August is pretty terrific, isn’t it? It’s the last chance to enjoy some vacation time before September arrives, which, for many, is a kind of alternative new year, especially for those of us with children of school age. But August also marks the start of shooting season, while an entire country — Italy — basically shuts up shop, with its farmers harvesting tomatoes, potatoes and other crops for our degustation pleasure.
I will be back in Bargemon, in the south of France, where, as F. Scott Fitzgerald put it, “the diffused magic of the hot, sweet south… the soft-pawed night and the ghostly wash of the Mediterranean far below” will help my stresses and strains to dissipate, and I can contemplate important things, like whether brown really should never be…
