Looking for the Chicken Nugget Tree

25th September
Most of the British population here are attending French classes as a way of trying to get to grips with the language. Fat Dad however, has taken the osmotic approach to language learning, that well known process where simply being in France makes the language absorb through the skin. He doesn’t believe in school so his children don’t go. And because it’s really hard communicating with French people when you don’t speak the language, the osmotic method is slow.

Sometimes I stop by his gate and let Fat Dad lecture me, he always has a lot to say about the evils of processed food, he doesn’t allow his children any sugar or salt and wants them to grow up eating food that they have grown or foraged themselves, living off the land 'like the French do'. Their vegetable garden isn't going yet, so it’s down to foraging for the moment. He asks if I have any idea what is around that they could gather. There are figs everywhere, I get him a plateful. He looks mystified - I show him how to eat the fruit. He tries a little and decides that figs are not going to be on their menu, they’ve also rejected tomatoes and apples - I’m curious to know what they do eat.

It was the eldest child’s birthday today, Fat Dad took his son to visit neighbours so they can announce the event. I passed by with a card and was invited into their house for the first time. The kitchen is dominated by a huge table mostly covered with power tools, screws and nails, children and mother are sitting at the table happily munching away from a big tray of cold white oven chips, a dish of hard boiled eggs and a tray of chicken nuggets. This is the food they like, Fat Dad says,
on special occasions we have this for a treat.