Berlin Reified | Food, design and life in Berlin

Late January light

That late January light bouncing off the walls.

Spring bouquet on a snowy day

Now the silver sky is full of snow I'm especially glad to have this photo of Tuesday's golden light.

Saturday sun

Doesn't this light make all the difference? Even this plain corner of our bedroom is lovely. Could you believe it when the sky went all pink and blue at half past four yesterday? My brain feels like those kernels of grain exhumed from an Egyptian tomb, sprouting after millennia: I am full of schemes for trips and travel.

Rosemary sprigs

Easing my way back into language, into the new year, into light. A rosemary and white bean soup is simmering in the kitchen, and slowly the cold flat warms and fills with fragrance. I always mean to tell you when I'll be away but I never do.

Twilight in Berlin

Just my favorite cafe at dusk and Berlin -- still -- so utterly itself. Sometimes life is so perfect it leaves me close to tears.

Chard, Life

Life has been like this photo: out-of-focus, full of color. I've been spending a lot of time on the playground, watching S explore the sand, pull herself up to standing against the wooden posts, go racing across the little bridge, her bottom waggling in the most adorable crawl you can imagine. In the evenings, if I'm lucky, I make a sour cherry and apricot cobbler, or steam a few ears of sweet corn, or braise chard and onions until they melt and meld into a tangy puree. Other nights I'm in bed by nine. Before I close my eyes I stop to shiver at the days contracting. Have you noticed the autumnal slant to the light?

Brambles for a baby

I bought these tiny blackberries at the Kollwitzplatz market yesterday, and S has been devouring them: just the size for petite baby fingers.

Before & After (Birthday treats)

Note the care with which David has placed the fruit, and the gusto with which S is reaching for yet another wodge. Yesterday was an excellent birthday.

The longest day of the year

Since the winter when David read Gatsby aloud to me, chapter by chapter, I have resolved not to miss the summer solstice. (You remember it too? She looked at us all radiantly. “Do you always watch for the longest day of the year and then miss it? I always watch for the longest day in the year and then miss it.” “We ought to plan something,” yawned Miss Baker, sitting down at the table as if she were getting into bed.)

And so we had a picnic today and sat in Weinbergspark listening to a goofy Depeche Mode cover band and eating strawberry tart, amongst other things. My crème patisserie more closely resembled crème anglaise, which was a disappointment, but never mind, the leftover sauce was delicious spooned over a slice of toasted pain au lait: deconstructed French toast, the perfect bedtime snack.

After the grapes

The tiniest of trees, I couldn't resist this spindly stem, the few small grapes still hanging on. Summer just might be beginning: the courtyard is full of small breezes and a golden light.