Recently my toddler was out in the garden, and as all curious toddlers must, he picked up a passing snail and put it into his mouth. “No!” I cried, pulling something slimy and half munched from his mouth. “We don’t eat snails!” Well actually, if you live in France, you do.
I’ve always wanted to go to a restaurant, raise my hand languidly and say “Waiter, a bottle of your finest Dom Perignon”, as if it were a regular occurrence. Unless this history blog takes off into the stratosphere, this is likely to remain a dream. So, champagne. Not sparkling wine, I mean the real deal. […]