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gianduja

Brown Butter and Hazelnut Chocolate Chunk Cookies

Brown Butter and Hazelnut Chocolate Chunk Cookies

I burn, I shiver; out of the sun, and into this shadow.” – Virginia Woolf, ‘The Waves’

It’s the little things that bring joy. Entanglements of flowers. Cookies wrapped in bows, shared or devoured alone. Details and thoughts that last for longer than just instantaneous pleasure. I’ve always managed to live between two extremes. Living in a catatonic state of violence or softness. And, it took me years to realise how to balance out both the light and dark aspects of my personality. My life was once withered, and now, it’s coated in roses. Kind of like these blooms. More precious the light than the all-consuming darkness. The shadows in these images, the shadows in myself, wear darkness so beautifully. Meant for me, and me alone. The suffocating entanglement of wild, so beautiful, so abandoned, so delicate. Choking everything that comes close. Strangulations of floral, ivy, vines and opalescent blossoms. Each strand, competing for breath. Intimately engulfed within each other. Both beauty and ugliness, light and darkness, existing in all aspects of life.

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Chocolate Hazelnut Cake with Gianduja Praline Swiss Meringue Buttercream

Chocolate Hazelnut Cake with Gianduja Praline Swiss Meringue ButtercreamChocolate Hazelnut Cake with Gianduja Praline Swiss Meringue Buttercream

I was a winged obsessive, my moonlit feathers were paper. I lived hardly at all among men and women; I spoke only to angels. How fortunate my days, how charged and meaningful the nights’ continuous silence and opacity.” – Louise Glück, from “Ancient Text”

This years birthday cake. Twenty-one! The truth, I don’t usually celebrate. Call it elitist or detached (or both), but rejoicing age, another year older, has never been something I yearned for. I blame my love for American Beauty on the sort-of self-deprecating ideals that stem. The kind of societal ideals that entail certain life’s milestones to be reached within the perimeters of a new age. A kind of pursuit in identity and self-obsession, that always set my warped line amongst the straight. A good cake, that’s the extent I’m willing to go.

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