pandoro french toast with lemon rosemary butter and blood orange butter

What's a girl to do with all her spare time once she has mastered the art of international law and has come rolling out of her semester-long tussle with international economics looking like a homeless person, but none the worse for wear? She cooks elaborate things, that what she does.



Blood Orange Butter
1 cup butter
juice of 1 1/2 blood oranges
zest of 1 1/2 blood oranges
2 Tablespoons sugar
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

Lemon Rosemary Butter
1 cup butter
1 cup fresh lemon juice
1 cup sugar
2 sprigs rosemary

French Toast
1 Pandoro loaf
5 eggs
1/2 cup whole milk
1/2 cup heavy cream

Put 1 cup of butter in an electric mixer. Whip until fluffy. Add 2 T. sugar and 1/2teaspoon cinnamon, and the juice and zest of the blood oranges. Whip until ingredients are all combined and butter is pink. Form into a ball, wrap in wax paper and chill in the refrigerator until ready to use.

In a small saucepan, combine 1 cup of sugar and 1 cup of lemon juice. Bring to a boil, then add the rosemary sprigs. Simmer for 2 minutes, then turn the heat off. Let cool completely (about an hour). In an electric mixer, whip 1 cup of butter until fluffy. Add 4 Tablespoons of the lemon rosemary syrup and whip until combined. Form into a ball, wrap in wax paper and chill in the refrigerator until ready to use. (Leftover syrup can be used as the base for some delicious drinks!)

Cut the Pandoro bread in thick slices. In a bowl, whisk together the eggs, millk, and cream. Heat a skillet over medium heat and melt a teaspoon of butter to prevent sticking. When the skillet is hot, dip the Pandoro slices in the egg mixture and place in skillet. Cook for about 2-3 minutes on each side, or until a golden brown.

photo via frolic.
recipe via Elizabeth Fuss

Drømmer du om mig?

Cheesy Danish pop via Johnny Deluxe.
The first person to pick out the American pop culture reference in these lyrics...
gets one "you made it through the semester" cocktail. compliments of the girl who kicked some serious ass this semester, and couldn't be happier that its over.

vi ses, smuk.

An American in Thailand

My dear friend Jimmy, who is studying abroad in New Zealand this year, has just returned home from a solo-trek across Thailand. The photos of his journey have been haunting me, so I decided to ask him a few quesions about his jaunt into the wild unknown of Southeast Asia.

What was the most heart-stoppingly beautiful moment you experienced in Thailand?

"I was standing on this white sand beach on the island of Koh Samui with miles of green water stretching out in front of me, the outline of mountains in the distance. Like a perfect scene in a movie, a single guy on an old wooden fishing barge floated past, across the panorama of it all. I didn't have my camera, but I'll always remember that moment."

The most ridiculously frustrating or hilarious moment?

"I've never once been able to avoid getting ripped off in foreign countries. Maybe it's the baby blue eyes and blond hair. This time I was determined, and I rarely put up with it from the cab drivers. But a few days before I left, I met my match. A taxi driver taking me across Bangkok from Sukhumvit in the New City to a tailor in the old city turned off his meter half way through the journey and charged me 700 Baht (about 17 US Dollars) to take me back to my hotel. I was so furious for some reason... I knew I'd been gotten again."


The tuk tuk driver who screwed me over. ^^

What was the tastiest thing you ate?

"I wish I could write a long descriptive poem of food exploits - a few of which I did have - but my favorite thing the whole trip was this non-fat yogurt with lychees in it that I bought at a supermarket called Tesco Lotus. I wish I remembered the brand."

Did you have an encounter with a person while you were on the road that really stuck with you?

"I bought a pair of copper statues from this woman at a goldsmith in Chiang Mai. We got to talking about my travels and after a few moments she got really quiet and said, "I would like to travel someday." It must have been programming, but I imagined she must have wanted to go to Europe or America, so I asked where she dreams of visiting. "Tibet," she said. It really stuck with me for some reason. I hope she gets there."

The Grand Palace Temple:






Bangkok:







You can visit Jimmy's fabulous design blog at the interior mind

everybody has a secret.

.

via post secret

this is well worth the amount of time it takes to load up.

1001 rules for my unborn son

Walker Lamond "gets some things straight before he gets old and uncool" in this witty and heart-warming blog/book 1001 rules for my unborn son.

Some of my favorites:

402. If you aren't hungry enough to eat an apple, you aren't hungry.

395. Be mindful of what comes in between you and the earth. Buy good tires, good sheets, and good shoes.

386. Ask your mom to play. She won't let you win.

380. When I tell you to stay in the car, stay in the car.

391. In her dad's eyes, until you marry her, you're not in the picture.

happy friday

mara hoffman leggings

these knit wool stirrup leggings are darling. But Mara, girl, COME ON. Are these things made out of gold? When does your line for college students on a budget make its debut? I'm waaaaiiiting...and NOT very patiently.

via for me for you

france, meet sweden

oh hello, count fursen.
i'm feeling rather flushed...



