The very first memory of me in the kitchen was when I was about four years old. I was too small to reach the counter top in order to mix the batter of a heavy Moroccan Ka’ak dough. I remember the frustration of trying to get it right. I somehow adjusted by using a chair as my fancy kitchen island (hurray to an exaggerated imagination). We had this ancient intercom that was considered “super cool” back then, I remember very seriously taking instructions from my mother who was cooking up a storm in the downstairs kitchen. As the years went by, a visit to Crate & Barrel or the local Market became a mission. Suddenly making a simple lasagna meant making friends with my tomatoes, or picking out the zucchinis that chose me. (Yes, vegetables do talk.) I guess you can say the rest is history.. or in this case, the future? Who knows..
P.S. The definition of Madeleine is; a small rich cake.
Madeleine is also the name of my grandmother which I am named after.
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