1
" Noa sleeps with the curtains open, allowing as much moonlight as possible to flood her bedroom, allowing her to see each and every picture on the walls, if only as a pale glimmer. It took Noa weeks to perfect the art display. Reproductions of Monet's gardens at Giverny blanket one wall: thousands of violets- smudges of purples and mauves- and azaleas, poppies, and peonies, tulips and roses, water lilies in pastel pinks floating on serene lakes reflecting weeping willows and shimmers of sunshine. Turner's sunsets adorn another: bright eyes of gold at the center of skies and seas of searing magenta or soft blue. The third wall is splashed with Jackson Pollocks: a hundred different colors streaked and splattered above Noa's bed. The fourth wall is decorated by Rothko: blocks of blue and red and yellow blending and bleeding together. The ceiling is papered with the abstract shapes of Kandinsky: triangles, circles, and lines tumbling over one another in energetic acrobatics. "
― Menna van Praag , The Witches of Cambridge
4
" Cosima lines up all her little jars of dried herbs and flowers, then carefully picks the ones she needs.
"Acacia, for secret love. Celandine, for joys to come. Bluebell," she whispers, "for constancy. Bougainvillea, for passion. And chrysanthemum, for truth."
She finds her special ceramic baking bowl and begins to add the usual ingredients: flour, sugar, butter, and eggs.
"And the only flavor strong enough to mask the flowers." Cosima opens the cupboard above her head and takes down two bars of the finest dark chocolate she's ever tasted. "Ninety-nine percent. Perfect."
After she's grated a beetroot, for moisture, and added vanilla pods, for extra flavor, Cosima pours the dark, thick mixture into a small baking tin and slips it into the oven. An hour later, she cools the cake, then glazes its black (with a tint of purple) surface with a chocolate icing seasoned with a little dust of daffodil, passionflower, and cosmos: new beginnings, faith, joy in love and life. "
― Menna van Praag , The Witches of Cambridge
5
" Try this," Cosima says, handing him a sliver of lemon-pistachio cake. "While you wait."
George's eyes widen as he takes it. "Looks delicious." He gobbles it down in one gulp. "Incredible."
Cosima laughs. "You barely tasted it."
"I have highly sophisticated taste buds," George explains. "They only need a passing lick of something in order to fully appreciate the delicate subtleties of its flavors."
"Oh, really?" Cosima smiles. "Okay then, try this and tell me what's in it." She hands him a slice of wild mushroom and grape tomato bruschetta. "Every single ingredient."
"All right then," George says, as he begins to chew. "You're on." He swallows. "Okay, in addition to the obvious: basil, garlic, olive oil, black pepper, salt... a splash of lemon juice and a dash of rosemary."
Cosima studies him with a raised eyebrow and a curious smile. "That's very impressive. Anything else?"
"Nope." George shakes his head. "That's what my extremely sophisticated taste buds are telling me. "
― Menna van Praag , The Witches of Cambridge
13
" She sinks into the armchair by the window. It's soft, deep, and striped in her favorite colors: dusty pink and green. Nearly a year and a half after Francois died, Amandine insisted on redesigning the bedroom and, although Heloise protested at the time, she's grateful for it now. The room is a fairy tale, an escape from reality, a reminder of the romance of the past instead of the grief of the present. The bed is wrought-iron with white sheets and a canopy of cream gauze. The desks, bookshelves, and matching wardrobe are all original Victorian antiques painted white. With the touch of a sparkling crystal chandelier, Amandine created a room that gives Heloise a tiny smile of pleasure every time she wakes. "
― Menna van Praag , The Witches of Cambridge
