Welcome to this months notes and postcards

Just a reminder; this post may say ‘too long for email’ and be truncated. If you click on “View entire message” you will be able to view the whole post. If you want to listen instead of read this piece, at the very top of the post on Substack click on the cheese triangle. That will automatically play the post for you.

Hope this finds you well. I’ve gone from wanting to live in the fridge to craving Autumn food. Looking back through photos for this post and peering out at the rain coming down on the river Lea, it’s difficult to picture bowls of ice cold chilled soups and sitting in front of a fan all day.

Before I go any further, I’m excited to talk about the event I’ll be doing in September; a talk at The Cookbook Shop, Edinburgh with Emily Cudderford, . It’s sold out, but there may be a wait list. We’ll be talking about who grows the ingredients that go into our food, why it’s important to trust and support small scale producers, and the difference they make; not least for the bread Emily makes. The talk will be recorded for future sharing on Substack.

Environment and food news

Here we go again; that balanced commentator William Sitwell has used his position on The Telegraph to have another go at Labour over farming because the DEFRA minister apparently felt faint in a meat processing plant. For all we know, Stephen Morgan MP might just have been adjusting to the drop in temperature. I’m not saying that Labour have been perfect re. their support for farmers, because clearly, they have not. What has any government done for farming? Going back fifty years, the Conservatives brought in CAP; Subsidies rewarded scale; larger farms bought out smaller ones. Previously, the Agriculture Act 1947 under Clement Attlee's Labour government had protected smaller farms through state-backed "deficiency payments" rather than pure land scale. Under Thatcher and Major, Conservative governments oversaw the peak era of overproduction driven by CAP subsidies. Industrial consolidation accelerated rapidly, giving rise to the "get big or get out" phrase across the British countryside. And so it goes on. No government is perfect. 1

Environment and food news

The underground farmers seeking a solution to the food crisis. I’m assuming they use a closed loop recycling system for water, but the article fails to mention water use.

Yet another call for more home grown fruit and vegetables

The gentrification of Queensway Market

Monsanto gifted seeds to Haiti; Haiti burnt them:

Love through Food

From Yuka, the story of the lawsuits filed against them. Together with Foodwatch and the French Cancer League, they launched a petition calling for a ban on added nitrites in processed meats. Within six months, they were hit with three lawsuits. In total, the meat industry was seeking €1.4 million in damages, at a time when Yuka’s annual profit was only about €20,000. Yuka won.

First 100% British chocolate bar since 1932 made in Reading

The dirty secrets of what really happens to donated charity shop clothes

Are these the greatest ice lolly wrappers ever?

On Substack

May their wheels always turn

Theodore Whyte

Jerusalem's Ever Spinning Wheels

It is basically a corner-shop. There are KitKats and loo roll – and it is small and on the corner of a quiet backstreet. But this sandstone building is in Old Jerusalem, so it is also a kind of living museum. In the back room, beyond the bleach and bulgur wheat, is a small factory making tahini in the traditional way…

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3 months ago · 3 likes · 2 comments · Theodore Whyte

The perfect response

Notes from Emiko’s Kitchen

“Japanese curry is the worst curry in the world"

“I’m not sure that seaweed, for example, is food…

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25 days ago · 745 likes · 150 comments · Emiko Davies

Cooking and Eating

Csons in Ludlow is terrific. They also have branches in Shrewsbury and Hereford.

Also on the August menu;

Frozen raspberries, mulberry granita, soft cooked beans, anchovies, tomatoes, black olives. Water melon. Corn on the cob. Gazpacho. Roast plum sorbet. Salt beef & new potatoes.

An afternoon of preserve making; plum and vanilla, spiced fig chutney from a recipe, fig jam, greengage jam, greengage and calendula jelly, plum jelly with star anise, cinnamon and rum. No recipes for the jams; we went with what we thought would be great pairings.

In season

Radishes, sweet corn, spring onions, blackberries. Garlic, new potatoes, salad leaves. aubergines, beetroot, courgettes and summer squash, runner beans, cucumbers, tender herbs, tomatoes, sunflowers, dahlias. Plums, apples, pears, cob nuts, walnuts. Winter squash are already in evidence too. Autumn is rapidly approaching.

Growing

If you ever have a chance to grow Armenian Yard Long cucumbers, do it. They’re delicious, quite unlike any other variety I’ve ever tried to grow, pale green, ribbed, heavy and sweet. Most beds are now protected against foxes, cats and squirrels who’ve had mad parties after we’ve left, digging everything up.

Who knows what this is? Answers below please!

I defy you not to smile at this from The Spooky Men’s Chorale

Only Murders In The Building boss says Queen Camilla almost filmed a cameo I’m just excited to hear they’re filming the next series in London with great guest artists.

Viewing

British library

We were going to go to see the exhibition on aging at The Wellcome Centre. I forgot it’s closed on Mondays, so instead, we went to see the books on display at The British Library and I can’t think why I’ve never been before. That’s Jane Austin’s writing with the glasses.

That’s it from me for now. I’m going to be travelling so no email or post from me next Sunday. I’ll see you in two weeks. A quick taste of the next piece;

If you’re in the UK I wish you a wonderful bank holiday weekend. I’m going to be on a night train up to Scotland; I don’t alway love the lack of sleep but oh, the journey, waking up in a new destination.

Thank you as ever for supporting me, for your comments and feedback and reading my pieces.

x

Cheryl

Thank you for reading and being here. It’s much appreciated. Please do click on the heart to like, share and forward to friends and family.

A cup of coffee would be lovely, thank you 😊 or…please consider becoming a paid subscriber and supporting the work I put into every piece. If you would like to support me even further; upgrade to a paid subscription but PLEASE do it from your browser, not from the Substack app. Apple show a price of £75 instead of my regular £50 per year.

x Cheryl

Share Queen of Markets

I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t transfixed by gages. Spellbound by their plump green luminosity. Each sphere a carrying case for the promise of sweet juicy flesh, ready to burst.

They’re the end of school holidays. Paper bags, fruit stones on pavements, a trail to get home by, or projected into the long grass whilst we lie on our backs cloud watching. Kitchen table, pastry and pie crusts in enamel tins, stubby knives easing out stones and wasp or moth infested fruit onto a piece of newspaper.

We should be harvesting our greengage tree. As I write, they’ve been and gone, green ghosts that hovered for a split second before being taken. Last year our tree was fenced off, protected. We harvested kilos of them, to eat raw, turn into a spectacularly good greengage and calendula jelly, greengage and almond cakes, greengage tart tatin. Apart from the deep velvet of a damson, there isn’t a plum I look forward to as much. That they are not well known adds to their specialness. As with many other fruits, I love that their names roots them in time and place from Merton Gage (London) to the more familiar Cambridge gage.

Every time I see a recipe for plums in a magazine, the variety they use are the year round, flown in tennis ball sized monsters that taste of nothing. I don’t blame them; to feature a recipe for plums in July, I imagine they’re being photographed three or four months beforehand. I used to get calls all the time; can we get cherries in December, apricots in March, fresh peas in October. No, no and thrice no. And greengage season, like cherries or gooseberries has its prime.

When I moved into my current flat, before I’d unpacked all my boxes, I did two things. I joined my local rowing club, and I made Nigel Slaters’ plum and almond cake, using a punnet of greengages I’d brought with me.

More than simply sweet, greengages have a complex flavour; . A gage has a taste that’s like no other plum, fragrant, flowery, deeply satisfying. Their sweetness can be honey like, without being cloying, a hint of acidity balancing the overall flavour. So why are they so rare? The trees aren’t always as prolific, their harvest can be sporadic and their season is short, but exceptionally sweet.

Last week at a greengrocers I spotted some gages and asked the price; the man paused for a second before telling me; you can have them for nothing. Whether it was because he didn’t know what they were, or no-one was buying them, or they were going off, I don’t know. I was cheeky enough to ask if I could take a few more. Yesterday I spotted them outside an Iranian greengrocers, labelled as green plums.

In the 16th century, Queen Claude, the wife of Francis 1, loved them so much that she had several trees planted at her Chateau in Blois in the Loire Valley, hence the French name, Reine Claude. Happy am I if I’m in France during Reine Claude season.

According to Ashridge Nursery, the trees were spread from Armenia in Medieval times and were brought to France in the early 1500's. The first record of them in Britain is from 1629, when they were brought from Italy and known as Verdocchia, but plum stones resembling Reine Claude were found in the wreckage of the Tudor Mary Rose which sank in 1545.

English botanist Sir William Gage (1657-1727) gave the plums his name in England c. 1725.

Gages aren’t just green; they’re yellow, occasionally purple, blushed with red, even transluscent. Keepers Nursery in Kent lists forty-six varieties and I want at least six for my fantasy walled garden and orchard. How to resist the Lindsey Gage, described as being ‘one of the sweetest and tastiest of the greengages with a slight rosewater perfume’ or the Reine Claude Rosee, ‘a sweet greengage with a pink flushed skin.’

Gages aren’t as well known outside of the UK and France, although the Jefferson Gage was discovered in the USA back in 1830 and the famous Portuguese sugar plum, Elvas plums are made from greengages.

Their intense flavour lends itself to both sweet and savoury recipes, fabulous cakes and crumbles, and delicious chutney. Greengage curd has been on my to make list for a long time, rippled through ice cream. Right now I’m craving a greengage cobbler, the craggy scone topping, toppling steaming into the collapsing plum crevices below and a generous spoonful of creme fraiche or clotted cream. If you’re lucky enough to have a glut, they freeze very well. And ofcourse, plums are a fruit all the better for being eaten ice cold cold from the fridge.

As I was putting the final touches to this piece, Rainy Day Greengages popped into my Substack path with lovely ideas for this special fruit (greengage vinegar, greengage, fennel and beetroot gazpacho.)

CELIA by Sally Gurteen

Rainy Day Greengages

I know it’s a bit ‘broken record’ but, man, it’s exciting when the next beautiful thing pops into season so I can begin another year of documenting it. The glorious greengage has actually been a bit neglected in my notes because I’m too quick to eat them and record the what and the how. Not today though. The rainiest late August Saturday that whispered …

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2 years ago · 8 likes · 1 comment · Sally Gurteen

If you see greengages, don’t hesitate. Buy them! Look out for them at farmers’ markets, farm shops, and greengrocers.

First salad; Infant school

Inside the glass fronted lunch hall, we took out places in the queue, quietly, or witha brave volume, depending upon which teacher was on duty. What’s on my plate today?

A slice of golden crusted, egg centred gala pie, beetroot dice and a sprig of sprightly watercress.

What’s in a salad, how do we define it?

salad(n.)

late 14c., salade, “raw herbs cut up and variously dressed,” from Old French salade (14c.) and Medieval Latin salata, both from Vulgar Latin *salata, literally “salted,” short for herba salata “salted vegetables” (vegetables seasoned with brine, a popular Roman dish), from fem. past participle of *salare “to salt,” from Latin sal (genitive salis)1

sal; salad; salami; salary; saline; salmagundi; salsa; salsify; salt

My first salad memory; earthy, sweet beetroot, tangy, spicy, crunchy watercress.

At home we didn’t have mayonnaise or French dressing. We had salad cream and an oil free dressing composed mostly of sugar, water and vinegar on a mixed salad of lettuce, cucumber, tomato, radishes and spring onions. If we had a selection of salads, with cold meat for example, these would be; home made coleslaw (never onion), a tin of sweetcorn, and sometimes a tin of three bean salad. Occasionally if there were leftovers, potato salad with spring onions and salad cream.

My infant school salad stands out because watercress is so rare. Try to find a bunch of real watercress; often the bags sold by supermarkets hold sprigs of watercresss without any pepperiness or crunch to them. Watercress should bite back. An egg and watercress sandwich from Marks and Spencer is a disappointment, the watercress leaves sad and indistinct. I can still picture that sprig of watercress on my plate, and the tiny, even beetroot dice.

Salad two; The Beverley vegetarian restaurant; round about 1969

My grandmother takes us to a vegetarian restaurant. I vaguely remember that it’s in the backstreets near Selfridges, down a flight of steps to a basement space. Tofu hasn’t been discovered yet2, the menu on the mustard yellow melamine tabletop lists nut cutlets, and there are earnest men in horn rimmed glasses, drinking water whilst reading novels. We’re here for the salads. My grandmother is very fond of salads. Not the English sad salad garnish that is often an afterthought on many cafe plates. She likes the weird, the wonderful, the twisting up of ingredients and here is where they can be found.

