Breton Custard Cake
It smells like a childhood Sunday afternoon, the kind where
Elegant, rich, and timeless dishes rooted in French tradition.
It smells like a childhood Sunday afternoon, the kind where
I remember the smell first. Nutty, warm cheese melting over
So when I make stuffed peppers, or poivrons farcis if
So the first time you catch the scent of tartiflette
So the other afternoon, with the weather doing that indecisive
It’s always the aroma first – warm olive oil, garlic
It’s that kind of dessert you remember not just for
When it’s rainy and the sky turns that soft, worn-out
The smell alone tugs you in before you even peek
This gratin de poireaux au jambon, honestly, every time I