Peter Mayle is famous for his autobiographical A Year in Provence. I haven’t read it, nor did I see the film, but I’ve always been aware of him. Mr Mayle was a sort of expert on Provence, and France in general. And France is where this little novel, Chasing Cézanne is partially set it. It’s one of those books whose characters think nothing of stomping all over the world. It starts in New York, makes several visits to the south of France, the Caribbean, the English countryside, and of course Provence.

The characters fit the globetrotter type too — our MC, a “dashing” photographer who works for a glamorous magazine, his agent/soon-to-be girlfriend, a powerful editor who constantly reminds me of Anna Wintour, the villain with the Germanic name and the eccentric art dealer who acts as both catalyst and tour guide. Add a scandalous art scam and a little romance and we have the ingredients of a light-hearted comedy romp.

Some reviewers on amazon complain that the characters eat out at restaurants too much, or that Mr Mayle is too keen to show off his knowledge of French cuisine. Blah I say, that’s the point of the book. It’s not supposed to be War and Peace deep, people. If anything, I find the “elaborate” restaurant meals kinda boring, and want even more descriptions. I guess that’s the effect of the passage of time. The book was first published in 1997, those were the days when photography was still done using film, people were beginning to travel as opposed to just laying on the beach, and food programs on TV were mainly instructional (think Delia Smith and how to boil an egg). Foodie terms like velouté, sabayon, amuse-bouche and ceviche weren’t part of our everyday lexicon then, but have become oh so familiar (well, to those of us who are dedicated followers of the food network anyway). In other words, the readers then weren’t as sophisticated as we are now, and were more likely to be wowed by a French word by virtual of that word being French alone.

The art scam itself is pretty unremarkable and the resolution did come rather too quickly, almost like our villain has run out of steam, or has become so bored with the proceedings that he decided not to be a villain any more. It’s still a decent enough book, easy to read, and mostly enjoyable. Mr Mayle does know his food and France, no question. And for the record, I, an amateur cook, have made sabayon and if need be, can produce an amuse-bouche or two, but not in 1997.