Chocolate moments and a tart for the dormouse in the teapot

Growing up, one of my favourite books was about a girl called Flossie Teacake (I sometimes think of changing my name to that) whose life was transformed every time she put on a magic fur coat. The plain girl with glasses became a glamourous eighteen year old who could go out and do anything she wanted. Although it doesn't have quite the same magic powers, my thick winter coat with the fake fur collar around the neck and the blue suede boots everyone seems to love give me even more of the impression that I'm doing someting special when I put them on for my outings in Berlin. Soon though, they will no longer be needed because the days are getting warmer at last. From the open window, sounds of the springtime enter into my room; the chirping of the birds, a moped in the street, voices in the garden below. Normally, I'm not one of those people who feels the cold too much (which explains my trip to Wannsee on one of the iciest days of winter) but last week, I felt an optimism and inspiration which have been missing these past few weeks. I had forgotten the pleasures of going out on mild evenings without a scarf and gloves, of seeing the shadows of the branches on the sunlit walls in the mornings when I leave home and of shopping for summer dresses.

Somehow the dirt and grime are as fascinating to me as the beautiful buildings

Although the buds on the trees remain tightly shut for the moment, I have the feeling they won't be able to resist the spring much longer and can't wait for those colours to come bursting out all of a sudden and take me by surprise as they do every year. I was hoping to give you some brighter images but instead, big, fat raindrops are falling from the sky even as I write which meant I wasn't so keen to go for a long walk today. I stuck to the little streets close to home and walked along Ku'damm where groups of French tourists rushed to shelter in the entrance of the theatre and elegant, old ladies were accompanied by their dogs. I strolled under my umbrella with my camera in my pocket, determined to at least capture something of the warmer days and found most of the springtime contained in the large shop windows packed with daisies, tulips, gerberas and daffodils.

No watering cans needed today

The windows of Habitare on Savignyplatz

The deserted tables of Café Grolman

The window of Bücherbogen, of my favourite bookshops

I also thought back to times when, like Flossie Teacake, I was sent to bed early. Sometimes, I would try to delay this as long as possible by drinking my tea incredibly slowly until my parents finally lost patience. Seeing the daylight above the curtains in my bedroom made me feel I was missing out on life. Downstairs, I could hear my brother playing snooker (we have a small table) and sometimes, my parents would take their dinner into the living room to watch a film. When I was a litle older, I used to secretly watch American TV series in my room late at night with the volume on low, ready to reach for the remote control just in case anybody came upstairs. I never got caught. Ironically, after all that effort, I haven't watched TV for years and love nothing more than going to bed early with a book, knowing that life is not just outsde but also in the words I'm reading which let me travel. I guess things are often less interesting when they're no longer forbidden.

On Ku'damm

The incessant tapping of the rain left me feeling in need of comfort. There are certain places which make you feel at home the moment you walk through the door. The Choko café in Charlottenburg is one of these. I had walked past it many times and thought it looked like a place for me. Early afternoon, shortly after it had opened for the day, I took my place in the little domed alcove looking out onto the street, meeting the glances of many passers-by. Inside, chandeliers hung from the ceiling, there were benches and little stools with plush red cushions, little tables with floral cloths and a large counter full of bars of chocolate, easter eggs and pralines. The board outside advertised hot chocolate with cream which I couldn't resist. I'd read good reviews of the Kalter Hund but today there were just two other cakes on offer, the most delicious of which was the Torte della Nonna with lemons and almonds. The hot chocolate cake came in a large mug with a nice, thick layer of real cream (I don't care how good the chocolate is, for me the effect is always spoiled if it's topped with artificial cream from a squirty can), under which was dark and luxurious sweetness - a drink for grown ups. The torte was also amazingly good, delicate and creamy without being too heavy. Tucked away in the corner, it felt like pure indulgence. I sat there reading Paris by Julian Green, a strange but wonderful book about the city he loved which gives me the feeling of discovering it afresh again.

Inside the Choko café on Bleibtreustraße

Yes, I know that's an indecent amount of cream for one person. Isn't this what Sundays are all about?

The delicious Torte della Nonna - how have I lived without this for so long? I have to make my own soon.

My place at the window - so gemütlich!

Last week, I also finally made it to see Alice in Wonderland. Although the true Alice fan inside me still regrets to see most of the original story disappear and some irritating changes (why is the Dormouse Scottish and female?), it was fun seeing it in 3D and with friends, one of whom always brings chocolate and wonderful homemade peanut butter cookies - a kindred spirit. My favourite part of the book is the Mad Hatter's Tea party and the dormouse's story about the three little girls, Elsie, Lacie and Tillie who live in the bottom of a treacle well. This inspired me to make a long lost favourite pudding of mine, treacle tart which is amazingly simple to make. Served warm with some crème fraîche or a scoop of vanilla ice cream, it's the perfect comfort food.

