Adventures in wine and cheese

The uncomfortable bistro chairs have been unfolded from their over-wintering rust and set on the little deck that sits low over our stretch of shallow chalk stream. And the table wiped clean of blue-mist-morning coffee rings, lunchtime’s hasty-sandwich crumbs and the pistachio shells of rug-wrapped shoulder-season evenings. Spring has arrived in the south-east of England and our minds – like Provençal tournesol – inevitably pivot to the promise of rosé and goat’s cheese in the dusk. But not just rosé – white, too, and red. It’s easy...