Such a shame that this scene was historically inaccurate and completely fabricated. Their affair was only speculated and, unfortunately for Marie, pretty unlikely.

If you have yet to delve into the world of Sophia Coppolla, her films come highly recommended. Kirsten Dunst is a doll...and she's obviously Sophia's muse.

Check out Marie Antoinette or The Virgin Suicides.
je les aime.

aujourd'hui j'aime...

magical thinking.


solitary observation.


italian men...on bikes.


winter revelry.


a stage moment with mette.


quiet moments and pretty lights.


a lack of subtlety.

images via the sartorialist, ffffound, and print society

anti-fashion shoot

these puritan photographs by tamara muth-king are haunting.
you can view the rest of this amazing shoot here
via black eiffel

La Chanson du Dimanche

These bearded, French hooligans make up a new song every Sunday.
Je l'adore.

An ode to the frequent strikes in Paris:

i'm itching for an adventure...

...and a really awkward dance party.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Next Time
By Mary Oliver

Next time what I'd do is look at
the earth before saying anything. I'd stop
just before going into a house
and be an emperor for a minute
and listen better to the wind
or to the air being still.

When anyone talked to me, whether
blame or praise or just passing time,
I'd watch the face, how the mouth
has to work, and see any strain, any
sign of what lifted the voice.

And for all, I'd know more -- the earth
bracing itself and soaring, the air
finding every leaf and feather over
forest and water, and for every person
the body glowing inside the clothes
like a light.

I distincly remember feeling suffocated by sadness on this day,
one year ago.
Life comes full circle today.
Wishing you all a peaceful and tasty Thanksgiving!
I hope your body is glowing inside your clothes like a light.
Mine is.

red tights and peacock prints

Obsessing over these looks at Nadinoo.

Holiday fashion aspirations:
1. pull off a pair of red tights.
2. acquire something peacock printed.
3. Do it all while still looking graceful.

Comme ceci:


Let the games begin!
via Greedy Girl

chicken nugget

...I am coming for you!


At long last, a week for family, old (best) friends, feasting, and relaxing. Can you hear my sigh of relief?

copenhagen street style

that blazer.

that scarf.


that crimson over those black and white stripes.


those tights. that bun! that scarf is so quintiscentially copenhagen. and she is only 15!


because i miss boys who don't wear cargo shorts and flip-flops in november.



via copenhagen street style
tusind tak to A CUP OF JO

My Parents Were Awesome

My Parents Were Awesome is a website where people can upload pictures of their parents from back in the day. I'll have to rummage around the next time I'm home. My mom could slink into a pair of bell bottoms like it was nobodies business and my dad had Michael Kelso hair. What a sexy couple;)






via A CUP OF JO

Mane Muse: Stine Bramsen

Can't get ENOUGH of these darling, Danish songbirds. I play with the idea of this pixie-cut for weeks every time I'm anticipating a haircut. But once I'm sitting in that salon chair, I never lose more than a couple inches. Someday...

Happy Snowy Sunday

Lines for Winter by Mark Strand
Tell yourself
as it gets cold and gray falls from the air
that you will go on
walking, hearing
the same tune no matter where
you find yourself --
inside the dome of dark
or under the cracking white
of the moon's gaze in a valley of snow.
Tonight as it gets cold
tell yourself
what you know which is nothing
but the tune your bones play
as you keep going. And you will be able
for once to lie down under the small fire
of winter stars.
And if it happens that you cannot
go on or turn back and you find yourself
where you will be at the end,
tell yourself
in that final flowing of cold through your limbs
that you love what you are.

image via weheartit

aujourd'hui j'aime...

hygge = cozy


nest eggs.


socked feet.


skin to sheets.


tiny nooks.


foam mustaches.


secret hideaways.


slouchy sweaters.

via weheartit

peace.

Is there anything better than receiving a handwritten letter? I think the best way I've heard it described most recently is that it just "makes you feel all sparkley for the rest of the day."

I can't tell you how many times I have been complimented on my pretty notebooks and my pretty handwriting by people who take notes on laptops and text compulsively under their desks. There is nothing personal about a text; in fact, I think our generation has reached a pretty frightening threshold at which basic thought isn't even required for communication (if you would go so far as to call it communication.) Our thumbs are clicking away independent of our minds, and we push send before we've even thought it through. But when I imagine someone actually taking the time to sit, ponder what they intend to say, sip their wine, coffee, or tea, and write me a letter, well, it just makes me feel sparkley.

To the author of these little treasures which keep finding their way into my mailbox:


via freya @ etsy

aujourd'hui j'aime...

vintage travel posters via ffffound