persuaded John to publish the book
on the strength of it – ‘Imagine, a
whole roast sheep, and the meat
ration a few ounces a week’ – was
left undisturbed. So was the one for
a spit-roasted gigot à la provençale,
studded with a dozen cloves of
garlic and twice as many anchovy
fillets, served with an extra litre of
thrice-blanched cloves of garlic
given a fourth and final bath in a
cup of bouillon. That recipe I had
chosen to leave – I am no longer
sure why, nor do I remember its
source – in the original French.
This elicited a characteristically
waspish comment from Mrs
ff
(ff)
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