In the film version of To Sir with Love, released in 1967, Mark Thackery teaches his East End class how to cook;

''A normal English salad...not fit for human consumption, even if you remove the slugs.
Never be afraid to experiment.
Have you ever had a salad with almonds and grapes and tomatoes and lettuce and pineapple?''

I can’t remember what we ate at The Beverley, apart from a salad containing grapes. Vegetarian restaurants were rare and the salads must have been good for us to make a pilgrimage.

You're the top
You're a Waldorf salad

^{Cole Porter}

^{I think we’re right out of Waldorfs}

^{Basil Fawlty}

Salad three; 1979, Garfunkels and Waldorf salad

My grandmother again. In 1979 the chain restaurant Garfunkels arrived in the UK. She loved to take us all there, not because the food was great, but because they had a huge and varied salad bar. This was before the era of sad. soggy pasta, undercooked crunchy rice ‘salad’ with chewy carrot, and ‘bacon’ bits. You could go up as many times as you wanted and the offerings were exciting and delicious.

Mum has a copy of Marks and Spencers salads and snacks recipe book. Some recipes somehow go way beyond expectations whilst at the same time sounding very unappetising. Ox tongue and orange salad anyone? Some we loved; a recipe for Waldorf Salad, that staple of American hotel menus. Although it dates from 1896, the Waldorf takes a very long time to become a well known fixture in the UK. 1979 is the year that an American guest unwisely asks Basil Fawlty for a Waldorf Salad.

Salad four; 1981, Cranks and Greek salad, Horiatiki.

There’s a bit of a theme here, but bear with me. The reason for all these wholesome places and salad bars is because British restaurant salads were often unimaginative. Despite the exciting offerings in recipe books, asking for a salad in a restaurant would more often than not, result in depressing disappointment. Underripe Dutch tomatoes, tasteless cucumbers and iceberg lettuce, no dressing. Onion, not spring onions, regular brown onions that bullied everything in its path into deep submission. Onion is only allowed if it’s mild and/or sweet. Even when American style restauants such as Peppermint Park opened with huge main course bowl salads, under the surface, they would often consist of two thirds lettuce.

In the 1980’s on breaks from college, Cranks would be a regular stop. Their salads varied day to day, and often featured vibrant, raw vegetables topped with seeds. An honourable mention to much missed Food for Friends on Neale Street.

I’m given a recipe folder for Christmas; looking back I note that I’ve written down a recipe for Horiatiki with a very stern instruction to use Cos lettuce and no other, even though a traditional Greek salad doesn’t contain lettuce. I seek out Kalamatra olives.

Salad five 1985; The composed salad, A La Carte, and Jean Conil

French chef Jean Conil published his Cuisine Vegetarienne Francaise, with his stylised salads featured in A La Carte magazine. The images are extraordinary. I’m seeing mache; lambs lettuce for the first time. Living in the north east of England, I’m lucky if I can get a butterhead lettuce, let alone lambs lettuce. This is a time when, asking for wet walnuts in a green grocer the man looks at me strangely and says; I can throw water over them if you like.

I could write a whole piece on Conil; the influential chef that very few people have heard about. His disgust for English cooking inspired his crusade to teach the British how to cook. He claimed that the British are extraordinarily wasteful with their food, accused almost all kitchen chefs in England of being alcoholics, and roundly criticized the food offered by Britain's major supermarket chains.3

Jean Conil talks about sprouting seeds, different salad oils, and vinegars and advises never to dress a tomato salad in advance. My salad compositions are on a different scale to his, but I’m trying my best.

Salad six; 1986, tabbuleh and fattoush

In one of those strange remaindered book shops, I find The Complete Meze Table by Rosamond Man. It introduced me to many dishes I continue to make, from Mujaddarah, to stuffed vine leaves. I learnt early on that tabbuleh is a celebration of green herbs, and that bulguar wheat should not dominate. It gave me so much joy to prepare each ingredient, see them take their turn to fill a large bowl, and share the lemon scented salad with friends. Similarly fattoush; a simple combination of textures that led me on a hunt for sumac seeds. Sumac seeds are not easy. After losing the battle, I revert to the ground up sort.

Salad seven; 1991, flowers

Making dinner for friends in our garden, an array of dishes and salads, garnished with nasturtium and caldendula petals. It looks beautiful. Hearing one Welsh accented voice wail in lilting horror; Cheryl, there’s flowers in the salad.

Salad eight; 1996, The British high tea salad returns

Simon Hopkinson revises the great British salad, publishing a recipe for his cooked salad cream dressing, a condiment that’s been in recipe books for many years but mostly left to the devices of Heinz.

I make it; home made salad cream is completely different to the bottled variety; mousse like, velvety, fluffy and not as sweet. I try to find decent cucumbers, hearts of lettuce, locally grown tomatoes, and whatever leaves I can source.

Salad nine; 1999, more flowers; hyssop and Richard Olney

It is very unlikely that anyone can find hyssop flowers in a shop in 2026, let alone in 1999. I know, I tried. The only way was to grow them myself. Ditto rocket and everything else that Olney suggested. I’m asking you to recall a time before rocket was everywhere. It was nowhere but it did grow wild; picture my excitement on finding it clinging for dear life, growing out of the walls next to Regents Canal in Islington.

Salads ten; 2000, Nigella’s Cambodian hot and sour beef salad and caponata.

Nigella Lawson’s seminal book How to Eat is published, without illustrations.

The year 2000 also marks the year I start working at London Farmers’ Markets and am introduced to a world of small scale farmers and producers from whom I can buy my ingredients. Nigella acknowleges that her Cambodian salad recipe is a slightly Anglised version of plea saj go from the South-east Asian Cookbook by Vatchcharin Bhumichitr. I’m drawn to the flavours of fresh lime, fish sauce and mint and vary the ingredients in the recipe depending upon what greens are in season at the farmers’ markets.

Also in 2000; Antonio Carluccio publishes his book on vegetables. He comes to talk to customers at one of our farmers’ markets and I love his passion for fresh, seasonal produce. From his book I make his Caponata Siciliana, still beloved, still in my repertoire with occasional variations, alongside a passion for capers.

Salad eleven; 2004, Ottelenghi introduces pomegranate seeds to salads

Ottelenghi opens on Upper St in Islington. Platters piled high with colourful vegetables drizzled with tahini dressings, root vegetables scattered with pomegranate seeds and flavoured with sumac, or orange blossom. The world is dazzled. Everyone, including myself roasts aubergines and dresses the room temperature vegetable with saffron yogurt and pomegranate seeds.

Salad twelve; 2006, Slow Food and Skye Gyngell

I was part of a group of amazing women running Slow Food London. Skye was a warm and generous supporter and as a result I found myself at her book launch in the beautiful surroundings of Petersham Nursery. Dish after dish emerged from the kitchen including one which became one of my favourite recipes to make; roast chicken and bread salad with sour cherries and roasted red onions. Even writing those words makes me want to eat it. It’s an evergreen, eternal recipe that will continue to be on my cook and repeat list.

‘‘Of all the fruit, mango is the best; of all the meats, pork is the best; of all the leaves, laphet is the best.”

Popular Myanmar expression4

Salad thirteen; 2018, the tea leaf salad (lahpet thoke in Burmese)

Tangy, pickled, fermented tea leaves have long been popular in Myanmar. Lahpet in Shoreditch popularlised it in London.

The salad, laphet-thoke, (in the Myanmar language, laphet means “fermented tea leaf” and thoke means “salad”) is described at Lahpet; ‘‘Pickled tea leaves with crispy double fried bean & peanut mix for texture; shredded cabbage, heritage tomatoes & dried shrimp, sesame, fish sauce & red chillies, dressed with lime, pickled tea & garlic oil with lime, pickled tea & garlic oil.’’

Where have you been all my life.

Salad fourteen; 2020, Thai crushed rice salad; Yum Khoa Tod

I dream of this dish, served by the wonderful Supawan Thai on Caldeonian road in North London. Their menu states; ‘‘Crispy, soft, chewy, spicy, sour, sweet and everything in between! Crushed-rice salad with coriander, peanuts, ginger, shallots, kaffir lime leaves, chillies, cha pruu leaves, and spring onion.’’

It’s one of my favourite things to eat.

Salad fifteen; 2025, Dakos and the relaxed salad plate

Dinner last night was Dakos; Cretan barley rusks topped with crumbled feta because I couldn’t find myzithra cheese, chopped ripe tomatoes, cucumber, black olives, capers, fresh oregano, and olive oil. Lunch was that summer standby, watermelon, feta and mint.

There’s always more to discover. My salad plate is diverse and fridge/season dependent.

Hard boiled eggs and anchovies. Soft cooked beans with a nicoise dressing. Grilled red peppers. Artichoke hearts. Home made coleslaw with caraway seeds. Quinoa with a mountain of herbs folded through. Room temperature puy lentils with a garlic and vinegar forward French dressing. Celeriac remoulde, Caponata. A dill heavy cucumber salad. Sliced tomatoes if it’s summer; a sprinkle of salt, a few basil leaves, slices of white peach.

In the winter; raddichio or Castelfranco, pear, blue cheese, cobnuts, or variations.

We’ve come a long way. And yet, the salad garnish continues.

What would be on your salad list?

Kew Gardens has a secret world. Tucked away near Kew Bridge is a Georgian building, the Herbarium, housing the archives and the preserved plant collections. It’s here that a team of botanists are based, busy naming, classifying and studying plants, plant ecology, and researching conservation methods and uses. It’s a fascinating place, rarely open to the public.

We may laugh nervously about avocados and mangos growing in the UK, but with Europe being the fastest-warming continent, warming more than twice as fast as the global average, it’s no joke. It’s here at the Herbarium that botanists are researching what plants are more resilient to climate change, looking for food crops that can cope with higher temperatures, what needs less water to grow.

More than ever we’re aware of water shortages, crops that are stressed and not performing in current conditions. A farmer I spoke with this week told me that their tomato harvest was a quarter of what it usually should be.

We walk into the first, the oldest building; the Herbarium dates from 1877; a galleried structure with spiralling Victorian staircases and large windows. Wooden specimen shelves housed in rows of cupboards were built by William Hooker.

The collection was founded in 1852, when Kew Gardens passed from the Crown to the State. The oldest specimens date from 1696. On display in the Herbarium is a specimen collected by Charles Darwin; a wild tomato pressing with notes in his handwriting that thrilled me to bits to see.

The Herbarium began life as the home of the Duke of Cumberland. As the collection outgrew its space, another building was added, and another. Now they’re at the stage where, unless they’re planning to build a floating building on the river Thames just behind them, they’re going to have to considerably rethink things. And perhaps, given the proximity to the river, having a basement building wasn’t the brightest idea. The last wing, the fifth was built in 2009. Around 20,000 new specimens are added and recorded every year.

Walking around, the buildings are a warren of entrances and exits; I assume that everyone new is given a map so they don’t get lost.

It’s a curious mixture of the arcane mixed with new technology. Scanning new samples alongside hand written slips for library books.

is kindly showing me around. Ang writes on Substack about her lovely allotment; in real life she works at Kew as Programme Director for their Science Transformation Programme, planning future research infrastructure for Kew’s scientists.

Each new specimen that arrives will be carefully recorded, classified, correctly stored and researched. Digitising 6.4 million plant specimens in the Herbarium has recently been completed. There’s now a digital photograph of each specimen with the metadata about its collection available via a portal on the Kew website. It’s free, and anyone can look up a specimen.

Ang tells me that they have

‘‘sampled the DNA of 96% of the 13,700 genera of flowering plants and completed the analysis of over 20,000 DNA samples to create what we call the Plant and Fungal Tree of Life (PAFTOL). There are several million specimens still to go.’’

Throughout the building as we walk round there are signs reminding staff to only eat food in the one designated room, and not to open windows. Once, Ang tells me, a squirrel got in, and the chase to remove it from the premises was a never again moment.

Herbarium curators process new specimens from Kew’s field expeditions. Arriving plant specimens are kept separate and frozen to kill any insect eggs or pests and to avoid insect contamination.

Specimens are then named, labelled and entered into the database. Mounting each specimen takes skill and time to ensure that plant features are visible. Even tiny pieces that may break off are kept in little envelopes on the mount; these are used if material is requested for DNA analysis.