Treacle tart

For the pastry

1 Sweet tart dough / pâte sucrée pastry case, baked blind, from Dorie Greenspan as used on Smitten Kitchen

For the filling

400g golden syrup (golden syrup is a lighter version of dark treacle, in Berlin you can find it at Karstadt or at the Brot und Butter bakery at Ernst Reuter Platz)

50g treacle/ Zuckerrübensirup (from a Bio shop)

85g fresh breadcrumbs*

zest plus 1tbsp juice of a lemon

* To make fresh breadcrumbs, you need some slice of dry, white bread (not stale!). You can dry it out if needed by putting it in the oven for a few minutes. The easiest way is then the put the slices onto a food processor and blend until you have fine crumbs but otherwise a cheese grater will work just as well.

1. When the pastry is ready, leave the tart tin to one side and prepare the filling. To do this, just mix the syrup, treacle, breadcrumbs, zest and lemon juice together in a large bowl and pour onto the pastry. Bake in the oven at 190°C for 20-30 minutes but not too long, otherwise it will be too hard. Leave to cool some minutes before serving.

Man cannot live on cake alone - cheese scones for Oscar

I can't explain why but somehow I'm attached to certain routines. There are Saturday mornings, waking up without the alarm clock, making myself a cup of black tea with milk in my Penguin Pride and Prejudice mug and settling down on my sofa to read for a couple of hours. Eventually though, there's a gnawing hunger which can no longer be ignored. I know it would be simpler to already have some bread and a full fridge but somehow I love the obligation of having to go out to stock up on pasta, cheese, fruit, vegetables, huge free range organic eggs and of course, a fresh loaf from the market around the corner. There's the smile of the old woman with the eggs stall, the Italian choosing the flowers who exclaims "Grazie mille"when she pays and the elegantly dressed Russian explaining why she always buys bread with sunflower seeds instead of with rye. My arm aches under the weight of the canvas shopping bag with ladybirds brought back from the UK and turning down the little street that leads to mine, I notice the red haired woman who lives in the same building with her black sausage dog. After spending far too long desperately trying to make space for everything in the fridge and the pantry, there's breakfast of sourdough bread, Apfelbrötchen (a roll with caramelised apples, totally irresistable), yoghurt and fruit followed by a few more hours on the sofa with my books.

Some polaroids from Friedrichshain.

There is the silence of Sunday mornings and a little later the ringing of the church bells close by, sometimes the pleasure of taking my time over a long brunch, perhaps at Datscha and always the afternoon walk with my camera.

A dramatic sky this morning at Warschauer Straße

Brunch at Datscha

Just as welcome though are Friday evenings after a long day which starts too early when everything is dark and cold. There's no time to eat between lessons which means that I take cake for the important hours between 10 and midday to share with happy students but somehow it never makes up for having a real lunch and by the end of the last lesson, my eyes are heavy with fatigue. After work though, there are the meetings with W. to look forward to. Once there was the caesar salad and coffee in a record store specialising in jazz with the faint strains of samba music in the background. Later there was chocolate cake and a glass of prosecco as they were getting ready for a concert and one of the salespeople took to the piano to play a few bars. Another time, we met in the most gorgeous, old fashioned café whose wooden tables are decorated with large vases of tulips above which are shelves crammed with the loveliest accessories and where you sit on benches with gingham cushions. Time stood still as I savoured an Auflauf (a gratin) with ruccola and later an enormous piece of rhubarb Streuselkuchen with cream which turned out to be too big even for me! Later that evening, we walked just a little further down the road to Marga Schoeller, my favourite place for English books where we browsed, agonising over what to take.

Despite being so tired, Friday nights always seem right for Woody Allen films. Favourite are Manhatton with the little voice of Mariel Hemingway, Manhatton Murder Mystery with the poker scene, the Thanksgiving dinners from Hannah and her Sisters (and empathising with the character of Dianne Wiest, the kooky failure of the family) and Dianne Keaton singing in Annie Hall. Last week though, there was a screening of the Ghostwriter in a tiny cinema at Hackesche Höfe. I've always loved the fact that unlike in the U.K and the U.S, you can take in glasses of wine and beer and afterwards went next door for late night pasta with a carafe of red wine. We talked for hours, only noticing how late it was when the waiters took the desserts from the glass cabinet back to the kitchen. Walking back alone from Savignyplatz through the streets which have become so familiar, there was the pleasant warmth of the alcohol inside mixed with sleepiness and the thought that it was the weekend at last.

Walking around the market at Boxhagener Platz today

A poster from one of my favourite films, Persona by Ingmar Bergman you can buy there.

Two of the other things I made this week, cinnamon stars (yes, I know it's not Christmas but other cookies don't turn out well with my difficult gas oven) and an amazing whole lemon tart from Smitten Kitchen you have to try.

