Torbjørn Rødland



Oh, is it ever apple season. The house smells of the best, most perfect backyard apples you’ve ever tasted, being gently cooked and schmushed through a chinois to make heaven’s own apple sauce. Last year, eating it every day, the stuff lasted me till late spring. This year, who knows? I just might fill the tub with it, jump in and die of happiness. (And second degree burns.)

His Website