It was so good to welcome Rachel, Elliot, Max and Louis home last night (they've been camping in the Loire Valley in the centre of France, as you do). I managed to keep the house looking tidy, though the fridge had a bachelor look about it - one bottle of beer, half a carton of milk, fresh coffee, pate, cheese and some mouldy salad that needed chucking.
Happily it is also now stocked with nice cheese like Rocquefort and, best of all, five bottles of Sancerre. I think this is the king of white wines. It has everything it should have and never disappoints. I am writing this whilst sat on Bristol Temple Meads station and stuffed with a top lunch from Hotel du Vin, but the thought of being sat in our conservatory as the sun sets, crisp glass of Sancerre in hand, woman of my hearthfire at my side and the twittering of Marple's avian community filling the dusky air will keep me sane for the next 4 hours.