For several summers running, I had rather a dreamy job which involved cooking whatever I wanted for a sweet family with a broad palate in the Southwest of France. Now, if you work in a restaurant, the bottom line is always in the front of your mind (or at least, your chef’s) and therefore your style can find itself rather cramped but other than occasional requests for potatoes (they were English after all) I could and did, mess about composing menus to my heart’s content.
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