As I finished my last forkful of lamb at Le Champignon Sauvage, I felt a pang: a brief flurry of what felt like…what? Sorrow? A moment, passing yet potent, of sadness that I might never taste lamb cooked so beautifully, so wonderfully, in Britain again? Ridiculous, no? Preposterous. Risible. I’d have thought so too. UntilRead More