Frederic Malle's L'eau D'hiver

Someone dressed in baby powder blue, nice trousers, apron and all, has scrubbed a little heart of visibility into the condensation on the kitchen window. Everything else is misty, wistful, cool to the touch.

There is a cup of wildflower honey, and a quarter cup of orange blossom honey waiting patiently on the sticky white counter.

What will we make today?

Today we make candy and cakes and babies and preserved blossoms.