I am a person who, like Hercule Poirot, prefers comfort and regular meals to menacing ex-girlfriends and sinister train conductors. It is my belief that Agatha Christie’s beloved detective series, while excellent, would have been vastly improved had the bit with the murders been edited out and readers been left with 200 pages of Poirot sitting down to elegant, well-arranged little meals with tidy cutlery arrangements and delightful little dessert carts

Presented without further comment:

Hercule Poirot in
Dinner On The Train

Chapter One: Tiny Cut-Crystal Glasses Of Crème de Menthe

Chapter Two: Eating Cheese While Gazing Out Over Lake Geneva, Which Is Full Of Lake Water Instead Of Bodies

Chapter Three: A List Of Soufflés And Living People

Chapter Four: Cutting Toast Into Identically Sized Squares With Lord Edgware, Who Was Still Alive

Chapter Five: The Perfectly-Poached Eggs Reinforce The Detective’s Sense Of Order And Symmetry

Chapter Six: Port Or Claret?

Chapter Seven: A Digression On Moules Frites/Poirot Takes A Nap

Chapter Eight: Checking For Crumbs (There Were None)

Chapter Nine: A Pot Of Freshly-Brewed Tea And A Tall Armchair By The Fire

Chapter Ten: On Sauces

Chapter Eleven: A Dinner Uninterrupted By Screams

Chapter Twelve: A Nice Little Walk Around The Garden After Dinner

Chapter Thirteen: Hot Cocoa And A Tray Of Cookies On The Nightstand Before Bed