This afternoon I went to one of my all-time favourite places. The first time I came here, I was still living in Jutland and working for LEGO, but the moment I walked through the doors I knew my days in Jutland were numbered. I had to go home to Copenhagen just so I could be near this place.
It’s called Torvehallerne.
It was Copenhagen’s first food mecca (now we have at least three) and it’s right next to my old high school. Good thing it wasn’t there back then or I would have got sooooooo fat. Back then it was just a big square where they sold fresh fruit and vegetables. Which they still do, but now it’s so much more.
It’s minuscule cafés with cakes that look like they could fly. It’s chocolates and freshly squeezed juices. It’s spices and wine and garlic. Confit de canard sandwiches so delicious I could eat them every day. Fishmongers, organic butchers, sushi shaped like dragons.
A few year ago, during the summer, you could rent your own little stall and sell whatever homemade delicacies you could whip up. I wanted so much to do that but being on the other side of the country made it impossible.
Every time I come here I want to rent a stall and sell cakes. I want to knead dough, grate chocolate and sprinkle cinnamon. I want a life far far away from an office and a computer. I want to be the one surrounded by spices. Then I want to take breaks and hammer out a few chapters or blog about my latest creation.
The first time I read Chocolat I wanted to leave it all behind for a chocolate shop in France. I’m so glad to have started my Sunday baking posts. All week I look forward to the moment when I can dive into my cookbooks. Sometimes I think there’s another life out there for me where all this could be more than just a dream. I wonder what it would take to make it a reality?