Ang comments;

‘‘Most specimens housed at Kew still have microbes on the plant parts, others may have mycorrhiza on the root structures, and we haven’t yet sampled or analysed those. That’s another big job still to be done.’’

Once attached to the paper and weighted down, each sample will be frozen again, for four days. Once labelled, specimens will be digitised into the archive.

Inside are open folders, with layers of specimens. Each must be handled horizontally, carefully, like a waiter with a full tray of drinks. Every cupboard is designated, grouped by family, genus, and species. And because the cupboards are an unusual size, the paper the specimens are housed on must be made to order; known as Kew Herbarium sheets.

Specimens that are too large for paper are preserved in boxes, each made to measure.

As we walk around and Ang opens a drawer to show me the treasures within, Clare Drinkell, Curator-Botanist for Asian plants comes to say hello. She’s enthusiastic in telling me about a journey to collect samples where she had to swim ashore and watch out for sharks.

On a trip to the Chagos Islands, Clare recently found a species new to science; the holy grail of every botanist.

After she leaves Ang tells me; Clare understands the collection so well, she knows where she is from the scents emanating from the cabinet specimens.

Kew say; ‘’Each specimen is an immense source of information that can tell us what plants look like; where they are found; what environmental niche they occupy; which species are threatened with extinction; what morphological and chemical variation occurs; and, when they flower or produce seed.’‘

For many years, Kew was almost a clearing bank for moving plants around the British Empire. Once collected and brought to Kew, the question was; would this be useful for the Empire. We all know about tea, originally from China, taken to, and grown by the British in India. Rubber, native to Latin America was sent to Malaysia for British owned rubber plantations. During the colonial era, approximately 70% of the rubber plantations in Malaysia were European (mostly British) owned.

When Kew Botanists travel the world on plant collecting expeditions, collected plants are dried and pressed in the field in specially made plant presses the size of a Kew Herbarium sheet. Botanists use GP trackers so that locations can be pin point identified.

It can take years for plants to be correctly identified with botanists arguing over the tiniest details.

In terms of resilience to climate change, Britain’s two native oak species are under pressure in the UK due to the spike in temperatures, acute oak decline and environmental stress from drought. Kew botanists are researching other species of oak that could cope with higher temperatures.

Rice originally grew in wet soil, not water and Kew botanists are researching the possibilities of growing rice in soil once again. Last year, trial crops of rice were planted in the East Anglian fenlands; the first rice crops grown on UK soil. The aim; to reduce greenhouse gas emissions from peatlands that have been degraded due to agricultural use.

Sadly we couldn’t access the lab where research is taking place with lablab (hyacinth) beans. Traditional in South Asia and Sub-Saharan Africa, work is being carried out to see if these high protein beans could be a viable commercial crop.

Ang smiles as she says,

‘‘searching for answers, finding species new to science is what these folks live for, it makes them go to strange places and put up with all sorts of hardships in the field.’’

‘‘Somewhere in here’’’, she tells me as we leave, ‘‘is the cure for cancer.’’

Kew Herbarium will be 175 years old in 2027. Look out for occasional public tours of the Herbarium on the Kew Gardens website or London Open House weekend.

The Herbarium is open by appointment for academic research and study, and online access is free.

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Farming on a knife edge

It’s hard enough for farmers at the best of times. Apocalytpic weather has repercussions that stretch far into the future. On top of the drought, wild fires are horrific and heart breaking; not so long ago, farms in Spain were affected by widespread flooding. Now it’s fire. Crowd Farming sent out a message about an avocado farm in Spain that’s been destroyed.

Right now with over half of the UK under drought conditions, livestock farmers are using this year’s hay and silage to make up for poor grazing.

Farmers are facing; increased field fire risks during harvesting; farmers are doing a heroic job digging fire breaks.

Growing restrictions on water abstraction for irrigation.

Concerns about the state of soils for planting winter crops.

The NFU in England has called on the government to review planning rules to make it easier for farmers to secure short and long term additional water supplies as droughts become more common. According to Farming Life; ‘‘The response was a perfect example of how out of touch the government is with reality when it comes to farming. It simply said it had already invested £12 billion in sustainable farming practices.’’

Autumn and Winter harvests are likely to have lower yields, with some crops growing slower, smaller, or giving up trying. Grain estimates for the UK are down by 9 million tonnes since June and well down from last year’s final harvest. It’s a similar picture across Europe. Animal stress, lack of water, infrastructure costs increasing…who’d be a farmer right now.

Food prices are predicted to increase by 50% this winter.

The last time DEFRA published a farmer opinion tracker in April 2025, they stated ‘Farmers on 72% of holdings were not at all confident that changes to schemes and regulations will lead to a successful future for farming. This has remained consistently high during the lifetime of this survey.

‘Only 33% of farmers felt positive about their future in farming. 4% felt very positive.’

Farmers need to be certain that the government will strengthen resilience to climate volatility.

has written an excellent piece about the current situation.

I commented with one of my bugbears about the UK government. Over the years whenever I’ve attended large food events, Food from Wales and Scotland would have large stands promoting what they do best, showcasing the foods they’re proudest of, made in Wales, grown in Scotland. England? Nothing. What does the UK government promote? Export, export, export. I’ve written about it several times so excuse the repetition but I do think it’s important. Why is the UK government exporting tomatoes grown by UK farmers and importing tomatoes from The Netherlands? It makes no sense.

Why aren’t farmers concentrating on growing as much food as they can for the domestic market, raising animals to a higher welfare standard, instead of the UK importing what can be grown, and importing meat and poultry with a lower welfare standard. Less imports, more food security.

According to The Food Foundation, British production of fruit and vegetables has fallen 16% since 2015, and we now import 78% of our supply.

And yet, in the last year, the UK exported vegetables to the value of £192,372,177

Now is the moment to stop taking farmers for granted. Time to realise we can’t rely on imports. And; it’s also time that supermarkets stopped throwing away food rather than selling it at a cheap price at the end of the day or donating it to charities. Craig Wroe, The Food Waste Inspector on Instagram, shows up supermarkets for throwing away tons of edible food and drink every night. He’s been asking people to please sign his petition to Parliament to ban supermarkets from throwing away edible food. Please sign; it only takes a few seconds. He’s got over 100k followers on Instagram and yet only around 5,000 people have signed.

If retailers are going to demand targets to boost UK grown food, they need to pay farmers a fair price, treat them better and commit to sourcing from UK farms year round, every year.

The situation must be serious if supermarkets are taking action. A letter instigated by Sustain and The Food Foundation and signed by Tesco, Waitrose, Asda, Booths and Sainsburys, alongside business, investment, civil society, academia and the health sector has been sent to the Prime Minister, calling for A Good Food Bill.

What can we do? Support a farmer. Buy direct wherever you can, and whatever you can. Even one item can make a difference. Thank a farmer. And with that in mind, it just happens to be National Farmers’ Market week (August 2nd-8th).

Why we need a National Farmers’ Market week

You’re more likely to be aware if you’re reading this in the USA or Canada. I doubt many people in the rest of the world know about this opportunity to connect with communities, and build relationships. I’m hesitant to write about it because I know that some people will find it trivial and unimportant. I’m here to say it’s not. A full farmers’ market shop might be beyond your budget. Support is just as important one item at a time. And it’s no reason not to write about one of the best ways of supporting farmers.

First declared by the Secretary of Agriculture (USDA) under President Bill Clinton in 1999, state farmers’ market associations used it to encourage local and regional proclamations and as a marketing hook. The national non-profit Farmers’ Market Coalition took the ball and ran with it, encouraging farmers’ markets across the country to use it to encourage press coverage and connect with policy makers. They provide a toolkit to help market managers do press outreach and aligned promotion.

I asked Farmers Market Pros founder to take us through the basics.

What does NFMW stand for in terms of importance for farmers and consumers?

National Farmers Market Week is an opportunity to remind consumers of the importance of farmers markets, and an outlet for farmers and market operators to tell their stories. All of us celebrating during the same week can remind people that these local enterprises are part of a much larger national sector.

Was it difficult to get the US government to promote the first NFMW and does the USDA understand farmers’ markets and support them?

The USDA has done little more than issue an annual NFMW proclamation and they haven’t even done that since 2024. They don’t really promote NFMW.

The vast majority of the USDA’s resources are focused on commodity farmers. Their AMS (Agricultural Marketing Service) has been strong in some administrations and less so in others, and they’ve made efforts to understand farmers’ markets. They have a narrow view of how markets actually function and little oversight or authority, other than markets’ relationship to SNAP (nutrition incentives aka food stamps).

Why should people take NFMW seriously?

We should take every opportunity to amplify the strength of farmers’ markets, how essential they are to our food systems and to the financial viability of farmers.

Share a few figures with me that show the impact farmers’ markets have on local communities.

Forbes says farmers’ markets generate $3 billion in sales annually, FMC says $2+ billion - knowing as I do that farmers’ often under report I’d say it’s higher. There are also reports about adjacent economic impact.

3 key takeaways for NFMW:

Farmers’ markets are an essential link in a (currently weakened) food chain

No farms, no food (or beer, or wine for that matter)

Markets provide financial advantages that keep farmers farming and food tastes better here.

Given that there are less farmers’ markets here for people to take notice, let alone the government; any advice for the UK in setting up our own farmers’ market week?

Even a handful of farmers’ markets across the UK that banded together to align on communication and promotion could make a difference in public awareness. The challenges are the same as they are here: developing a common definition of farmers’ markets and consistent messaging, especially when doing outreach to policy makers.

If you’re in the USA, enjoy the week. We need a National Thank a Farmers Week in the UK AND a National Farmers’ Market Week. Farm24 has just ended as I write this, with shout outs from celebrities supporting farmers.

Even if you don’t have one, you can celebrate your local independent retailer whether it’s a farm shop, farmers’ market, CSA, whoever is producing on a local, small scale level and selling direct. Whilst it’s not the only answer it’s a good one. Learn about your local food system. Buy one thing if that’s as much as you can do; it all helps. Have a conversation with them; small scale, short chain selling is a lifeline, from their hands, to yours.

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Isle of Wight, without dad

Last week I took mum to the Isle of Wight, the first holiday without my dad. Actually, that’s not quite true. He came with us and sat in a photo frame by mum’s bed instead of walking around, admiring yachts and eating crab sandwiches which he would almost certainly have done.

It’s the first time I’ve had to plan a holiday and think ahead about every possible scenario. Make sure that the location was walkable, accessible. Plan the journey, booking transport assistance from the train and ferry companies who were both delightful and helpful. All the things you don’t generally think about, until, well, until you need to. A short walk for you and me, isn’t a short walk if you’re 94. But, we managed, and we had fun.

And on a round the island bus tour, a group of hotel residents got on the coach and one recognised mum. He’d spent years at antique fairs with my parents, they bought from him, and at one point he and dad shared a little space in a Portobello Road antiques arcade. How spooky is that? At our lunch stop at Isle of Wight Pearl; delicious food btw, overlooking the sea, we found out that his girlfriend Angela had been in Rhodesia at the same time as mum and also met her husband there.

I got to chat to mum about her childhood and upbringing. I’ve written something about it here; the story of a cookbooks’ journey in time. I really wanted to get to the root of her fussiness around food. Another must plan ahead on the do list; looking for restaurants and checking if there’s something she will eat.

We decided that she’s not fussy, she’s just very particular. There are so many foods we never ate, that were revealed to me after I left home. And many more that took years to acquire a taste for. If you grow up not mixing meat and dairy, you’re very unlikely to know what lasagne tastes like. Or a cheeseburger.

After lots of talking about food mum said; I don’t like cooking. That floored me a bit. And when I’d picked myself up off the ground, I thought about all those years of cooking dinner every night. Every morning; what do you want for supper. Shopping for groceries, preparing breakfast and packed lunches. Over sixty years getting out the pots and pans, thinking about food, making meals, washing up. It’s hard work at the best of times, but if you don’t like cooking; what a chore it must be. And it IS work.

The Unpaid Work

Because we’re dealing with a mountain of paperwork after dad’s death, some figures have come to light, such as the discrepency between the amount of pension mum gets, compared to dad. Because she ‘didn’t work’ she didn’t pay National Insurance contributions. It’s outrageous that women, as home workers didn’t qualify for the same level of state pension.

