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Amber’s Substack

This is my ode to France through my perpetual love of food and wine, sprinkled with anecdotes of life and love and probably disaster. Occasionally (hopefully) funny.

Newsletter · By Amber Gardner · English · Official site

Indexed issues, last 90 days
3
Latest publication
Sep 12, 2026
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Earliest in this view
Jul 26, 2026

Latest issues

  1. Issue · Sep 12, 2026

    A competition essay that never got short-listed, long-listed, or basically acknowledged... So, enjoy! (opens the original)

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    I remember the anxiety and my clammy hands as I sat awaiting my interview in the majestically marbled halls of Claridge’s. I was there with the hope of becoming part of the wine team at the highly anticipated opening of Eleven Madison Park’s London outpost, Davies & Brook. As if imitating the times table of my childhood, I was running the Grand Crus of Chablis and the crus of Beaujolais on a loop in my head, trying to calm my frayed nerves.I was certain that they would ask me to differentiate th

  2. Issue · Aug 29, 2026

    August, Août | the importance of the pootle, the joy of the apéro + how to rebound (opens the original)

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    I am certain that the pootle is an almost-British iteration of the apéro. The pootle involves less smoking, drinking, eating, flirting and/or complaining (depending on your mood), but I believe in its soul, they are one and the same and are both key to living a good bloody life.I am relieved to see that pootle — of such frequent occurrence in my vocab — isn’t one of those weird words you learn from your family, only to realise in adulthood that it doesn’t exist and that your family is just a bit

  3. Issue · Jul 26, 2026

    July, Juillet | a dead bat, break ups, love letters + my brief stint as a water jousting WAG (opens the original)

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    I think it is fair to say that this month has been a very random one. In some ways it feels like it’s been a gorgeously summery collection of weeks filled with boat rides, gorging on pornographically ripe peaches and apricots, endless cold wine, many ciggies, much turquoise-water swimming, and just the right amount of late nights and raucousness. I took my first holiday in a long time - going by ferry to Sardinia - and somewhere in the midst of the pasta and free-poured negronis, I realised that

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