[Brian Allgar]

The boy simply refused to eat. For a long time, disgusted by all the food he was offered, he went to bed early. Confronted with a dish of ragout de mouton, he would turn pale, clasp a hand to his brow, and retire for the night. His parents had tried tempting him with a succulent pied de porc, some tripes a la mode de Caen, or even a filet de boeuf en croûte, but to no avail. As for eating up his greens before he was allowed dessert, he disdained both. Even when his parents relaxed this rule and offered him a Gateau St-Honoré or a Tarte Tatin, he would burst into tears and run trembling to his room. He was on the verge of anorexia when, finally, his aunt found the solution. “Marcel”, she said one day, while making tea, “Would you care to try a madeleine?”