It’s all down to women being regarded as housewives, thanks in part to the Beveridge Report;

‘’The great majority of married women must be regarded as occupied on work which is vital though unpaid, without which their husbands could not do their paid work and without which the nation could not continue… The attitude of the housewife to gainful employment outside the home is not and should not be the same as that of the single woman. She has other duties.’‘

Hackles duly raised? A new state pension was introduced in 2016, but the majority of today’s pensioner population reached pension age under the ‘old’ system.

In 2005, just 13% of women pensioners were entitled to a full state pension, compared with 92% men.

From 1978 women who were bringing up children or looking after someone with a disability were able to benefit from a system of national insurance credits (known as ‘Home Responsibilities Protection’) which helped them to build up a pension in their own right, but the Government stopped informing people about it.

On the Island

I couldn’t write about the Isle of Wight farmers’ market because it no longer exists. It was down to about three stalls, and they called it a day earlier this year. Such a shame. There are farm shops on the Island including the famous Garlic Farm shop where you can try delicacies including garlic ice cream.

Osbourne House, Queen Victoria’s little holiday palace is lovely, and the staff were extremely helpful. Don’t miss the walled garden; (huge wall hugging espalier lemon tree full of fruit), beach or Swiss Cottage.

They have transport to take visitors between the main house, the Swiss Cottage (charming) and the private beach. Prince Albert wanted his children to know what regular people had to pay for food, so each child had an allotment, and Albert paid each one the going market rate. They leant to cook at the Swiss Cottage too.

At the beach there’s a place to buy drinks and ice cream and I assumed that it would be from the Isle of Wight but no; Northern Bloc, made in Leeds. I understand it’s probably cheaper for English Heritage to use one company for all their concessions but it would be nice if they could support local brands.

I could see the tubs being moved around whilst I was waiting, and even from a distance, it was easy to see a long list of ingredients.

I Scream

UPFs are possible to spot when you buy a packaged item. Not so easy when said item is sold loose, such as a loaf of bread, if you’re eating anywhere but home; hospitals, schools or restaurants; buying a fresh doughnut, or a scoop of ice cream. Want to know what’s in it? You’ll have the queue behind you raising eyebrows, and children looking at you with dangerously petulant lips, about to burst into a scream.

I did, eventually manage to locate the Isle of Wight ice cream company, and they too, had a long list of not so tempting ingredients.

Northern Bloc say;

‘’We didn’t set out to make ordinary ice cream with unmemorable flavours and a list of unpronounceable ingredients.

‘’We set out to create the ultimate ice cream. Pairing the usual with the unusual, applying science and craft to every new flavour. Above all we set out to create a natural ice cream, made with real ingredients that punch with flavour.

‘’So what is it about our flavours that makes makes us stand out over the riff raff of the ice cream world… Ben & Jerry’s, Magnum, Haagan Dazs, we’re looking at you. Put simply, there’s a difference between flavour and flavouring. Flavour is what our ice cream has, and each mouthful packs a punch because it’s full of the true flavour.’‘

Here’s their strawberry ice cream ingredients

MILK, cream (MILK)(13%), sugar, glucose syrup, strawberry puree (6%), strawberry sauce (5%)(strawberry puree (40%), sugar, glucose syrup, water, cornflour, concentrated strawberry juice, gelling agent (pectin), acidity regulator (citric acid), natural favouring, natural colours (anthocyanins, lutein)), skimmed MILK powder, maltodextrin, emulsifier (mono- and diglycerides of fatty acids), natural colours (beetroot red, carotenes), stabilisers (carob gum, guar gum), natural flavouring.

This is the Isle of Wight strawberry ice cream ingredient list

Milk, Sugar, Cream (Milk), Strawberry (6.4%) (Sugar, Strawberry Puree, Glucose Syrup, Water, Strawberry Juice, Acidifier: Citric Acid; Flavourings, Colours: Antocyanins, Turmeric; Thickeners: Pectin, Tara Gum), Milk Powder, Dextrose, Emulsifier: E471; Thickeners: Guar Gum, Tara Gum, Sodium Alginate, Carrageenan.

Kudos to Isle of Wight ice cream Co for supporting dairy farmers on the island. As they say; ‘In the 1970s there were over 365 dairy farmers on the Isle of Wight. Now there are less than 10.’

I’ve received my copy of Ruby Tandoh’s Ice Cream City, via and whilst I’m yet to go on an ice cream walk, it’s fascinating to read, not just Ruby’s recommendations, but the places she avoids, categorised with an upside down ice cream cone and listed as ‘department of gripes’. She has a go at Hackney Gelato calling them “as pervasive as the New York rat’‘.

My take goes beyond ubiquitious. It really gets on my nerves when ice cream or gelato is styled as artisan, handmade, fresh or pure, or as Hackney Gelato say; ‘’Made with real ingredients you can actually taste.’‘ and there’s a long list of ingredients, many of which wouldn’t be found in any kitchen. This is their strawberry and cream which isn’t as bad as some;

Fresh milk, a 10% ripple of strawberry jam (whole strawberries, sugar, glucose, lemon juice), 9% Cornish clotted cream, sugar, dextrose, double cream, skim milk powder, maltodextrin, sea salt, and standard emulsifiers and stabilisers.

Most commercial ice creams, even labels branding themselves as luxury contain stabilisers, emulsifiers, and skimmed milk powder. The former to stop the product from degrading, the latter as a bulking agent to top up milk solids.

In the UK, almost any frozen dessert can be called ice cream. There are no mandatory legal requirements specifying a minimum amount of milk solids for standard ice cream.

Coconut oil and sunflower oil might be added to supplement or partially replace milk fat. This lets the manufacturer reduce cream content and hit a target total fat percentage. Coconut oil is cheaper than cream and mimics its melting properties, whilst sunflower oil softens the texture.

With ice cream, you don’t always get what you pay for.

The one we grew up with; Walls vanilla;

Reconstituted skimmed MILK, water, glucose syrup, sugar, coconut fat, fructose, whey solids (MILK), stabilisers (guar gum, tara gum, carrageenan, locust bean gum), emulsifier (mono- and diglycerides of fatty acids), colours (annatto norbixin, curcumin), flavourings.

Haagan Daz strawberry and cream;

Fresh Cream (35.1%), Condensed Skimmed Milk, Strawberries (21.1%), Sugar, Egg yolk

M&S vanilla;

Whole Milk, Double Cream (Milk) (34%), Demerara Sugar, Dried Skimmed Milk, Pasteurised Egg, Dark Brown Sugar, Madagascan Vanilla Extract, Ground Madagascan Vanilla Pod

One of my favourite brands Alder Tree make the most delicious flavours including damson, blackcurrant, and gooseberry and elderflower. Their strawberry ice cream ingredients are; Strawberries (38.4%), cream (MILK) (38.4%), sugar.

Call me a spoil sport; if you want your 99 from a seaside ice cream van, go ahead, don’t let me stop you from enjoying it. You’re on holiday. I like the choice, I like knowing what I’m buying and eating and having the option to make a decision even if, sometimes it’s better not knowing.

Twenty drag queens, superwoman and assorted men and women in rainbow coloured lycra

It’s not often I exit a tube station and bump into twenty drag queens, superwoman and assorted men and women in rainbow coloured lycra. I’d picked a time to see a theatre matinee without registered what day it was. Whilst the theatre was getting ready to open its doors, we had a front row seat at the barriers for London Pride, just in time to see the armed forces march past in all their grinning glory. When the theatre performance ended at 5pm, the parade was still going on. Joyous, colourful, celebratory. I bet the after parties were fabulous.

Environment and food news

High temperatures give farmers different issues to face. Earlier and lower yield harvests. Those with greenhouses and tunnels are finding themselves picking at dawn in order to avoid peak heat. Other farmers are facing a new battle; rooks.

Martin Fermor of Perry Court farm in Kent told me that because the local river and water sources have dried up, the birds are literally flocking to get their liquids by pecking at whatever fruit they can find. A rookery can be around fifty nests, sometimes many more and they will descent together. Apart from using auditory alarms or having a number of hawk kites dotted around, there’s not much farmers can do about them. The clever corvids will continue to return. Martin is predicting a smaller top fruit harvest this year.

The public face of a revolt by about 50 Michelin-starred chefs against what they call the production of “soulless volumes” of food rather than “sustainable agriculture that creates real wealth”.

From Sustain; three things we took from Groundswell

How does the UK reverse the troubling increase in chicken consumption? Industry always blames consumers; you want 2 million tons of cheap chicken, this is what we have to do.

According to The BBC; ‘The number of chicken shops rose 7.2% year‑on‑year, the fastest growth across the fast food sector, compared to 1.7% for other takeaways, according to data from analytics firm Meaningful Vision, which tracks the UK food industry.

‘And the customers tend to be young. In 2025, 52% of Gen Z fast food consumers and 47% of millennial fast food consumers reported having eaten from a chicken shop in the past year, compared with 39% of all fast food consumers, according to data from market research firm Mintel.’

Schools, hospitals, hospitality; reduce the use of chicken. Increase plant based, more beans, pulses, vegetables. Less fried chicken, more baked potatoes!
We do not need more factory farms. Will the new Secretary of State for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs listen?

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On Substack

Not sure I like the new advertorial format on Substack; what do you think?

Things Worth Knowing with Farrah Storr

Inside the life of a 47-year old executive & writer

This week’s post is free thanks to Dove and the new Dove Whole Body Deodorant Range which you can find here…

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2 months ago · 97 likes · 12 comments · Farrah @Substack

writes beautifully about the small, daily reminders of people and times past; possessions that make her heart sing.

The Delicious Bits Dispatch

These foolish things

To everyone new here, welcome. I’m Elizabeth, the writer of The Delicious Bits Dispatch, a weekly missive for the curious, blending discovery, reflection, and musings, always wrapped up with a seasonal recipe worth lingering over…

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a month ago · 42 likes · 28 comments · Elizabeth Pizzinato

In season

Radishes, sweet corn, spring onions, currants, strawberries, blueberries, gooseberries, apricots, blackberries. Garlic, new potatoes, salad leaves. Artichokes, aubergines, peas, beetroot, courgettes and summer squash, French and runner beans, cucumbers, basil and lots of fresh herbs, tomatoes, sunflowers, dahlias. Cherries are going, plums are in.

Growing

First tomatoes, first French and Kew blue beans harvested. Cucumbers, mulberries, lots of basil, beetroots and the first early apples that tumbled off the tree. The first of our aubergines are swelling on the plants. Melons have been repotted, more seeds sown for the Second Spring to make sure we have enough to harvest come winter; perennial kale, more spinach, collard greens, the last of the beetroot, chard, dill and coriander.

Cooking

The bright red cherries I posted on notes a few weeks ago got over 300 likes; was it the colour? Or the fact that they’re Morello cherries, a rare sight here in the UK. A text from a lovely friend; would I like to go cherry picking? What a silly question; where’s my basket and sun block.

We came back from Maynards, loaded with sweet cherries, Morellos and a tray of blackcurrants. A few people have said they’ve had difficulty finding blackcurrants. Try farm shops, farmers’ markets, or have a look at the Farm Retail Association index; you may have to call up a few to find them. Maynards grow for Ribena; surely all blackcurrants aren’t destined for the same market?! I asked a few farmers’ market colleagues around the UK; some markets had them, others didn’t. It seems that the harvest is down due to extreme weather conditions.

Some of the morellos and blackcurrants were destined for shrubs, the rest for jam. The apricot shrub was courtesy of the lovely who invited me to come and help pick fruit from her loaded apricot tree.

Eating

In honour of the neopolitan ice cream bricks of the 1970s, I wanted to make my own semifrodo version. It was too hot to be bothered with three layers, apart from working out the measurements for one tins worth. I made a strawberry and basil layer and rebelled against cooking down the fruit because I wanted to keep it fresh. I also didn’t take out the basil leaves hence the little green worms. Next time, the strawberry will be reduced to a puree to avoid icy lumps, or I’ll think about a strawberry and basil curd or I’ll find a way to macerate the basil and remove it. The pistachio layer was perfect.

Leftover blackcurrants with thick greek yogurt for breakfast; bliss.

Golden beetroot, feta and herbs

A dinner of leftovers; rice sauted until crispy, a few pieces of smoked fish, chilli crisp, cucumber, soft herbs; it was going to be a bowl dinner until I found the pack of nori. A joy to eat.

After meeting up with at Walthamstow farmers’ market, I made the recipes I posted; her beetroot borani, with the beetroot you can see in the picture, more soft blush than vibrant ruby, and her Georgian Summer salad; strawberries and tomatoes with capers, basil, taragon and sunflower seeds. Both delicious and perfect for a heat wave.

