Jean-Pierre Ancèle’s first novel is as tender as it is tasty, like a glass of muscadet, with some accents of Raymond Queneau and Marcel Aymé.
Once upon a time, there was a small café, between the city and the country, a refuge for a handful of strange people that the modern world had not yet swallowed up.
In this place we can find Madoval, the boss, Mésange, his daughter, Comdinitch, Failagueule, and the people who sit at the bar. But we can also find friendship, laughter, humanity and a certain talent for cultivating difference.
