On a summer day of two-thousand and five, I remember driving on those small roads in between Biot and Valbonne. With something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue*.
[On the menu today - The (not so) classics of my childhood]
Childhood memories are – more often than not – strongly related to food.
The slice of store-bought chocolate marble cake – Savane, for those of you who grew up in France – that would leave in your pocket in the morning only to be eaten as a mid-afternoon snack when reduced to a mess of crumbs.