Viewing

Henry Moore; Monumental Nature at Kew Gardens

The sculptures are scattered throughout the gardens. Until 31 January 2027

Thank you for reading and being here. It’s much appreciated. Please do click on the heart to like, share and forward to friends and family.

IF you are ever generous enough to want to upgrade to a paid subscription PLEASE do it from your browser, not from the Substack app. I’ve just discovered that Apple showed a price of £75 instead of my regular £50 per year.

A cup of coffee would be lovely, thank you 😊 or…please consider becoming a paid subscriber and supporting the work I put into every piece.

x Cheryl

Share Queen of Markets

A short interlude on a hot day; this piece came out of one of ’s writing prompts for his Abundance Writing Group Gathering. I thank him for all his wonderful comments, I wish I had recorded them to listen to each time I have a bad day. Thank you Mark for all the praise and thank you to everyone else who read beautifully including , and , I’m sorry I wasn’t quick enough to write down everyone who shared.

Here’s the piece. It sparked from a conversation with about melons and Mark’s prompt; In the beginning.

In the beginning was the honeydew melon, said the Lord.

It sat, quietly complicit, an in-joke, an inward facing smirk.

Honeydew melons are the prize poker players of the fruit world. In a police interview they would give nothing away, not even a ‘no comment’. Their vivid yellow surface, occasionally marked with lacy brown patches where they’d laid on the ground tells us nothing about what lies within. They’re not just poker faces; they’re a gamble, a never give a sucker an even break. The fair ground chancer, all loud suit and darting eyes.

When a knife pierces the heart of a honeydew, it gives a satisfying crack as it yawns open to reveal the flesh. If you’re lucky, a sigh of relief - a slight blush of honied scent; the flesh will be sweet and dense. Unlucky; the flesh is disappointingly mealy, with a sad sweet undertone. What can you do with mealy melon? Throw it away or eat it, depressingly slowly, with ginger and powdered sugar as approved by my grandparents.

Honeydew melon is forever on the memory menu at my Grandmothers’ dining table. Segments cut and separated into wedges, one to the right, one to the left, the centre speared with a wavy slice of orange and a glacé cherry on a cocktail stick. It was de rigueur, the doyen of stainless steel tablewear 1970’s restaurants, the kind that have fruit juice in dinky glasses as a starter (grapefruit, orange, tomato, the former always teeth achingly tart).

Somehow, her melon was always sweet; or is it my memories. Never enough, I always wanted more.

Honeydew melons were bred for fools and Jewish mothers. Never quite fashionable, honeydew endures on Friday night tables, on Sunday lunch sideboards, refusing to disappear. Invited to lunch by two elderly ladies I worked with, I was carefully presented with a slice of honeydew; and an indescribably teeny, tiny silver fork. How does one eat a piece of melon with a fork? They watched me as I tried to keep the conversation going and their faces on mine, as the fork tines scratched the surface and I declared it delicious but too much.

Were there any other melons available? Not that we knew of. I don’t remember watermelon, Galia, Charentais; these came later, much later, after I’d read Gertrude Stein and learnt that honeydew melons tease and flirt. They whisper behind your back about their sacred origins and dare you to scorn them. Gertrude Stein knew all about the honeydew; Alice B. Toklas despised it.

On Friday nights, it’s as if honeydew had been sanctified by the Beth Din. Thou shalt only eat honeydew melons and no other. And don’t forget the glacé cherry.

Welcome back, and a big welcome if you’ve subscribed to my Substack this week. If you haven’t read last weeks’ piece, an interview with food writer here’s the link. Today I’m posting two seasonal recipes from her book, Silk Roads.

At Walthamstow farmers’ market we’d noticed a pile of beetroot and carrot tops, discarded because customers didn’t want them. Anna and I thought; free food. If you see something similar at your local market; ask if you can take them. If you don’t, they won’t go to waste; chances are they’ll be composted back at the farm or used as rabbit food.

Beetroot Borani makes use of the whole beetroot from root to leaf and is all the more delicious for it. If you can only find beetroots without their leaves, it’s worth asking at your nearest farmers’ market, or green grocers for unwanted tops.

Recipe Credit: Silk Roads: A Flavour Odyssey with Recipes from Baku to Beijing by Anna Ansari. DK RED

Photos: Laura Edwards

No-Waste Beetroot Borani (Iranian Yogurt Dip)

Serves 4–8 as a dip

Borani laboo and borani esfanj are two of the most beloved Iranian yogurt preparations, the former made with beetroot and the latter with spinach. This is my ode to them, as well as to my commitment to kitchen waste reduction, making excellent use of those gorgeous beetroot stalks and leaves you often find attached to the divisively delicious, incredibly nutritious earthy orbs and which, sadly, often find their way to the bin.

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 onion, very thinly sliced into half-moons
7oz (200g) beetroot leaves and stalks, leaves roughly chopped, stalks finely chopped
1 garlic clove, minced
2 teaspoons dried mint
9oz (250g) cooked beetroot, coarsely grated
13oz (375g) Greek yogurt
½ teaspoon fine sea salt
Zest and juice of 1 lime

To serve (optional)
Pistachios
Flaky sea salt
Mint leaves

1. Heat the oil in a large saucepan over a medium heat. Once hot, reduce the heat to low, add the onion, and cook for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally, until golden brown. Add the beetroot stalks, garlic, and 1 teaspoon of the dried mint. Cook for a further 5 minutes, stirring frequently to prevent any burning. Add the beetroot leaves and cook for 3–5 minutes more, or until the leaves are soft and wilted. Set aside to cool.

2. In a medium bowl, combine the grated beetroot with the yogurt, salt, lime juice, and half the lime zest. Stir to mix well. When the onion and beetroot leaf/stalk mixture is cool, add this to the bowl and stir to mix everything together, before moving the bowl to the refrigerator. Chill for at least 1 hour so the flavours can come together.

3. Just before serving, sprinkle the borani with the last of the dried mint and lime zest. If you like, top it off with some pistachios and flaky sea salt, and garnish with some fresh mint leaves.

I asked Anna; if you could think of a recipe to make right now, what would it be and without hesitation she said; ‘‘My Georgian tomato salad; it’s tomatoes, strawberries, tarragon, basil, capers, some sunflower seeds a, little bit of sea salt. I don’t make it, except for this time of year, because; the ingredients. It’s tomato season combined with strawberry season. It’s the perfect Summer salad.’’

She’s right. Tomato season is now in the UK. Obviously we can buy tomatoes year round in supermarkets but they will never be a patch on the varieties coming into season from local growers July onwards. Buy the best locally grown tomatoes you can, and don’t store them in a fridge. The same goes for strawberries; keep them at room temperature and eat asap.

A Georgian Summer Salad

Serves 4–6 as a side

There are few things I love as much as a good, ripe tomato or a perfectly sweet, juicy strawberry. And there are few salads I love as much as this one.

I visited Georgia for the first time in early June, when the country’s tomatoes had just come into season. Strawberries had also just begun to make their appearance at Tbilisi’s Dezerter’s Bazaar and, undoubtedly, at similar markets around the country.

As I took in the sight of the mountains of berries and piles of tomatoes, my eyes widened and my mouth watered in anticipation of the meals and dishes that I imagined (not incorrectly) I would enjoy over the course of my stay in Sakartvelo – the native name for the country we know in English as Georgia.

Tarragon, I learned, is used with delightful abandon in Georgian cuisine; basil is omnipresent too. Nearly every meal I enjoyed that trip featured raw tomatoes, along with pickled jonjoli, a native edible green whose English name, “bladdernut”, means less to me than its Georgian one does. We can’t get jonjoli in the UK or US; the closest we can come is capers. And the closest we can come to a taste of Georgian summer in the UK or the US is this salad.

400–500g (14oz–1lb 2oz) strawberries, thinly sliced lengthways

500g (1lb 2oz) mixed ripe tomatoes (large ones cut into full circles or chunky wedges, smaller ones quartered or halved)

10g (1⁄4oz) fresh basil leaves, finely chopped

10g (1⁄4oz) fresh tarragon leaves, finely chopped

2 tbsp capers

1 tbsp raw sunflower seeds

raw, unfiltered sunflower oil or high-quality olive oil, for drizzling

flaky sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

Combine the berries, tomatoes, herbs, and capers in a large bowl.

Just before serving, top your salad with the sunflower seeds and then give it a good drizzle of the oil, along with a generous pinch of sea salt and a few cracks of black pepper.

Next week; an interlude with melon. See you then!

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If you’re new here, welcome to Queen of Markets. I write about food through the lens of where it comes from and how it gets to us — the farm, the market, the supply chain, history, the seasonal reality. I write about class and access and what we choose to eat and why. I write about what's wrong with how Britain feeds us. I write about food memory, stories, and journeys and how food divides, consumes and chains us together.

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comes joyfully towards me, smiling broadly, shopping list in hand.

Walthamstow farmers’ market has been in the centre of Walthamstow since 2007 and Anna is a seasoned shopper, ready to buy.

I’m used to people wanting to meet early at markets, but Anna has a reason for this midday start. Her son has hockey practice in the morning.

‘’We tend to go to hockey, get a coffee, get a pastry, and then come to the farmer’s market.’‘

The debut author of Silk Roads— A Flavour Odyssey with Recipes from Baku to Beijing, Anna is an Iranian-American former New York international trade and customs attorney. She has a background in Asian studies, including an MA in East Asian Studies from Yale University.

If you read Silk Roads, you’ll see how fascinated Anna is by the way flavours, and ingredients move across borders. She focuses on the crossroads of family, food and history, the immigrant experience and foods of the Asian continent.

Here we are, far from Samarkand, in East London.

There’s still plenty of produce; Herbal Haven are here today with their in the round display of tempting pot herbs, but we’re beginning at Wild Country Organics where Anna has examined her shopping list, spotted courgettes en fleur and pounces.

‘’I did not plan on getting the courgette with the flowers, but I’m definitely going to.’‘

How does Anna shop at the market?

‘’I do a little menu planning for the whole week in general, my husband and I sit down and figure out who’s going to be home when. Then I can plan a menu, and I come up with what I need to get. And hopefully can get most of it here.’‘

She takes the last bunch of chives and passes over the beautiful stripy aubergines because ‘’Unfortunately, no one in my house will eat aubergine. So there’s no point in me trying to buy those. I mean, I will eat it. But nobody else will.’‘

It’s the same with beetroot; Anna says sadly ‘’they won’t eat beets’‘ and immediately I exclaim; ‘’No pink soup.’‘

‘’No pink soup’‘ she agrees. ‘’I love a beet but they won’t touch it.’‘

Instead she buys salad leaves, a big bag of fresh basil, and padron peppers. The WCO guy notices us looking at them and informs us that most of them are hot. Now, usually, padron peppers are the Russian roulette of the vegetable world. Perhaps one in ten will be hot, but these, he informs us; they’re all hot. Not blow your head off, but, still; hot. And we’re intrigued; is it the variety? Have they been planted close to hot peppers? No and no. There is no reason they can think of.

Anna and I love these kind of interactions that give you more than just the ingredient. He’s asked us if we know about the courgette flowers and gives us his recipe for stuffing them which includes anchovy and feta.

Cucumbers are also on Anna’s list, she selects some baby ones and a bag of land cress.

‘’Will you adapt that list depending on what’s here?’‘

‘’Oh yes. I’m seeing the artichokes. I’m going to get artichokes too.’‘

‘’This farmers’ market’s one of the reasons I wanted to move to Walthamstow eight years ago. When I found out there was an actual farmers’ market, that’s another selling point on this otherwise wonderful neighbourhood but it’s true. I tell people sometimes that I go to the farmers’ market and they’re like; what farmers’ market, do you mean the high street market. No, the Sunday farmers’ market.’‘

Produce in basket, we’re walking through the market. Onto Hook and Son’s stall for unpasteurised milk, where Steve Hook is talking about buttermilk, supermarket butter, and supermarket yogurt and I think about the piece in Silk Roads on the origins of the word yogurt. He shows us one of his jars of yogurt and asks us to guess how many ingredients. Milk.

I quote from Silk Roads; ‘’at some point in my young adulthood I learned to love markets’‘ and ask Anna; do you remember what the lightbulb moment was.

