkering, I am so happy to introduce you to the new blog design. It's clean and minimal and I am absolutely in love with it.

For such a long time, I felt unhappy with the way les filles de madeleine looked. When I decided to truly invest in this blog at the beginning of the year and make it my own again, I knew I needed to make some big changes. [...]

triangles are my favorite shape. three points where two lines meet (alt-j . tessellate)

One of my favorite games as a kid was tangram, a Chinese puzzle consisting of 7 geometric shapes - 5 triangles in 3 different sizes, a square and a parallelogram. The objective of the puzzle is to make all kinds of different shapes - people, animals, buildings - using those same 7 pieces. While it seems fairly simple, tangram is actually quite complex [...]

It's been a year since I posted a photograph of a little business card reading "To Begin, Begin." A year since my first post.

It hardly feels like a year, and yet it feels like forever ago. As I said a couple of weeks ago, those early posts just seem so far removed from what I'm doing now and where I want this blog to go. It's not even that I wasn't prepared when I started this thing ... I was. But I guess I just wasn't as intentional about it as I am now [...]

I took the train down to Amsterdam last weekend. It felt strange.

Amsterdam and I haven't always gotten along. I lived there for a year, studied there for two and worked there for four. During that time, I managed to build up a fair amount of resentment towards the city. I was 23 when I moved to Amsterdam and already, I felt too old for a city that seemed to live in a fast pace and in technicolor [...]

Lately, I've been spamming my family with photographs of all the sweet things I bake. I've sent them pictures of braided bread, of croissants, of cookies and of apple turnovers, but they haven't yet had the chance to try any of it. Time to make them some surprise treats!

Last week, out of the blue, my brother sent me an email ... a short, simple note saying that he really liked where this blog was going. A few days later, Ingrid from Let's Talk Evergreen started a conversation about originality, inspiration and honesty. Her post was mainly about blogging inspirations and giving credit where credit is due, but it was something she said in the comments that really resonated with me [...]

Just like that, it's the end of September again. For all the time I've spent outside these past few months - sitting in the garden, hiding in the woods, rummaging through my parents' overgrown vegetable patch - I've been strangely oblivious to the changing of the seasons. The last thing that really registered with me was coming home to plum and fig trees filled with ripe fruit at the end of June. 

It must've been around 5 pm when we arrived. Nicole's house was located on the edge of the Fôret d'Ermenonville, in one of those tiny little French villages that consists of little more than a dozen grey-walled houses lined along a single street, and the last few kilometers, even after a full day of cycling, had been pure bliss. [...]

Thomas and I went walking through Bruges this weekend. The sun was out, the sky was blue and the air was frosty ... the perfect day for wandering feet and a meandering mind. One that couldn't help but wonder how this came to be my city, and if it would ever really feel that way.

In the summer of 2007, I took my brand new orange backpack to the airport and boarded a plane to New York. I was beyond excited. Nervous, too, because this would be a trip of many firsts. My first time making such a long journey by myself, my first time traveling with a group of strangers, my first road trip through the US, my first time camping.

"Diane, if you ever get up this way, that cherry pie is worth a stop."

These past couple of weeks, Thomas and I have been watching old episodes of Twin Peaks. There is something so soothing about re-watching TV shows. It makes me feel safe. Warm, even. I may have trouble watching the same movie twice, but I certainly don't mind sitting through entire series of a variety of TV shows again and again.

She drinks tea like I drink water.

For as long as I can remember, my mother's presence and activities in the house have been marked by the location of her tea pot. She used to carry it around on a worn-down wooden serving tray that bore traces of green and orange paint and was filled with tea lights and other trinkets. In between the candy wrappers and the used matches you'd find tiny notepads, pens, paper scraps, coins, toothpicks and, if you were lucky, a small piece of chocolate [...]

I know I've pushed myself too far when I find myself shouting at Thomas for no particular reason and then break down in tears, also, for no particular reason. I should probably have noticed by the laundry piling up, the angry mumbling at cars that are blocking the bike lane and my inability to write anything decent, but then again, I never do [...]

I loved setting the table for Easter breakfast when I was a kid. I got to use a bright tablecloth, yellow napkins and fresh flowers. I got to search the dining room cupboard for candles shaped like eggs and baby chickens and I got to put wine glasses on the table. For us! [...]

When I decided to post my mother's lemon tart as the next of my family recipes, I realized that I didn't really have a story to tell about it. My love for citrus is a pretty recent thing and until a couple of years ago, I used to steer clear of this tart altogether. So I decided to ask my mother for her story [...]

