No Matter What Their Background, The Southern

Sundays In France Have A Different Atmosphere To Other Days, With Fewer Phone Calls, No Postman, No Delivery Men And No One Banging On The Door.

The English Kill Their Meat Twice: Once When They Slaughter It And Once When They Cook It.

It Is At A Time Like This, When Crisis Threatens The Stomach, That The French Display The Most Sympathetic Side Of Their Nature. Tell Them Stories Of Physical Injury Or Financial Ruin And They Will Either Laugh Or Commiserate Politely. But Tell Them You Are Facing Gastronomic Hardship, And They Will Move Heaven And Earth And Even Restaurant Tables To Help You.

The Funny Thing In France Is That Writers Are Not Allowed To Retire, Because The French Government Say You Are Still Earning Money From Books You Wrote 20 Years Ago.

Why Not Make A Daily Pleasure Out A Daily Necessity.