‘’The market that I remember first taking photos of and being like ‘this is so cool’ was a market in Yunnan in China, maybe in 2005/2006 because I remember being in that market and being like this is fun, and I just wanted to chat with all the vendors; I think my Mandarin was good enough at that point in time where I could have these fun conversations where it wasn’t just about the food it was about talking to the people.’‘

Two chicken breasts from Pastures farm poultry and we’re done. Time to sit down.

As a food writer, does Anna have a strategy for shopping at markets?

‘’I think you should look for what really attracts you personally, visually.

‘’For instance, those gorgeous speckled purple aubergines, they looked so visually appealing. I was like, I want to take that home with me. I want to eat that. I want to cook. That kind of visual appeal to you personally is a good way of approaching something.

‘’If you like the way something looks, maybe you want to buy it and cook it.

‘’But also the guy telling us that the padron peppers were spicy. If you can talk to people, I think that’s a helpful thing to sort of know.

‘’For my mother-in-law, if that gentleman had told her those are spicy, she was not going to buy them.

‘’You have a conversation with the vendor, the farmer to know about what you’re about to eat. I think in general chatting with people is great.’‘

How do food markets inspire her writing and cooking?

‘’If you look at what’s available and see not only what appeals to you visually but what is there, for instance seeing a lot of those carrot tops today I really was like oh shoot I need to make some carrot top pesto. Just seeing it right there; oh what can I use this for.

‘’Letting your creativity combine with your visual clues from the market to inspire what makes its way onto your plate.

‘’Those baby courgettes; you want to eat those raw I’m going to mandolin them very thinly put them into a salad today. That was not my plan for the salad for dinner tonight until I saw them there. It’s being flexible it’s also like just pay attention to what’s in front of you and use it.’‘

‘’These guys (the flowers) are gonna be battered and fried.’‘

I’m curious to know if any farmer or producer changed Anna’s perspective about food.

‘’Calder Dairy Farm in Michigan where I grew up going to, and I still am friends with the family. Nobody knows where milk and butter comes from.

‘’If you go to a farm, you’re going to probably see rows of vegetables. It’s a rare thing to actually go to a dairy farm and watch the milk come out of the cows, watch the bottling process and the butter churning. That really affected me. I go and I take my son there.

‘’He doesn’t like the ice cream; too creamy. It’s, like, the purest thing.

‘’Calder’s was a big, big influence on me in my life.’‘

One of the reasons I feel such an affinity to Anna is her passion for ingredients; their story and origins.

Each chapter in Silk Roads is headed by an essay about an ingredient, from melons, through yogurt to spinach.

When Anna writes about melons, I’m there with her, and there’s more than a semblance of personal pride and heritage. Does Anna feel these histories are not told enough?

‘’Oh, 100%. They’re not told enough at all. Even the fact that I can have a note talking about how spinach made its way across Asia. I love that I get to do that because by the way, I didn’t know that until I was researching the book. I literally exclaimed out loud. These are stories that are not told. It’s important for me to be able to share that these ingredients have a history, and they have a history of migration and evolution across time and space that we don’t know about.

‘’I also think it’s fun to know these things. It’s really interesting. My son tells people apples came from Kazakhstan.

‘’These little bits of information make what you’re eating, at least to me, more meaningful. At the farmers’ market; I like to know where things are coming from, but I also like to know the history behind things. I did the research, then distilled it into a way where I can tell you about the history of the chickpea that is accessible and entertaining and, sparks your curiosity to learn a little bit more about the ingredients in your pantry. And you’re not falling asleep.’‘

We both know how easy it can be to fall down rabbit holes, getting deeper into research. Whilst reading the book I wondered how the original spark of an idea came about. What made Anna think; I’ve got a book here.

‘’The spark was this meal that I shared with my dad in China in 1998. Him being able to talk to the waiters at this Uyghur restaurant, and connecting to this bowl of noodles that I had earlier on, eating this food that was so confusing. It tasted so familiar, it was in China, but it wasn’t.

‘’What is going on here and what am I eating? I really wanted to write about this kind of pan Turkish movement of people and flavours and it turned into something much much bigger and I’m very grateful that my agent steered me in that direction.’‘

‘’I entered a proposal into an award for what I envisioned as an article about the food and flavours of the silk roads; a little piece about melons and Uyghur food. That was my goal; to write something about food you know and this is the story I want to tell, this is how I want to tell it. I was shortlisted, did not win but off the back of that I got a literary agent. I know how hard an agent can be to get and I had this great one who said, that sounds like a wonderful idea let’s turn this into a book.

‘’I had been recipe testing for Olia Hercules at that point in time, my agent knew that as well. Olia was the one who encouraged me to submit for this award to begin with. My agent said, I know you can cook, you can write recipes so how about we also do this as a cookbook instead of just a narrative non-fiction because if you have a cookbook you also have the recipes, you have the visuals that can get people into it. You’ve never published a piece in your life, no one’s going to buy a narrative non-fiction book. Let’s make a beautiful proposal, let’s make it delicious, you’re going to talk about food and history anyway. She really pushed me in that direction.’‘

There is a strong sense of food, memory, and migration intertwined, which must resonate with lots of people, as it does with me. Are Anna’s family proud of her?

‘’Yes, they are. I think they’re a little confused. My dad’s like, why do people want to know about this? Because my father’s a retired surgeon. I was a lawyer. My mom’s a nurse. We’re one of those families where everybody’s in medicine or law. So, why does someone care about a story about a melon? My dad is so proud of the book. He has 25 copies at his house. He takes them out with him. He gave one to his dentist. And every time I go home, I have to sign more copies.

‘’So, he’s very proud, but also confused. Because even though my family cares so much about food, I think they can’t necessarily wrap their mind around, why would anyone else care about food? And specifically, why people love the story of my dad? I tell him; because it’s a good story daddy. And it says so much.

‘’They were very proud of me when I graduated law school. But they were weirdly more proud of me when I was talking with Ari Weinzweig from Zingerman’s Deli in Michigan, in a sold out room in Ann Arbor, because this deli is like, the Michigan food place. And we’ve been going to it forever. And the fact that I was talking in conversation with the founder, they were like, the founder of Zingerman’s? It was a really big deal. Everyone in Michigan who knows this place is like, oh, wow, you’ve made it.’‘

Another Silk Roads quote for Anna;

‘’Consider what you are cooking and where it comes from and what it costs for it to arrive on your plate.’‘

How would she put that message across, especially when people are thinking about budgets?

‘’If you’re eating meat every single day but you don’t know where your meat’s coming from, it might cost you a small amount over the course of the week.

‘’There is an environmental cost to these things. I think it’s really important for us to recognize that the cost is not just financial.

‘’Like, what is eating factory farmed eggs doing to the environment? Things shouldn’t be cheap, right? We’re so accustomed to McDonald’s and low costs that’s been artificially deflated. Because the cost of everything is more than the cost.

‘’You want to make sure that farmers still have a job, and that people are able to feed their kids by not putting them out of business.

‘’The cost is not just financial, I guess.’‘

Is there something Anna never gets asked that she would like to mention?

‘’Oh great question. Honestly the only question I can think of is; how are you, how are you doing Anna?

‘’Today I’m okay but writing a book is tiring, promoting a book is exhausting.’‘

How long did it take Anna to write the book?

‘’August to end of June, 11 months basically. I did six months of recipe writing and then I did the writing and research but being on your feet 9 a.m till 5 p.m every day six days a week. My husband took my son every Saturday and I just cooked for six days a week. I had to buy orthopedic shoes.

‘’I think it’s more difficult than it can appear, it’s emotionally exhausting, extremely isolating because you’re doing this by yourself.

‘’Me, the radio and my cat, I’m talking to Enzo all day long. We assume so much about how books come out, how people feel and how people deal with it but this is a hard experience. I’ve done some difficult professional things in my life; it’s been very satisfying but really difficult. I have struggled throughout this entire process.’‘

Which makes me wonder if Anna wants to do it again?

‘’Oh 100% sign me up I’ve got a plan in my brain, actually I have four.

‘’One of the great things about Silk Roads is that the questions are so varied from conversation to conversation, from event to event because depending on your perspective you can pull out so many different things from the book.

‘’It speaks to the strength of the book that there is so much to discuss and unpack but no one ever asks, how do you do it.’‘

I’d like to talk about these plans. Reading some of Anna’s articles, she writes with such raw honesty. For example, about the fact that she was an unknown author.

‘’Silk Roads is doing pretty well sales-wise for a debut author with no journalism or food background. I’m very happy with the sales, it’s gotten a lot of award nominations and best of lists, it’s got a good amount of attention.

‘’I have a new agent, because my other agent went on maternity leave a day before the book came out; ‘I’ll be gone for at least a year’, great timing. I’m not going to wait for a year to write about my proposal, so I have another agent who I’m very excited about, and she’s excited about my next proposal.

‘’Publishing is a difficult industry in general. Over the course of 2025, to this first quarter, nonfiction sales in particular have been down. Cookbooks more than regular nonfiction books cost a lot of money to make, so I do recognize that the publishers need to be quite strategic in who they bring to market, it’s a really tough market, and I’m not a TikTok star.’‘

If Anna has just one important message in Silk Roads, what would it be?

‘’We’re all connected, and we’ve always been, you know, this is nothing new.

‘’Immigration’s been going on forever. Food has moved, people have moved, and we’ll continue to do so.’‘

Before we part, Anna shares with me; it's the anniversary of the day she turned in her manuscript.

Next week; two seasonal recipes from Silk Roads.

Walthamstow Farmers’ Market

Every Sunday 10am-2pm

Top of the high street by the library and town square, Walthamstow E17

Anna shopped at

Wild Country Organics

Hook and Son

Pastures Farm Poultry

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Just a reminder; this post may say ‘too long for email’ and be truncated. If you click on “View entire message” you will be able to view the whole post. If you want to listen instead of read this piece, at the very top of the post on Substack click on the cheese triangle. That will automatically play the post for you.

Welcome to this months notes and postcards.

Silly me, I got the date wrong when I announced the change to Sunday; today, 28th June passed me by.

It’s been quite a month; difficult to believe that I began June in Lille, and in between the heatwaves there was a cold snap (remember that?).

In case you missed it, my latest piece, on all things strawberries for is live in two halves, the main article, and the follow up recipes including one from me; strawberry and five spice chutney.

The Guardian has published a strawberry taste test; fascinating to compare with the one we carried out at New Covent Garden. I find it amusing that a similar taste in The Telegraph gives a complete opposite score to Dyson berries. One of the reasons I undertook the NCG taste test was to show how different our palates and taste preferences can be.

Environment and food news

It priced the apple, and forgot the orchard.

A poignant, angry and timely eulogy for the Funeral for the Food System, laid to rest during London Climate Action Week. Sue Pritchard, chair of the Food, Farming and Countryside Commission reflected on what the system gave us, what it cost us – and what could grow in its place.

This petition to decrease the rate of VAT for the hospitality industry has reached over 237,000.

‘One third of the food price inflation that we saw in 2023 was driven by extreme weather events. When families can’t afford to feed their children, societies break down. Civil unrest driven by food supply crises is 40% possible within a decade or possibly 80% likely within 50 years - yet our agricultural policies barely acknowledge these risks.’ National Emergency Briefing; the film can be seen around the UK.

Kit Kat switches to regenerative wheat in Wildfarmed tie-up | The Grocer. I’m not the first person to comment on this; Nestle must be gleeful at this golden opportunity for green washing their reputation.

The World Capital of French Fries Has a Problem: Too Many Potatoes - The New York Times

A passion for celery explained

Rural Britain is becoming ‘food desert’ for lower-income families, study finds

Want this

Viewing

On my last day in Lille I took the metro to the suburbs to one of the most beautiful galleries I’ve ever seen, La Piscine, the museum of art and industry

If you’re in Lille before 5th July they’re hosting a delightful exhibition on the history of French clothing and lifestyle brand La Redoute who began by selling wool and are still going strong today. Go; it’s simply wonderful.

Looking forward to The Quentin Blake Centre for Illustration

The Serpentine Galleries are hosting two free exhibitions; David Hockneys’ panoramic frieze, A Year in Normandie, and Cecily Brown; lose yourself in her broad landscape brush strokes. Pre-booking a slot, especially for the Hockney is advised.

In season

Radishes, the first spring onions, spring greens, kale, spinach and chard. Rhubarb, currants, raspberries, strawberries, gooseberries. Wet, new garlic. New potatoes, salad leaves. Artichokes, peas, broad beans, beetroot, courgette flowers, cucumbers, basil, sorrel, land cress. Cherries, yippee.

