engleză
What are mornings? Bleary-eyed, you pull on your clothes, gulp down something instant, and rush out the door for your first meeting. A typical scene of rushed weekday automation. To me, there is so much more to those first few hours. Baking and breakfast is, and has been for a long time, my meditation. I find no better way to celebrate the first whisper of light than with something simple and homemade, be it a slice of cake or some ace French toast. This book's title is indeed a tribute to the building blocks of my mainstay morning routine, but more importantly it commemorates the detail of everyday life. Detail. Crumbs are left of field, bits of a broken loaf, like the sacred moments we tend to brush aside. This book is an offering to those moments. It's true, not all of us have hours to labour over a single pastry just to savour with the following morning's sunlight, and not everyone is a morning person. Therefore, these recipes are designed not to take up much of your time at all, but will let you step back and savour any of those in-between pockets of time, be it in the morning, afternoon, or after work. Why lust after the weekend when you can indulge in the forgotten fun of Everyday? Over the years, I've found priceless solace in the honest measurements of flour, butter and sugar, of which you can combine in precise ratios to make simple works of art. As a science student, I thrive on experimenting with little twists on classic recipes, intrigued by how each little component makes the big picture tick. I have modified many a recipe, most of which I either found online, or from my mother's bookshelves dedicated to cooking. Here you will find a treasured collection of both old favourites, and the revised results of many of my creative kitchen experiments. I hope this collection will ignite the same clarity of mind, experimental fun and childlike wonder in you as it does in me. Every moment of every day is meant to be savoured. I am so excited to share my mornings with you. Stop reacting, start creating.
