We used to live just an hour from Hermitage - close enough for a Saturday morning wine run. Some regions stick with you. So when there’s lamb on the table and Chave Farconnet beside it, Northern Rhône memories come back.

A winter drive through the Jurançon vineyards, a golden sunset, and a bottle of wine I couldn’t leave without. Back home, it became poached pears — fragrant, honeyed and just sweet enough to let the Jurançon do its thing.