Growing

Gardening never ends; it’s a circle of opportunities, some missed and crossed off a list until the next year. This month it’s been Dante’s Circle, a fiery inferno that’s killed, maimed, wounded and had us starting again several times. All growers have been going through the same; very hot, then extreme cold, now extreme heat. We lost all the chillies we planted out and have had to replant. I’m especially sad about the bright yellow chilli given to me by friends in Cornwall last year that I dried and kept aside for planting.

Thefts meant we had to dig up our garlic, elephant garlic and onions a week early. And many of them got heat frazzled on their drying rack when the temperature rocketed and we found that the insides of the onions had literally cooked. Lesson learnt.

We’ve lifted some of our celtuce, also known as asparagus lettuce; the thick stalks, and leaves are edible, crisp and refreshing, unless, like us, you let the flower heads have their way, and the stalks turn very bitter.

Our second herb bed is filling up; society garlic, Korean mint, ginger rosemary, violet cress, Grandpa’s cress, anise hysop, orange thyme, lavenders, Vietnamese coriander, lemon verbena, with more to come. I want a bower of contrasting scents, leaves to rub and brush fingers against, a sensory bed to delight us all.

Lettuces are beautiful, and strangely mollusc free until now. We’ve harvested the first beetroot, cucumbers and a handful of both green and purple podded peas, red gooseberries and delicate little white currants. Most of the summer and winter squash have been released into the garden to do their own thing. Beans are climbing, squash and tomatoes are fruiting, mangelwurzel starting to push upwards out of the soil. A watering regime is in place, water, water, water and more water.

Cooking and Eating

June began with meals eaten in France, and will end with the memory of oyster tasting for The Guild of Fine Food. I don’t think I’m going to eat an oyster again for a very long time. I was the one person in the whole room who lost in the shellfish Russian Roulette; I knew immediatly that I’d sampled a bad oyster. A tiny morsel of one was all it took. The subsequent consequences were not pleasant.

In France; a classic dinner; carrot râpées and celeriac remoulade are available almost everywhere. I wish the same could be said here. Ripe apricots met a salad of endive and blue cheese.

One of those scorching days and a sudden burst of enthusiasm reading ’s recipe for Bulgarian tarator chilled yogurt, cucumber and walnut soup, knowing I had a little dill left in the freezer and everything else in the fridge.

Remember the short cold snap, in between heat waves? Out came venison faggots from my freezer; delicious, braised and served with mash, but so huge they ended up turned into various dishes. Why don’t we eat faggots any more?

After researching best ways of preserving a garlic glut, not having freezer or fridge space, I decided against confit due to too many botulism warnings, and went with fermentation. Simple; four ingredients, garlic, salt and water, the key being the right percentage of salt, and time.

Meanwhile; back to the watermelon and cherries, the first English of the season; so delicous. Whilst some fruits are perfect at room temperature, there are others, such as plums, melons and cherries that are sublime when iced.

Butter

‘The first thing Rika felt was a strange breeze emanating from the back of her throat. The cold butter first met the roof of her mouth with a chilly sensation, contrasting with the steaming rice in both texture and temperature. The cool butter clashed against her teeth, and she felt its soft texture right down into their roots. Soon enough, just as Kajii had said, the melted butter began to surge through the individual grains of rice. It was a taste that could only be described as golden. A shining golden wave, with an astounding depth of flavour and a faint yet full and rounded aroma, wrapped itself around the rice and washed Rika’s’ body far away.’

Our book group choice last month was Butter by Asako Yuzuki. I hosted, and no contest, I had to re-create a recipe from the book. If you’re read it you may wonder as my friends did whether I would be serving a Christmas turkey or beef stew. As soon as I read the description of butter rice I knew it was going to be on the menu. I had a bag of sushi rice from Sous Chef that needed using up by the date of the gathering. I had a pack of Echire butter that I definitely did not bring back from France, and Clearspring Tamari. That’s all it takes. The room was silent apart from occasional whimpers of appreciation. Simple, good ingredients. Try it, I urge you. I still wish that the book had a recipe index.

On Substack & Instagram

Anna’s Substack

The UK’s only food festival on a beach

This year St Ives Food festival celebrated 10 years; a huge success despite some day one flooding of gazebos…

Read more

3 months ago · 1 like · Anna Zuurmond

Grandmothers crochet away heatwave

Many years ago I made a programme about the history of corned beef for The Food Programme; reading this made me think about it. Fascinating post.

Of Mice and Menus

The Indestructible Pie

Whatever you might think or feel about the concept of hermetically sealed pastry and meat in a flat tin can, there is considerably more to it than first meets the eye. The Fray Bentos tinned pie is a profoundly paradoxical item in our national culinary consciousness: an engineering marvel that somehow manages the commercial wet sterilisation of protein …

Read more

3 months ago · 4 likes · 1 comment · Chris

Listening

Pure joy. India Knight beat me to it in announcing that everyone should listen to Anna Maxwell Martin on Desert Island Discs. Please do, her laugh is infectious but also her engaging honesty and realness.

Thank you for reading and being here. It’s much appreciated. Please do click on the heart to like, share and forward to friends and family.

A cup of coffee would be lovely, thank you 😊 or…if you can afford to, please consider becoming a paid subscriber and supporting the work I put into every piece.

x Cheryl

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Welcome to this week’s post. Before we delve into details, a little announcement; posts will in future go out on Sundays, so the next post will land in your inbox if you subscribe, on 5th July.

When I talk to friends about shopping at farmers’ markets, things that I think of as obvious, aren’t as clear-cut as I thought. After twenty-five years of shopping at farmers’ markets, talking to customers and stall holders, I admit that sometimes I’m as bad as the next person. Overbuying, not checking the fridge before heading out, throwing away items that have hidden themselves away, gently turning to compost in the back of the crisper.

The advantages of farmers’ markets include knowledge; you can ask what variety of potato or aubergine, what cut of meat or fish is the best for your uses. Quantity; you can often buy just as much as you want, a single carrot if you don’t want a whole bag, and without the supermarket plastic wrapping.

Food lasts longer, meaning less food waste. Whatever you buy will have come directly from a farm, without spending days in a supermarket distribution centre.

One of the bonuses of running markets is seeing them set up, ready for the hungry stream of customers to come through the aisles of colourful stalls, bags in hand. This is the only time of day the displays will look this perfect, pristine, a shining tribute to the hard work of the farmers and producers. At this time of year it’s easy to picture a mountain of freshly picked peas, tumbles of broad beans, a checkerboard of sweet scented early strawberries, raspberries and gooseberries, bunches of spring onions, zingy greens and rainbows of radishes and beetroot.

We’re still on the tail end of the hungry gap but broad beans are filling out, strawberries are at market and more crops are appearing. Before long, in the UK at least, you’ll see crates of tomatoes, yellow and green courgettes and summer squash, early cherries, and any number of temptations. For this reason, this piece is offered to you now, before it’s too late.

One; stock take at home

Before leaving home do a fridge & freezer stock take. What do you actually need to buy? What needs using up first? Use what you have before buying more.

Two; be freezer savvy

I use my freezer year round; if I have a glut I’ll see what can be frozen. We all know about batch cooking and freezing. If I buy raspberries and think they won’t all get eaten fresh, they’ll go into a freezer bag to be crumbled over breakfast oats or into a cake batter.

Share between fridge & freezer. Slice up bread & freeze slices. Bunches of robust herbs like dill & coriander freeze well. Others can be pureed with a little oil & frozen in ice cube trays. Blanch & freeze vegetables.

Three; Make a list, but not an exacting one

Go to market with a rough list rather than one to stick to. You may have something in mind that’s not in season, has sold out early or is beyond your price point. Prepare to be flexible.

Four; Budget and stick to it

Have a budget in mind and keep to it. Some people find cash the most effective discipline, and when it’s gone, it’s gone. (Looking at you farmers’ market aficionado .)

Five; Walk before you buy

Stroll around the whole market checking out stalls before buying anything. Note what looks good so you can return to it.

Six; Backbone purchases first

Stick to what you need, your essential purchases first. Get to know your market; at mine the chicken carcasses vanish quickly. If you want something that the farmer won’t have much of; the one pack of lamb kidneys, smoked duck breast or ham hocks. Focus on these but remember your flexible list. Once you have these and you still have money left, then it’s time for the icing on the cake purchases, the fleeting in season fruit or veg, that special cheese. If you have children with you, no doubt ice-cream, cake or cheese straws will be on the list alongside your cup of coffee. It’s difficult to walk past the temptations, especially if it’s new season of anything, but remember; it will probably be there next week (or next month); you can check with the vendor and in some cases, you may be able to put in an order.

Seven; Ask to taste

Especially on cheese, and fruit stalls; ask if you can try before you buy. Often the answer will be yes; some varieties of fruit appear in different weeks or months. One week the cherry variety may be super sweet, the next variety could have a balanced tartness. If you’re not happy, you don’t have to buy and be disappointed when you get home.

Eight; Bargains can be found

Look out for grade two produce, for example wonky strawberries. They won’t look as pretty but will taste just as good in your jam or ice-cream recipe. Chicken carcasses often have plenty of meat still on them. Ask the stall holder for their budget recommendations. I don’t eat much meat and often stretch it out with beans or pulses, or use it as a flavouring mechanism. Peak season produce is often reasonably priced.

Early birds get the best choice. Latecomers may be able to ask about end of day bargains, especially on a Sunday when farmers may not want to take stock back to the farm. Can you share large purchases with friends, family or neighbours that may be offered at a discount? I’ve often seen people leaving market with trays of fruit to share.

Nine; Get it home in one piece

Bring your own containers; great for delicate produce like open top punnets of soft fruit to prevent them from getting squashed in your bags.

Ten; Divide & store

When you get home, work out what needs using first. Anything freezable, package up if you’re not going to use it within the next three or four days.

Vegetables and salad leaves from farmers’ markets will last a lot longer than those bags of supermarket ones that lose the will to live after a day. Wash leaves and herbs and store in resealable bags with the air squashed out, or boxes lined with kitchen paper. If your beetroots have come home with their tops, cut them off, wash them and store separately as above. Use within two-three days before they wilt, or blanch and freeze. Tomatoes stay out of the fridge, so do strawberries; eat the latter within 24 hours or turn into a simple granita, cordial or shrub.

If you find that you have come home with too much; don’t panic. Eat what won’t last first. Have fun reorganising your fridge. There’s always next time to get it right.

Do you have any tips to add to this list? Please add in the comments below, and thank you as always for reading x

Is there another vegetable as loaded with class connotations as the pea?

Six years old, sitting on the back door step, the blazing sun is making the metal vessel on my lap uncomfortably warm. We’re shelling peas into the bright cerulean blue enamel interior of the colander. Four for the pot, one for me, the smart sharp snap of the pod opening. Bright green peas clatter into the interior; my fingers running through the cool contents, gathering them up to inhale the deep sweet grassy aroma.

There’s nothing quite like fresh peas, straight from the pod, or in this case, the local greengrocer, to conjure up a June day. Peas are so strongly associated with summer that when we were dreaming up a logo for London Farmers’ Markets, it was an open pod of peas that made it through the final round as the winner.

Unlike other fruit and vegetables that have been developed to become available year round, peas arrive with the warm weather. Summer months, not spring, despite any number of primavera recipes that sing out with the joys of spring and list vegetables not even in their infancy, much less grown up and ready to be harvested.

Growing up, the peas we ate were mostly frozen petit pois, the tiny little peas with a sweet crisp flavour. Occasionally in the Summer, fresh peas were a treat. We never ate garden peas, the larger, slightly coarser frozen peas that crossed our plates at school. Never tinned, mushy or marrowfat peas. These were nightmare scenarios, neon green gravy with lumps of pea, sometimes a sea green puree, or bright green with food colouring that I first witnessed once I’d left the safe confines of home, moved to the North-East of England, and saw what other people ate.

I didn’t recognise the base element when first confronted with peas pudding. A grey green moulded slab held together by confidence, it would be sold by the slice. Most often it came together with a piece of pink ham in a local stotty sandwich. I would never try it, not in a million years. Now, more educated in the world of legumes, of course I would. It’s a classic pairing; ham and pea soup is a winter comforter for chill evenings.

