I have tried for you: Nigella's flourless chocolate brownie.

I have just received a text from my flatmate.
It says: "You make the best f***ing brownies ever. Thanks".
Just like that, out of the blue. Just when I was looking for a way to start this post.
Thank you, Flatmie, thank you big time.

So apparently I have the power to make killer flourless chocolated brownies. I'd like to say I agree on the killer bit, but I can't for the life of me remember what they taste like. I have been on a stupid protein diet for weeks now and chocolate brownies happen to not be on the authorized list. If I try hard though, I can remember the brownies being gooey, melting, rich and sticky. I remember the only way to eat them is eyes closed. I remember they taste better with every day that passes. I remember they are fantastic when just warm from the oven, and equally amazing after a few days in the fridge. I can actually taste them almost, and oh God, do I miss them. These are the Rolls Royce Transformers of brownies, the ones that always win all the votes, even from the most pudding-impervious personalities.

Nigella, the woman who is not afraid to put both her bare hands in the jar, has clearly opened the love market for me. The woman has found the recipe to melt a man's hearts (and a woman's, equally). My friend's husband told her he would marry me, for the brownies. My other friend Lucy said she would dump her boyfriend and marry me, for the brownies. My flatmate would kill for those brownies, and I know I can get my way anytime when bribing him with the said brownies. Actually, there almost always is a batch of them at home, to counter any possibility of domestic aggressiveness from his part. Oh, and they have been offered to appease the spirits of a really angry cleaner, who threatened to dump us. The story doesn't tell if she had the brownies, but fact is, she still is with us. I told you, they melt hearts.

I am gutted to report that these brownies are the easiest thing ever to make - which means I will soon loose my Unique Selling Point, but hey, I am no selfish cook.

The recipe can be found here, together with a million other yummy recipes. As per its name, it requires no flour, which has been replaced by almond powder, making them a sweet, melting, wheat-free pudding. I don't usually make a chocolate sauce with them, the brownies being rich enough on their own, thank you very much!

My personal interpretation to the recipe implies proper French cooking chocolate that I bring back from my trips home, and replacing half of the butter with salted butter. The best chocolate ever is the kraft paper wrapped Chocolat Noir Nestlé Dessert which I have never found in the UK to this day, but Morrissons stocks the traditional green chocolate block from Menier which is excellent. Also, I tend not to add the chopped nuts - although last time I made the brownie, I did put them in and Flatmie showed a great deal of appreciation towards the final product (hence the text earlier). I think I will try adding fudge or hokey-pokey next time... and I will let you know what happens then!

Next time you meet a guy you like, make sure to offer him some of those brownies. Hopefully, he will admit you are the only woman in the world who can make them. And he'll send you a text saying: "You make the best f***ing brownies ever. Will you marry me?".

I have tried for you: the Festival experience.

Yesterday, I came back from a Festival. I came back muddy, and tired, and happy, and tired, and really, really amazed.

I had just been on a 3 day sociological experiment. It was mental.

First, I saw Noah and the Whale perform live, and I fell in love - like I do, pretty much every other day. They were mind-blowing. They deserve a whole post, but it will have to be later.

Because, actually, first I saw a million people, average age 20 I'd say, perform live coolness. Apparently, there were only 55,000 of us there but it did feel like a million, not that I have been exposed to a crowd of a million individuals before, but that's how I had imagined it would be. 55,000 people is A LOT of people. Especially when you need the loo, but that's another post entirely (if I dare, one day. You, who have invented the portaloo, should have been off gardening on that day, or crochet knitting. It was a bad idea. I'm just saying).

So all these people in their early 20s made me feel old at times, and reminded me I was a stranger to their country. There was no such thing as Festivals in France when I was 18 - mind you, I am not that old - but my parents never thought of sending me and 15 of my mates camping on the other side of the country in a giant field where I would be wearing flowers in my hair and short short jean shorts, smoking all sorts of cigarettes and drinking cider from Carling paper cups. I would have loved it, I swear, if only I had been 5% as cool then as they all looked to me this week end.

On Sunday evening, we had this discussion with my friends about that one girl - 18 probably - who was coolness embodied. Blonde, curly frizzy hair, golden skin, lagoon blue eyes, looking like a refreshing 80's rock star. She seemed magnetic, even we couldn't take our eyes off her, watching the ballet of her (no less good looking) friends rolling around her. And then we wondered, how did that happen? When did those kids become so cool? We haven't quite had the same youth, have we?

It appears to me that this Festival was a lot about coolness, and a bit about music too. All the articles I had read in the magazines about Festival outfits suddenly made sense. That was it, I was there, I was part of it... (only 8 years too late). I made good use of my Hunter wellies, my worn out jeans, my festival hat and crazy sunglasses, I looked the part: I pretended I was one of them, and no one pointed out I was a fraud - so maybe I wasn't. I had an awesome time, but I kept wondering: what would it be like, if I was 18? How different? As well as trying Festival last week end, without a doubt I also tried envy.

I spent 3 whole days studying my little models and I loved it. I loved the fashion awareness, the daring color combos - free adaptations from the Jack Wills and Abercrombie catalogues, I loved the boys' hair dos and their stripy long sleeve t-shirts, the uniformity (conformity?!) of the outfits that made them look like they belonged together, I absolutely loved the "I don't care what I look like right now, because I know I look good" spirit. Being careless (in appearance) looked refreshing, but it can't believe is wasn't exhausting.

It was all new to me, very confusing but exhilarating. I want to be there again, but I am not sure if I can cope. And the camping, God no, please, I certainly cannot do that anymore (did I mention I manage to not camp during that Festival? All 3 night of it, sleeping in my own bed. Privileges of being an islander).

Pink was absolutely amazing, by the way. But she had no flowers in her hair, and I bet she was thinking too: how much fun would I have right now, if I was 18 and one of them?

First post ever: I have tried for you... Blogging.

Hum. Here we go. First time ever.
I have been thinking about it for weeks. Months. Maybe years. I have wondered, and wondered again, whether I could do it, stick to it, make it fun and worthy. And then I just thought, oh flute, let's give it a try.
Hum, so here we go, first time ever I am blogging.

Today, I have tried for you: blogging.
It feels a little bit like getting undressed at the doctor's, to be fair. It is quite uncomfortable, but I guess you get used to it, or not. I shall see. Also I have this weird sense of deja vu, the same tension as I had once, years ago, sitting in a shrink's waiting room, the pangs of anticipation in my tummy, without the box of kleenex on the side of the armchair and the old Elle magazine on the coffee table. Will I live up to the expectations? Will there even be expectations? If I am that lucky, I'll try not to disappoint.

I have got all those topics in my head, all those posts about the million things the team and I have tested over the last years, perfect marketing preys that we are. I did forget to write a tiny little word here: all those "English" bits and bobs we have tested. Cause you see, the team and I are French, and we do things a lot differently at home - so we like to think anyway.

I don't know if I will ever get to try blogging in French for you, but I think blogging in English could be good, cool even, if I can ever achieve that.