We all have our comfort zone. A position in which we feel both at ease and at our best. Mine is at the sidelines, looking in. I observe. I consider the details, take a step back to get the bigger picture, then focus on the details again. I analyze. I draw lines, see connections, fill in the blanks, write down my conclusions. I don't usually interact with what is going on, nor do I feel the need to voice my conclusions out loud. The written word is my safeguard [...]

I've been trying to find a new rhythm.

About four weeks ago, I started a new job. After so many years of working from home, I now find myself sitting in an office with a bunch of other people, 11 km away from home. It's good, of course. I get to accomplish things... finish them, even. I get to ride my bike to work. I get to meet new friends. In some ways, it's perfect [...]

I know we've already passed Easter, but do me a favor and think back to New Year's Eve for a second.

Did you drink champagne? Eat good food? Dance? Did you spend it with family? Friends? Both?

That last part is always a bit tricky. You can't be everywhere at once, right? This is why, almost ten years ago, my college friends and I started the tradition of a "Second New Year's." We find a date that suits everybody and get together for an ersatz new year's eve celebration. We dress up, we drink champagne, we exchange gifts and we count down. The whole shebang.

[...]

How was your Easter weekend?

Had enough chocolate yet?

When I started thinking about a dessert for Easter with Thomas's family, the abundance of chocolate eggs was definitely something to keep in mind. Dark chocolate, milk chocolate, white chocolate and those tiny chocolate eggs filled with popping candy that my friend Bart used to bring us when we were in college... After all of that, even I wouldn't feel the need for any more chocolate.

[...]

Our teacher Danny likes things small. In earlier classes, he's already tried to convince us that a cookie should be small enough to eat in two simple bites. This week, we made tartlets that seem to go by more or less the same standard. Luckily, though, Danny also likes things in large quantities. Ten different kinds of tartlets, twelve of each. A true tartlet extravaganza.

[...]

I'm an explorer. I like to discover new tastes and places, feel most accomplished when I get to the heart of something previously unfamiliar to me and get restless when too much time has passed doing the same thing over and over again. At the same time, though, I'm also a nostalgic [...]

There was this summer, somewhere between heartache and finding myself, that I spent lying in the grass, reading Harper Lee and everything J.D. Salinger has ever written - Franny & Zooey twice. Years before that, I spent the summer months playing baseball with my brothers, singing "Wild Thing" and trying to look just as cool as Charlie Sheen [...]

It was sudden. One day I was lamenting the end of berry season; the next I was blissfully curled up on the couch, wrapped in my favorite blanket, sipping a hot cup of tea as I watched the sky grow dark. Finally, it was here.

My knees trembled as I walked them to the door. I hadn't slept in days, had hardly eaten and had probably not spoken a word during the entire time that they were there. My heart was weeping, but my eyes had no more tears to spare. I felt numb. Drained. Angry. [...]

A couple of weeks ago, my oven died. I came home one evening, turned it on to roast some nuts and heard absolutely nothing. There was no click of the thermostat, no wooshing sound of the oven fan. Nothing. My loud, but trusty oven had fallen silent [...]

I've been thinking about this blog a lot these past few months.

I've been thinking about how it wasn't really what I envisioned. About how, in my first 6 months of blogging, I tried to be too much like other bloggers, all funny and nonchalant. About how the recipes I've shared weren't really my style, nor my own. About how I'd promised to share some of my family recipes, but never seemed to get around to it. About how I wanted to change all that.

From the moment the seasons changed, I started badgering my grocer about blood oranges. January, he said. I was so thrilled about the first blood orange I got my hands on, that I photographed it and put it on Instagram. By now, Instagram is exploding with this beautiful fruit. What is it about blood oranges that gets us all excited?

As I was preparing for this post - my final one in collaboration with MelkMoment - I was sure what it would be about. The bright colors, the blossoms in the photographs and the lightness in my voice ... after what seems like a very long series of moody posts, everything in this one would point to a new beginning. 

I don’t know if it was the three weeks we spent in a country where people live with relatively little means, options are always limited and contact with the outside world is scarce, or the shock of coming back home and immediately being bombarded with information, images, opinions and, perhaps most of all, choices, but it suddenly feels like my life is just a little too crowded.

Our Saturday market is busier than ever. As we walk to the square where it is held, we come across people with bulging bags of produce, bouquets wrapped in kraft paper, delicate little zucchini and tomato plants ready to be put into the nourishing soil of their gardens. The weather isn't perfect, but spring is in the air [...]