The marrow was not merely large. It was, in the words of the local newspaper’s gardening correspondent, “a vegetable colossus, the sort of specimen that makes other growers question their life choices.” Aunt Mildred had nurtured it with a devotion usually reserved for sacred …
I had come to review the establishment on the strength of its three Michelin stars and the whispered rumor that its chef, the famously temperamental Armand Leclerc, had once thrown a truffle at a food critic and hit a visiting dignitary. The penguin was an unexpected variable. …
The trouble had begun, as troubles often do, with the best of intentions. The house, a Georgian beauty with the structural integrity of a soufflé left out in a draft, had been in Reggie’s family for generations. Each heir, upon inheriting, made some small improvement - a …
The trouble had begun, as trouble so often does, with a perfectly reasonable assumption. Reginald Ponsonby-Smythe had received an invitation to the Marquess of Wexford’s summer garden party, an event renowned for its cucumber sandwiches and its strict prohibition on sentimental …