Certain books not only inspire me, but make me act on the inspiration. I am not speaking of lofty ideals just a simple lust for good tastes. “Ripailles”is such a book. I feel a certain schadenfreude as I look at the mouthwatering ideas illustrated in the book as I am acutely aware that no restaurateur within a 100km radius of our home could afford to produce such food. Not because the dishes are expensive or complicated, but because they really can’t AFFORD to run such a restaurant financially, and they would not have a customer base. The French bistro exists in London and even on Merseyside, but not in provincial France. So I make the food at home. These little chocolate custards did it for me yesterday, and I’ve just been reading a simple recipe for Poule au Pot. Guess what’s for dinner?