From Blackboard to Barnyard: A Teacher's Discovery of Food, Farming, and Rural France
How a Teaching Grant, the French Countryside, and Two Unexpected Mentors Changed Our Lives Forever
Three years ago, I left my teaching career in New York City and moved to Europe—first to Portugal, then to France. Stepping away from public education felt, in many ways, like leaving an unhealthy relationship, but ironically, it was my work in the classroom that allowed us to start anew.
Our journey to France began with a Fund for Teachers (FFT) grant I won in 2010 while still teaching in Brooklyn—a unique grant that supports educators in designing their own professional development through global travel. (I've written plenty of grants, especially for teachers—ask me how!)
Visiting france as researchers
Though I had visited France a few times before, these trips had been limited to Paris, and I hadn’t been to the country since 2001 or so. Our trip in 2010 was different and we came with a plan to learn a lot more about the food and the culture than we ever had before. Someone was paying for us to go, it felt like it was more important that we go to France not as tourists, but as researchers – sort of.
Nothing went according to the original plan. We were supposed to be in Normandy, but ended up in the middle of the country instead. We were supposed to work with one farmer, but they canceled, then another, but they canceled and then a friend of a friend of a farmer we didn’t even know offered us a place to work through WWOOFing—a program that connects volunteers with organic farms in exchange for food and accommodation.
It felt like an essential part of the grant, so we were determined to make it happen. We’d already heard some horror stories about WWOOFing experiences, and back then, the internet was nothing like it is today—connecting with people was harder. To make things even more interesting, Bertrand, our host, didn’t use the internet at all. He was brilliant, but when I showed him how to use a circular saw, it was like I was wielding lightning bolts. I’m still not sure if he was impressed or just found the tool pointless. Everything on that farm had been built with hand tools, and Bertrand was adamant about doing things the traditional way.
A journey planned - and unplanned
Almost nothing went as described. We were supposed to work on a modern, electrified vegetable farm with sophisticated irrigation systems. Instead, we found ourselves on a flower and potato farm, making teas with hosts that insisted upon using as few modern tools as possible. Rather than staying in one place, we drove all over the region, foraging wildflowers from various locations. Though it started with a few challenges, the experience ended up offering us far more than we ever imagined.
After we came back and I submitted everything to the FFT people, I was sure that there would be problems, but they were very cool about it. “This happens much more than you might think,” I was told.
We landed in a small town outside of Clermont-Ferrand in Auvergne, a region known for its rugged beauty and sparse population. It’s part of the diagonal vide, or the “empty diagonal,” often referred to as la France profonde (deep France). It’s a place with more cows than people, though not by much. There weren’t even that many cows and even they seemed to blend into the solitude of the landscape.
Our hosts, Bertrand and Lorraine, were eager to share the hidden treasures of their region. When we arrived in the tiny town of Felines, they joked about the population "explosion"—from 20 to 22 people with our arrival. There were no stores, not even a church or chapel, which seem to be in every town in the country. This place was not populated – and really never had been.
Winning the grant didn’t just give us the chance to travel—it reshaped our lives. While the grant itself wasn’t a large sum, it enabled us to dive deeper into a passion that had grown through my teaching. At the time, I was running a cooking and gardening program with my students, exploring connections between food, culture, and history, particularly American cuisine and the diverse influences that shaped it. The decision to focus on French cuisine was a bit accidental—it seemed like a natural choice, especially after learning that France has one of the shortest food supply chains in the world, which tied into the sustainability concerns my students were exploring. But we found out about all of that later.
Our journey began in Paris, visiting schools to see how food education was integrated into the curriculum. The timing was difficult, but I found a few teachers and school chefs who were happy to help.
“If kids grow kale, kids eat kale.” – Ron Finley
When my students read about the Paris public school food menus, they were more than curious. The meals look incredible—and they’re served to roughly 6 million young French students every day at an average cost of less than €3 per child, with no cost to the students. In NYC, while school food has improved recently (though still unevenly), the cost of free lunches ranges from $3 to $4 per meal to make.
And yes, students should always eat for free at school.
While there may be some variation between schools, Paris public schools typically offer balanced, multi-course lunches that include a starter like salad, a main course with protein and vegetables, a cheese or dairy product, fresh fruit, and water, all with a focus on fresh, locally sourced ingredients.
“We want fresh, locally sourced ingredients! We want a salad bar!” My students said, protesting their plastic wrapped apples and Wonder Bread pizzas – all of which lasted about 25 minutes before they just scarfed them down before going back to class. My students were 12-13 after all. Hunger strikes are not in their nature, mostly.
It's not often discussed in the U.S., but given a choice, most kids actually enjoy salads—especially when they can choose what goes into them. One of the greatest victories of my career was getting better food into our cafeteria. It took years of collaboration to undo the "efficiencies" that left our students eating mostly simple carbs and sugar, then wondering why they couldn’t focus.
Salads.
Leaving Paris: Discovering the Heart of Rural France
Our true adventure began once we left Paris behind and headed for Auvergne, where we spent six transformative weeks on a farm, discovering not just the country but also the peaceful depths of la France profonde.
Bertrand and Lorraine, our hosts, were wonderful and enthusiastic about their region, eager to show us its many hidden treasures. When we arrived in the tiny town of Felines, they joked that there had been a population explosion—the town of 20 now had 22 people, thanks to us.
Although there was a farm to maintain, their approach to the work was manageable. We harvested fruits and flowers, made jams, breads and herbal teas. We also spent our days exploring the area, learning about foraging for wildflowers and herbs, and discovering what our hosts were growing on the farm. Bertrand introduced us to the local flora and traditional farming practices, guiding us through the slow rhythms of life in the countryside. Lorraine was an expert not only on medicinal plants and foraging, but on the recipes and uses of many different plants.
Auvergne itself is a magical place, full of volcanoes, small towns, and religious sites perched in stunning locations. It is one of the least populated regions in France's empty diagonal, but its beauty is undeniable. For us, this trip wasn’t about living in France—it was a retreat, a breath of fresh air away from the intensity of our lives in the US. The peace and quiet were in stark contrast to Brooklyn, and it was everything that we needed just then.
It felt like a long exhale from the noise and bustle of the city, although we’d had an amazing time in Paris.
Designing the grant
One of the most valuable aspects of the FFT grant is that it empowers teachers to design personalized programs based on what they believe will most benefit their students. It stands out as one of the few funding opportunities that truly respects educators’ insights, trusting them to decide how to best enhance their teaching practices. Despite the grant amount being between $5,000 and $10,000, it provides ample support to achieve meaningful educational goals.
When I began crafting my proposal, focusing on the history of culinary arts and developing a farm-to-table experience seemed like a natural fit. My work as a cooking teacher had already transformed both my teaching and my students' learning experiences, pushing me to innovate, despite the logistical and technical challenges. It was a space where my students thrived.
Before submitting the grant, I engaged in conversations with my students about where they wanted to learn from and which cultures they were curious to explore. With France’s deep ties to farming and its rich culinary heritage, it became the ideal place to draw lessons that I could bring back to enrich our classroom.
We would create a French-inspired cooking program where students would grow vegetables and then make their own recipes. They would design their menus around the food that they could actually grow where they were living. The lessons that would come out of that was incredible, before we even got the grant.
I never expected them to actually fund it. I mean, paying for me and my wife to go to Paris, travel around the country, and eat amazing food? And someone else is footing the bill? Absolutely—sign me up!
Hey! Thanks so much for reading!
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K