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Making pizza, I finally grasped one of life’s elusive, essential truths

At the edge of the vegetable plot was a deep entangled jungle of cherry tomato vines. I set about making the pizza sauce

Life is not perfect—but, as with food, we should take advantage where we can.

In August we went to stay at our friend Peter’s farm in Bresse, across the river Saône from the famous vineyards of Burgundy. The weather was dry Savannah. Michel, the chicken farmer in the next village, who sold us two of his cou-nu, naked neck chickens, (which he considers to be superior to the famous Poulet de Bresse) raised his hands to the cloudless blue sky, “It hasn’t really rained properly since you were last…

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