I’ve started to notice the change in my shopping lists as winter has at last decided to enter from stage right. Butternut squash, celeriac, beetroot and parnsips are replacing tomatoes, fennel, peppers and aubergines in my selection of ingredients which is a tough call for an addict to Mediterranean flavours. Looking at my sad bowl containing the last reminders of summer food, I knew it was time to release the few remaining, healthy aubergines and let them fly south to enjoy the sun and hot oil for which they were clearly pining.To be honest, which is a bad phrase suggesting that one has been less than honest up to this point, my mind has been on other things these last couple of days. Jenny has fractured her right shoulder blade and in consequence the arm appending to that scapula is now held immobile by a very French piece of surgical wear, of the sort that is proudly displayed in any self respecting Pharmacie’s window, which has resulted in my becoming her right hand for the foreseeable future – well, certainly for a few months . It is interesting to notice that in the land of Dior, St Laurent and Nina Ricci the Pharmacie’s window display, in our small corner of France, will major on commodes, bath hoists and crutches rather than the cosmetic fripperies that are the corner stone of the fantasy that suggests the existence of le chic partout en France.