Just before darkness takes over and hides all light, there is that hour of magic, where twilight rules in my kitchen, this is when I prepare for the next day.
And sometimes that preparing includes food.
I seat myself by the kitchen window, that spot the sun gently kisses in the morning and that now, just before day becomes night, is engulfed in melancholy.
In this quiet hour I write down tomorrows to-do lists, go over what I had on the list for today, and when I’m lucky, prepare food for the next day.
Everything is so quiet.
I love this process of mixing the ingredients, the mist of flour as I pour it in, the subtle perfume of raw and dry becoming moist and swelling underneath the old linen cloth, before being popped in the oven to really become bread, the delicious kind;)
This melancholia and very magical hour of twilight is my favorite time in the garden as well.
Last summer I walked around barefoot on grass dressed in dew and took these a bit blurred shots. My beloved mother has created such a beautiful little garden to rest and rejuvenate in.
It practically smells warm yellow;)
This recipe asked for butter, but normally I avoid it as it tastes just as good without.
This breakfast bread is actually made from a bread mix I was asked to test out for a client, so if the bread you’re making from the recipe I’ll give you next turns out a bit different it’s because it is different:)
But equally delicious!
Like tucking in one of my nieces or nephew at night, the bread needs a little love.
I always cover my baked goods for rising in linen towels.
Like this cute blue and white one bought in Sweden from an estate sale.
It even has the initials embroided on it.
I love that touch of history.
She knows when each flower blooms and has timed it so there is never a clash of colors or perfume.
It’s organized enough to be very pleasing to the eye, yet enough organic chaos to make it look like all this beauty is natures work alone;)
In fact pretty much the same philosophy she uses in her interior design.
Luckily this is not the end, this is merely a beginning for wonderful seasons to come, and delicious breakfast bread preparing underneath that linen towel.
You probably want the recipe by now, but I hope you’ll forgive me if we include that in my next post, this post is already becoming too long, and if you want really good bread, it involves a bit of patience and waiting.
So take a little stroll in the garden, curl up before dark in the above chair and before you know it the smell of freshly baked bread will soon arise from the kitchen and I’ll call you over.
See you soon!