Some kids get the itch to become astronauts but when I’m grown up I want to be Harry Lester. Once I am I’ll open my perfect little bistro. A tear-the-paper-off-the-table, stoneware carafe and colourful brocante-deco affair, doesn’t matter where so long as it’s hard to get to, oh – and in France. I will dress
The Ardèche isn’t just about saving dish water for the garden and sleeping out the heat. There’s also the time of year you butcher the pigs that keep the vendangers fed during harvest. Namely January. Casse-croûte was at 10, the breaking and dipping of bread into last year’s bacon, boudin and dark-ochre eggs still crackling
The latest instalment of Hannah’s adventures in the Ardeche finds her developing a strange relationship with a pneumatic press. And realising that the hardest work at harvest was not in the vineyard, after all.