Newmarket may be the cradle of thoroughbred racing and breeding, but as a culinary destination it leaves very much to be desired. I just got back from the big autumn Horses in Training sale, and I think it’s going to take a week to detox from the experience. The sales are always the same: Wonderful, intense, exhausting and nonstop. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. But the sales involve constant motion between the heat of the sales ring, the cold of looking at prospects, the heat of the bar, the cold of looking at more horses, the heat of the restaurant…you get the idea. Steak and ale pie. Beer. Lasagne. Beer. Fish and Chips. Beer. Shepherd’s Pie. More beer. One can go days without seeing a green vegetable while increasing one’s alcohol tolerance (and waste line). But I’m back in France now and here’s the upside: I think we bought a wonderful filly for our Guernsey owners. She’s called Strictly Rhythm, a two-year-old daughter of Hawk Wing who should arrive tomorrow in the wee hours of the morning. We’re all very excited about her. Meanwhile, I’m off for a dinner of salad and water.