In Solliès-Toucas, Georges Garin did what many chefs do in retirement—he opened another restaurant. Le Lingousto was smaller, more casual in feel than Chez Garin, but no less exacting in its menu offerings; the meal did not disappoint. The new place was just the right blend of rustic Provençal and Parisian style, a lighter, sunnier version of Chez Garin. Our aperitifs for the evening were not the usual Provençal pastis, but rather for Jimmy, Sam, Bernard, and Mary, the Scotch that was de rigueur at all the gatherings of this circle of friends. (I was quite happy with several glasses of the local Bandol.) The luncheon menu began with the eponymous lingousto, a Mediterranean langoustine grilled and served with an airy sauce about which all raved. I, unfortunately, had to take their word for it because of a shellfish allergy. We then proceeded to a main of roasted lamb, done to a turn and accompanied by baby carrots, zucchini, string beans, and one of the unctuous vegetable purées that Georges had pioneered in Paris. The lamb was pink, fork-tender, and flavored with herbes de Provence, the seasoning blend that in gastronomic synesthesia captures all of the fragrances of the region, mixes them with sunshine, and transforms them into a taste. A true Provençal mesclun followed, brilliantly dressed with vinegar, local olive oil, and (I imagined) a hint of the lamb jus. A cheese course accompanied by crusty baguettes showcased southern specialties—I recall that there was a Roquefort because at an earlier meal at Georges' Paris place, he had taught me how to eat it as some French families do, by mashing butter into it before slathering it on bread or a firm, ripe pear, thereby making it at once milder and richer. Dessert was simple and simply perfect after a languorous lunch in the sunshine: fresh pineapple. Ripe and sweet-tart, it sealed off the meal brilliantly.