This year on our trip to the Dordogne I’ll admit I was pretty happy with myself. When we first went to France as a family, I was the only one who had a smattering of French – and that was seriously rusty from the long hiatus since my GCSE days. Over the years and holidays it’s slowly improved, and the whole family has been getting better as we try at every opportunity to get by with French rather than expecting the locals to figure out our English. But I’ll admit it’s a slow painful process. This summer we revisited an old favourite restaurant from that first French...