And the title of this post? I often look at the list of these recipes and feel bad that there are so non-sweet ones. Perhaps you all have the impression that I only live on cake. Actually, I love preparing salty dishes but find desserts much more photogenic and don't have the patience to compose the shots. But I'd like to tell you about Oscar, one my parents' cats. Oscar is a cat after my own heart; un vrai gourmand. It all started the day we bought the bread rolls and were astonished to find the packaging had been torn and that one was missing. Later it turned out that Oscar had a passion for bread. He went through phases of liking different things; green beans, roast chicken and most of all, cheese scones. Every time anyone went to fridge, he would be there, begging for food. As I said though, he's a gourmand and doesn't just like any cheese scones; the favourite are Marks and Spencer's which meant that we have to call in advance to reserve them as they sell out quickly, or otherwise homemade ones are the next best alternative. Recently it's seemed like everyone is making cheese scones, thanks to Gracienne's amazing recipe. I prefer though to give you my traditional one which is good enough for Oscar.

Cheese scones for Oscar

225g plain flour

1 tsp baking powder

55g butter

a pinch of salt

150ml milk

150g strong cheddar cheese (or you could take Gruyère if you can't find cheddar)

1. Pre-heat the oven to 200°C. Grease and line and baking sheet.

2. Mix the flour, baking powder and salt in a bowl. Add the butter and rub in with your fingertips until you have a mixture like breadcrumbs. Add in 3/4 of the cheese and the milk, mixing with a fork, then with your fingers until the dough forms a ball.

3. On a well floured work surface, roll out the dough until it's about 2cm thick, then cut out the scones using a round metal cutter and place on the baking sheet. Brush the tops with a little milk, then sprinkle the rest of the cheese on the tops of the scones.

4. Bake for approximately 12-15 mins or until golden and cheesy on top. Leave to cool a little but enjoy them while they're still warm with a thick layer of butter.

Blog anniversary

A large bol of café au lait at the Café Fleury on Sunday afternoon with its floral wallpaper and black and white photos of French film stars.

Lying on the grass surrounded by daffodils and looking in through the windows at the Thomas Bernhard house at the whitewashed walls, hard wooden furniture and enormous shoe collection.

The endless sandy beaches and the sound of the waves crashing as I closed my eyes in Northumberland.

The perfect azur of the sky in Venice reflected in the labyrinth of canals and the colours of the streetlamps in the twilight.

The box of macaroons from Ladurée in London.

The silence of Sunday mornings and the afternoons exploring new places with only my camera and a book.

The cries of the children playing in the schoolyard behind my room.

Haus der Kulturen der Welt, Berlin

Potsdamer Platz

Tiergarten

Františkovy Lázně

Treptower park

Some more shots from wintry Paris

The numbness of my fingers warmed by mugs of hot chocolate on icy afternoons.

The deserted alleys of the Jardin de Luxemburg. Remembering the little café there where I used to go.

The frozen surface of Wannsee under a cold and colourless sky.

These are some of the moments I've shared with you over the past year. It's hard to believe that today is my little blog's first anniversary. One year ago, I didn't really know what I wanted to say on this blog, I didn't have a camera, had only taken a few photos before and had no idea where the journey would take me. Most of all, I didn't know any of you and want to thank you all for following me so faithfully; your comments mean so much to me. I'm looking forward to everything the next year will bring.

To celebrate, I've posted some unpublished images from the past year, plus another Berlin cheesecake. Actually, it's one I tried from Nigel Slater which has to be one of the best cheesecakes I've ever made and incredibly simple. The first time I made it, I accidentally took almond instead of vanilla essence (they're both in similar bottles by the same brand) but everyone still loved it which must be a good sign.

Orange and lemon cheesecake (from Nigel Slater's the Kitchen Diaries)

For the base

250g digestive biscuits/graham crackers or in Germany, I use Dinkelkekse from the Bioladen

7 tbsp butter

1. Melt the butter in a saucepan. Leave to cool. Crush the biscuits either in a food processor or by putting them in a plastic bag and breaking them with a rolling pin. Mix with the butter.

2. Put the buttery crumbs into the bottom of a ckae or pie tin and press them down with a spoon. Place the tin into the freezer for some minutes so you get a firm base.

For the cheesecake

300g mascarpone

225g philadelphia

100g superfine sugar

3 large eggs

an egg yolk

an orange

a lemon

225g crème fraîche

1. Mix the mascarpone, cream cheese, sugar, eggs and extra yolk in a bowl. Grate in the zest of the orange and lemon. Add the cream, lemon juice (but not the juice of the orange) and vanilla extract. Beat until smooth.

2. Pour the cheesecake mix on top of the cold biscuit base and bake in the over at 140°C for around 50 minutes or until it's done.

Sarah-Lou asked me to say a few words about the book by Simone de Beauvoir in the photo. It's the Cahiers de Jeunesse which I had my heart set on for some time. Mémoires d'une jeune fille rangée (Memoirs of a dutiful daughter) was one of the most important books for me growing up. I loved her honesty, fearlessness and independence. During my trips to Paris, I used to go around all the places she knew with the impression that I was following in her footsteps and reading her work inspired me to study philosophy. Although I love the other volumes of her memoirs, I somehow felt they were more idealised than the first one. The Cahiers de jeunesse offer a different opening onto her thoughts from this early time and I love being able to hear her real voice. The notebooks are impressively serious about working, reading and most of all finding herself. It's a big, heavy book to be read at home on a Sunday afternoon with a large piece of cheesecake and a fresh pot of tea.