Snow can fool us into believe winter is here. When really it’s not.

And even after it came and went, the sharp winds still  gives us goosebumps no matter how many layers of mittens, hats and scarves we’re wearing.

I’ve found a relief in the shape of a hot bowl of soup.

Slightly spicy, full of flavour, and damn good.

So good in fact, that I’ve made it four times in just a short eight days. Just when the sun goes down, my flat starts to smell of ginger and lemongrass.

Evidently, it’s always too dark to take a picture. But, who needs it anyway. You have my promise.

Make this – or as a matter of fact, any of the listed things below (which I see as a winter edition of my culinary obsessions chronicle). And feel better. Warmer. And possibly, happier.

Oh and while I’m at it, I’m wondering what are the foods that help you make it through winter? Please tell me. We can never have enough comfort in our kitchens.

And for the record, I realise it’s technically still autumn, but my frozen cheeks tell me it feels like winter. Hope you stick with me on this one.

One. Thai chicken soup. Grab a couple of chicken thighs, with all the trimmings: bone, skin and organic. Pan fry the chicken, skin-side down until golden, flip around and deglaze with a litre of water and a mini-can of coconut cream.
Add two spoonful of sweet chilli sauce, a dash of toasted sesame oil, and soy sauce. Squeeze the juice from one lemon, and bring to the boil. In the meantime, roughly chop the soft end of a lemongrass stick and grate a fat piece of ginger. Add o the soup. Simmer for 20 minutes. Remove the chicken thighs; then using two forks, shred the meat from the bones and skin. Place back into the pan and add a handful of each: frozen peas, rocket, and rice noodles. Divide in between two bowls, and top with chopped red chilli peppers, two sliced spring onions and fresh coriander. Eat with a spoon when still piping hot. Preferably with good company and a movie.

Two. Eggnog lattes. Be lazy and go to the closest starbucks. Order a venti eggnog latte. And burn your tongue while drinking it. Or make it at home. Bring 250g of milk to the boil along with 2 cinnamon sticks, a couple of cardamom pods and a little grated nutmeg. Add a dash of vanilla extract, the one with the seeds. In a bowl, mix 2 eggs yolks with 50g of caster sugar. Strain the boiling milk onto the eggs, mixing as you do so. Then place the bowl over a pan of simmering water and cook, stiring all the time until the anglaise reaches 84°C. Add a double shot of espresso or a heaped teaspoon of your favourite instant coffee. Drink. From the comfort of your own home. And perhaps, with a dash or two of rhum.

Three. Roast garlic. Preheat the oven to 200°C. Line a baking tray with foil. Take four heads of garlic and chop their top off by a centimetre or two. Place on the prepared baking tray. Drizzle with oil and season with Maldon sea salt. Cover loosely with foil and bake for 40 minutes. Make sure you have some bread close by.

Four. Gü chocolate banoffee. Walk to your kitchen. Open the fridge and reach the black Gü chocolate banoffee package. Open with your hands. Grab a spoon, preferably small. Lift the foild cover away. Eat the chocolate layer first. Then sink your spoon into the goo. And wonder if they’re is anything sweeter – literally and figuratively – in this world. Don’t even think about having the second one.

Five. Molly’s waffles. Before you go to bed, visit Molly. Read her words. Fell in love and in hunger. Then make the recipe. The first one, Marion Cunningham’s raised waffles. Except, switch the dry yeast for 5g of fresh yeast. Because your heart tells you to. Sleep. Wake up half and hour before your alarm goes off. Cook the waffles. And eat plain, thinking about sending Molly a thank you note later.

Thank you Molly. x

Today I have a little contextual-behaviour exercise for you. Nothing overly difficult, but you’ll definitely end up with a positive knowledge on human actions and needs-related brains-alteration mechanisms.

So please, keep your pens and paper sheets on the table, and drop your bags near the exit door.

You have exactly one hour to complete the exercise. After the time is up, turn in your copies at the desk.

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1. Context
Take one upbeat, passionate, and somewhat stubborn (not to mention adorable) person; namely: Fanny, me. Place her into a pâtisserie laboratoire for a year.

2. Assignment
Observe and document her behaviour.

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Okay, it was mean to trick you into this whole exercise thing. I know how stressful exam conditions can be (by the way, I passed my CAP pâtisserie, yeah!). I just meant to make a – terribly not funny –

joke (but, hey, I haven’t changed that much over the year).

Now is time for me to be honest and reveal what actually happened during those past twelve months (some events shall be kept secrets forever though due to their random, obnoxious or simply boring characteristics; other had to just because of the inexistence of photographic proof).

I passed my CAP – I know I lamely ruined the effet de surprise a couple of paragraphs above – , but well, I was TOO excited not to tell you (be glad I waited one hundred and twenty two words to disclose the news).

I got covered in more chocolate mousse, praliné, guimauve… than I thought was even possible.

I called Lenôtre my cantine.

I got the sweetest acorn – fake – tattoo ever.

I made a good million of tarts. Not to mention fraisiers. (or as a matter of fact, pretty much every entremet the boutique sells). And yet, I’m still in love with Pascal’s pâtisserie.

I met a strange snorkeler.

I drank way too many diabolo kiwi [kiwifruit syrup, plus lemonade], to cure hangovers.

I stumbled upon the coolest girl (and she blogs too) in the entire world while I was busy being an Amerindian. In case you’re wondering, pink is our favourite colour.

Oh and here it comes…

I forgot I had a foodblog.

Period. Double period.

And it made me sad. Because the business of life set aside, the other reason behind the one-post-a-month phenomenon is that I just felt like what I made wasn’t good enough. Happily a snorkelling passerby managed to make me love foodbeam again.

Oh and here it comes…

Happy fourth birthday foodbeam.

No period. No double period.

I’ll be back here soon. With the glamourous, the delicious, and the random. Heart you. xx

Apricots… What to say about apricots?
A golden velvety skin.
A sweet tender flesh.
Really you must love them!

I’m lucky to have an apricot tree in the back of my garden and though the tree is really old, it still produces the best apricots one can have. Juicy, sweet and soft… In one word: the perfect apricot.

It seems the combinations are endless. But with apricots i usually prefer to keep it simple.
Bite in a luscious apricot just picked from the tree.
Or cook them into a compote.
Or mix them with ice, as below, to get a fresh summer drink.
Or slice them finely and sprinkle over a goat’s milk faiselle with a drizzle of honey.Today i’d like to discover something new and i am interested in the ways YOU use apricots.
Do you have a favourite recipe using apricots?
I am looking for a sophisticated dessert that highlights the freshness of apricots.
Any suggestion welcomed!

Summer apricot iced drink

This drink embodies the fruit at its purest form. No added sugar, just ice and water.
It is very refreshing, as you may have already guessed.
I love to have this after a hot summer day or even in the morning, for breakfast.