Re “How the cauli got hip” (G2, 14 April), on a trip to France a few years ago we booked a night in St-Omer, Pas-de-Calais, both en route south and at the end of our holiday. It’s a lovely town but, like many places in northern France, deserted in August, so we felt we’d “done” the place that first night. I was not looking forward to a dead Sunday on our weary way home. We arrived to find it was one of the days of the year in St-Omer: La fête du chou-fleur. The streets were packed with local people and local cauliflowers, we had to fight our way through to see the floats on the waterway, each tableau made out of cauliflower crates, including a spindly wooden version of the town’s cathedral and, of course, the evening finished with fireworks. Since then cauliflowers have never been boring, they always bring back that late summer evening. Vive le chou-fleur and please let’s stay part of Europe.
Caroline Cole
Huddersfield
• Join the debate – email guardian.letters@theguardian.com
