Only when pressed will Tony Booth, who together whit his wife, Linda, runs a stylish hotel and restaurant deep down in the Languedoc region of the sunny south of France, admit to having "done a Basil Fawlty".

"I am no relation to Connie Booth from the television series", the 47-year-old former Londoner is quick to point out, "but sometimes I do feel as if I am. The phone is constantly ringing: one customer might be complaining that the air-conditioning is too strong, another that the toilet isn’t working properly - and I have been know to thrown the occasional wobbly just like Basil."

The Booths have been the proud owners of La Passiflore (French for passion-flower), a magnificent 18^th-century farmhouse boasting a handsome courtyard with weeping cedars and olive trees, since February 1987. It now brings a wry smile to Tony’s lips when he recalls that the original intention had been to find work which would be strictly seasonal in nature - thereby conferring on them both sufficient time and funding with which to enjoy the good life. But the truth is, alas, that they are victims of their own success, their bustling enterprise now obliging both Booths to put in 12 to 15-hour days, six to seven days of the week - throughout autumn, winter, spring and summer alike.

Guests are usually delighted to have stumbled upon an English patron. Its seems to add that certain je ne sais quoi, something to tell the friends about once back home. Only one English couple refused to stay upon learning that their erstwhile compatriots were running the show. But even the more tolerant majority usually display a keen impatience to find out the full particulars of precisely how La Passiflore is run - especially when it comes to the all-important question of gastronomy.

"And la cuisine?" they will invariably inquire.

"It’s traditional French cuisine," Monsieur Booth replies. "Prepared with fresh produce by my wife."

"Oh, lovely. I take it that your wife is French then?"

No - she’s English actually."

Shock, horror. Short pause to observe guest’s dropping jawbone. Tony Booth has seen it all so many times before that he now appears to rather relish the moment when he drops what he often refers to as le bombshell. He can afford to be relaxed - confident in the knowledge as they approach their 10^th anniversary (both in marriage and as business partners) that there has only ever been the highest of praise for his wife’s extraordinary culinary talents. For even the French, not known for the bandying about of compliments when it comes to the serious business of cuisine, have not been low to lavish praise on Linda’s cooking, even though their compliments often disguise their underlying sense of gastronomic superiority and generally dismal view of all things English.

"Mais, c’est extraordinaire’, more than one diner has remarked, "vous cuisinez mieux que nous!"

It wasn’t always such a cozy story of success in the face of adversi6ty or a reaffirmation of the principles underlying the entente cordiale. Far from it. For when they first embarked upon their venture, they really had no idea if their back-of-an-envelope figures would be likely to stack up at all. That represented some considerable financial risk, considering they had both laid their financial lives on the line. When an estate agent informed the Booths that he had an interesting property for them to view in Vergeze their reply came back in stereo sound. "Where’s Vergeze?" In fact it is on the Nationale 113, halfway between Montpellier and Nimes.

"When we first saw the hotel we both fell in love with it. It was as simple as that," Linda explains. "We thought that it was such a beautiful place that people would be bound to come along and like it too. We did everything ourselves - from chambermaiding to carpentry - the lot. We also did everything humanly possible to make it succeed. I remember in the early days we once had a coach load of Italians on their way to pilgrimage at Lourdes. I don’t know what happened there but there must have been some kind of miracle - because they all stopped off again for meal on their way back to Rome! When I left school I took a City and Guilds in cookery and dressmaking. When I came to live in France I really wanted to work - and to work while doing that that I enjoyed. I remember Tony’s reaction well. ‘Right,’ he said, ‘into the kitchen you go!."

As a former top model from the 1960s, Linda was more at home posing for women’s magazines then working under her professional name of Linda Bradford. "I earned lots of money in those days", she sighs, "never earned as much money since!"

A casual glance at the standard Passiflore set menu of 135 francs (approximately £14) gives not the slightest hint of the Englishwoman hard at work in the small but sparkling kitchens, the main course consisting of a choice between Tranche deQuasi de Veau, Magret de Candard, Brochettes de Lotte et Coquilles St. Jacques and Tournedos au Beurre Marchand de Vin. Only those with a more trained eye or already briefed on the ethnic origins of the extremely energetic management team (for Tony is rushing around taking orders out front) will be able to detect that Linda’s Pâtisserie Maison often provides convenient cover under which lemon meringue pie and other plump-inducing puddings can be smuggled in.

"To other English couples who might be tempted to rush out here and set up shop I would say ‘beware’," Tony cautions. "It’s only too easy to fall flat on your face - and a lot of people do. You have to know the French ropes - which include the crippling cost of their social charges and which have been the ruination of many a small business."

Linda is as concerned as her husband about sound financial management. But for the former fashion model turned chef, La Passiflore has provided her with a fulfillment beyond her wildest dreams: "I just wanted to be successful at something. Just as I had been in my modeling career.

For years I had this gap in my life - of not having something that I could really put my heart and soul into. But in this business you are pushed to the limit, you learn something every day. For me it’s a joy, hard work though it be. I think its fair to say that thanks for this hotel and restaurant I have been able to find myself."

Now there’s a recipe indeed.