Here is a photographic ode to the seasonings of the most classic Autumn dessert: pumpkin pie. A deep toned, sensual snapshot of the love affair for pumpkin spice to evoke the flavors and craving for pumpkin pie without ever showing the completed piece itself. Instead, the viewer's own memory can take over, combining and intertwining the ingredients captured to create the nostalgia of their own Thanksgivings and kitchens in the fall months. 

After first learning about the breakfast habits of parisians, I spent a solid eight weeks in high school breakfasting over hot cocoa with baguette dipped inside and dribbling on the countertop. At the same time, my father would grind fresh coffee beans with a rumbling whir for my mother still sleeping upstairs. To this day, that sound is like a rooster crow to my ears, marking the start of a day. In college, I drink caramel-colored tea soaked with milk to warm my gut after returning from the dark, early morning gym. The rare moments of pause between classes are over steaming lattes with friends; the first sip of frothy milk mutes the bustle of the coffee shop line. My life like nearly everyone’s in wintery Minnesota is punctuated by fleeting, steaming mugs that create at least a moment’s pause in ever busy days. 

Whether stingingly hot cups held in gloved fingertips that melt snow down the side of a sticky cocoa or leaf-tinged teas sloshing in the frosty morning bite of the early bus, the most consistent, simple pleasure in my winter days are a moment spent with a hot drink. A simple coffee with maybe-sour milk to fuel Wednesday’s shift or the extra rich cocoa that grandma makes after picking the Christmas tree are the moments that warm us in stomach and spirit in the harshness of winter. 

Warmth in Winter is a stylized spotlight on those moments. Every shot tries to be vague enough to be a coffee at the cabin or countertop, a chocolatey mess at grandma’s island or in the apartment, or a steaming tea with friends or in the quiet of a lone afternoon; each one is a portrait of fika.

Fika is a word borrowed from Sweden. It denotes a coffee break, but one with the intention of slowing down and appreciating the good things. The essence of fika is that it be a true pause.