Peak performance

Tartiflette is one of the most gloriously indulgent après-ski centrepieces, but you don't need to have spent the day bombing down black runs to enjoy it

- Tom Parker Bowles

I'VE never been much of a skier, despite more than four decades spent in pursuit of Alpine excellence. Ski school was endured, rather than enjoyed, and thankfully came to an end after one particular exchange, on the chairlift, between my mother and the French ski guide. 'Aimez-vous les chevaux?' she asked, attempting polite conversation. 'Oui,' he replied with a grin. 'Avec les frites.' So that was the end of that.

Although I can still muddle my way down most slopes (especially if emboldened by a glass or three of schnapps), my style could be charitably described as 'l'homme dans la WC'. Sure, there's something exhilarating about that first run of the day, when the snow is soft and untouched, the slopes empty and the sky a brilliant shade of azure. But, these days, skiing is basically the easiest way to get from one Alpine restaurant to another. That, I have at last realised, is the point of two skis.

Nothing makes me happier than Alpine food. Not a new James Lee Burke, nor an old Rob Reiner (RIP), nor even my first tacos