Peas, like much other fresh produce would have been a luxury. For the masses, peas were dried and kept for leaner times. Petit pois? Middle class. Mushy peas, tinned peas…working class. What does an upper class pea looks like? I remember conversations about how to eat peas; on top of the fork, or using the fork to scoop? Squashed or whole? Spike Milligan had the perfect answer:

My ladder of taste goes like this, top to bottom. I know this is contentious; I look forward to your points of view.

The Pea Hierarchy (From Top to Bottom)

1. Home grown peas

2. Fresh sweet peas direct from a farm (check pods for freshness)

3. Fresh sweet peas in pods from a shop (same check as above)

4. Frozen petit pois

5. Split peas/dried peas

6. Frozen garden peas

7. Bottled peas; the kind with a French label

8. Peas pudding

9. Mushy peas

10. Canned peas

11. Marrowfat peas

Peas have a handsome heritage; one of the oldest cultivated crops, pea remains have been found in Neolithic sites in Turkey and Iraq, dating to around 7,000-6,000 BCE, companion plants to early forms of grains. The oldest pea ever discovered, found on the Burma-Thailand border dates back to 9750 BCE.

Field peas as a legume to be eaten dried, were developed side by side with garden peas. The ancient Greeks and Romans cultivated garden peas, and from these areas the plant spread to India and China. Food historian Alan Davidson notes that the pea was an important source of food for peasants in the Middle Ages, providing protein and other nutrients in lean times. Italian Catherine di Medici, wife of French King Henry II, is credited with introducing peas. Italians bred what became known as “piselli novelli” or new peas, the small peas most of us today call petits pois.

Green peas were famously introduced to the court of Louis XIV in January 1660. His court gardeners cultivated these delicate, small legumes in heated glasshouses, making them an exclusive status symbol among French nobility.

Pease-porridge made of pease meal dates from the 1530s. For centuries, dried peas and legumes were a staple in warding off winter hunger, a cheap form of protein and nourishment. And there was a strong north-south divide, as Nick Saltmarsh from Hodmedods notes: “Carlin peas and other dark dried varieties were traditionally eaten predominantly in the north of England in a dish called parched peas served with salt and vinegar.”

Marrowfat peas emerged in England in the 18th century. The term “marrowfat,” describing the peas’ plump, marrow-like seeds, first appeared in English texts in 1733, reflecting their distinctive size and quality for drying. English settlers introduced pea crops, including varieties akin to marrowfats, to North America in the 17th century, where they became a vital protein-rich provision for enduring the continent’s severe climates and long winters. If you think you’ve never eaten marrowfat peas and you love wasabi peas, you’ve eaten them. Marrowfat peas are a major source of crunch for the snack industry.1

Peasemeal and Peasebread

In Scotland, yellow field peas were ground into flour. It’s so rare now that it’s earned its place on Slow Food’s Ark of Taste as a rarity.2 Eating peasemeal was associated with poverty because it provided the hard protein for those that couldn’t afford meat. It was also at times perceived as a treat for those on a heavy oatmeal or barley diet. During the Second World War, peasemeal became a utility food, widely eaten in the UK.

Pie and peas is a traditional northern England working-class meal dating from the industrial revolution—an affordable, filling food that could sustain workers. Traditionally served in pubs and markets, it became a symbol of comfort food. In Australia, the idea of pie and peas was turned on its head; you may find the “pie floater”: an upside-down pie set in a bowl of pea soup with a decorative swirl of tomato sauce.

A Television First

Birds Eye frozen peas were the first product advertised on UK colour television in 1969. In the UK, 160,000 tonnes are produced yearly from 35,000 hectares, supporting year-round availability. In the six-week British harvesting season, farmers work 24 hours a day, 7 days a week using viners to harvest, shell and transport the peas from field to frozen as quickly as possible. This will produce a phenomenal 2 billion portions of peas.3

The UK is 90% self-sufficient in pea production. Eighteen farmer groups, representing 700 British pea growers, grow peas along the east coast of the UK, from Essex to North of Dundee. According to Birds Eye, on average everyone in Britain eats nearly 9,000 peas per year.

Why did the British adopt the frozen pea so readily? Freezers became popular in the 1970s, alongside the development of both Findus and Birds Eye. Peas grow well in the UK temperate climate and frozen peas quickly became an easy option, available year-round.

In my fancy Colin Spencer 1980s vegetarian cooking days, I made a pureed pea flan, using petit pois; naturally a vivid bright green. I’m not sure I’d make it again, but it helps me to question former prejudices against mushy peas, peas pudding and similar more starchy and smooth pea textures. Both have their place in the kitchen. I use dried peas in many dishes from soups to dhals but I am yet to consider making my own mushy peas and I retain my prejudice against a can of marrowfat peas.

We are growing a wide range of rare pea varieties, many from Wales Seed Hub including Llanover, Gladstone and Mr Bethell’s Purple Podded Pea. I love having petit pois in my freezer; a fish pie or shepherd’s pie wouldn’t be the same without them, and peas will always be perfect for throwing into any number of dishes.

If I have a choice, there’s nothing like walking through a vegetable patch and noticing a couple of ripe pea pods calling out to be plucked and eaten before the sweetness fades into dusk.

If you’ve enjoyed reading, and you’d like to buy me a coffee for writing this, or indeed the hundreds of other pieces I’ve published here over the last three years, here’s the tip jar.

There are feathers in the sky; huge and three dimensional, they’re slowly revolving, creamy white against a clear blue palate. The fine point of the largest feather, tips and bends gently. It’s a sky painting, a cloud chorus, pulsating and breathing out with each gentle gust of wind.

Two days after what would have been my dad’s 95th birthday party, I had a week planned in Paris. I lost the price I paid for my apartment; thanks a lot Airbnb, but lovely Eurostar were nice enough to gave me a voucher for another journey.

So.

Here I am on the beach in Dunkerque. The feathers in the sky have little feet, like a prehistoric sea creature, scuttling across the universe.

I’m surrounded by the ghosts of thousands of exhausted Allied troops, and I’m wondering if they had a chance to look up whilst they waited on the beaches and harbour, longing to be evacuated, not knowing if they would make it out alive. This is a strange place to be.

A year ago I took my parents back to their beloved Walpole Bay hotel in Margate for a few days. We travelled to Ramsgate, not knowing when we arrived that it was the 85th anniversary of Operation Dynamo, and the small boats that sailed to France to rescue Allied troops. A year later I’m here on the other side of the English channel imagining these vast sands filled with the smell of guns, smoke and cigarettes. Behind my shoulders my dad is here with me, looking at the sky.

If you come to Dunkerque, visit the museum that tells the story of Operation Dynamo, showing what led up to it, how the advancing German line affected the local population, and what happened after, when the Germans took over Dunkerque. Fascinating to see the little things; the kit bag items the French soldiers had; a cork screw, coffee grinder, dice, everything beautifully made. Items recovered from wrecks and gifted from prisoners of war. It’s affecting, moving and well done. And there’s a lovely little cheese shop in the back streets called Monvent, visit that too.

Purposely I went to Dunkerque on a Monday when the market was closed because I know I’d be unable to resist buying too much.

Here’s a hint; don’t buy chocolate rats if the themometer hits 35 degrees.

A playful pun on the name of the city, rats are the symbol of Arras, first appearing on official city seals in the fourteenth century.

There are two spectacular, arcaded squares—Place des Héros and the Grand' Place—lined with historic Flemish townhouses. On Wednesdays and Saturdays the squares leap into life. The thousand year old Marché d’Arras won the accolade of the 3rd most beautiful market in France in 2023. Isn’t it great that viewers of French TV channel TF1 vote for their favourite. FRENCH TELEVISION hosts an award to find the best, most beautiful market in France. It says so much about the way in which markets in France are regarded.

Market stalls flood across both squares, with food stalls nestling around the Hôtel de ville d’Arras. The oyster man notices me hovering with my phone out and immediately crosses his arms, no photo. Ofcourse I apologise and put my phone away but he laughs because he’s joking and offers me an oyster.

It’s just gone 9am, perfect second breakfast, only this breakfast has an added chaser; he takes my empty shell and fills it with genièvre after which I gently sway my way into the crowds. Like all good classic French markets there are stalls, more stalls around every corner, and you lose track of the one you were going to go back to because the apricots are a brighter colour, the asparagus perkier, the prices perfect, and the queues are longer so it must be better. So;

You find yourself going around in circles until you imagine the stall holders must be looking at you strangely but it doesn’t matter because you’re on holiday. This is why I love going to markets either alone or with fellow market lovers; everyone else without fail will tut loudly, raise their eyebrows, shuffle their feet and moan constantly until sent off to wait in a local bar.

I have several conversations about strawberries. There are at least five organic fruit and vegetable stalls here, and two or three biodynamic ones and any number of conventional fruit and vegetable sellers. I can walk around seeing where the berries come from; France mostly, and Belgium. Long queues are forming next to the fish trailers, for meat and charcuterie, at the cheese stalls, and a couple of people are chatting at the horse meat stall. At the other end of the market a huge rotisserie chicken stall dominates its space; it’s the size of a juggernaut and is swarming with customers, pointing, shouting orders, collecting once their number is called.

Once my bags are full I make the decision to go up to the Belfray, and did I actually say ‘yes I’m fine’ to the winding narrow stair case up to the top. Yes, it looks as though I did. After I’m brave enough to take a few photos, stomach lurching, it’s lunch time.

By 2pm the market has vanished, the squares empty. Everyone’s long gone; into bars or restaurants or home for lunch or a snooze.

Pâtisserie Thibaut is famous for their Coeur d’Arras heart-shaped gingerbread biscuits - one of the town’s best-loved specialities - and chocolate rats filled with crispy praline feuillantine.

I was told very firmly to keep them cool or they will melt. I got mine home by packing them with frozen items.
They’re very delicious, even when half melted and slightly squashed.
A local supermarket was selling bags of chocolate caramel rats, they made it home unscathed.

If you want to visit Les Boves, a 10th-century network of underground chalk quarries used as merchant cellars and by soldiers during WWI, book in advance in case as happened with me, tour groups from Germany, France & the UK turn up and hog all the tickets. One more fact; Arras is very proud of its frites reputation. Home to botanist Charles de l’Écluse who started cultivating potatles in 1526, Arras is the self-proclaimed capitale incontestée de la frite (unrivaled capital of chips). Its annual Championnat du Monde de la Frite was launched in 2023.

I love trains. I love looking at the boards in stations to imagine travelling to the destinations. Both Arras and Dunkerque are less than an hour from Lille, as is Brussels. It was delicious and delightful to meet up with in the Belgian capital for lunch and lots of food talk. On another blistering hot day we lunched at Le Tournant, a Slow Food ethos restaurant, serving French-Belgian cuisine, with seasonal products, mostly local and from small producers. We emerged, both pink and steaming to walk to one of Sophia’s favourite shops, Goods, a sister establishment to their restaurant over the road. I wish I could have bought more; their baked goods looked more than good enough to eat and I was fascinated by their range of syrups, cordials, and preserves with intriguing flavours.

Now that I’m home I wonder at the strength of my suitcase, and give thanks to the lovely people who helped me heft it onto Eurostar luggage racks, off tube trains and up staircases. It was filled with things I couldn’t resist; walnut oil, Martin Pouret vinegar, chocolate rats, magnolia syrup.

I love France; Bakeries are open on Sundays, and early morning. The range of butters available is dazzling. I can find salt cod fritters and brandade easily and cordials in white peach and raspberry flavours. Supermarkets sell organic biscuits and pasta as normal, and keep me away from Brets crisps, especially the falafal and fromage Jura flavour ones. Markets are normal.

Most fruit and vegetables in supermarkets aren’t covered in plastic; Monoprix was better than Carrefour for this and their display was prettier. Note that the chicory is behind a tea towel; usually it’s covered with a delicate sheet of blue tissue paper to prevent it from going bitter in the light. It’s the little things like this that make such a difference, because they care.

If you’ve enjoyed reading, and you’d like to buy me a coffee for writing this, or indeed the hundreds of other pieces I’ve published here over the last three years, here’s the tip jar.

John Ellis is looking a little morose. The day before, at Moseley farmers’ market, he and his colleague had made a great team, selling their beef and lamb to a queue of regular customers.

‘‘Agriculture is in a bit of a downward trend, I’m afraid. It’s dire at present’’, he confides. And he adds;

‘‘We’ve just been reading the reports in the Farmers Weekly. One of the respected editors has advised farmers if they have got something else to do, don’t go into farming. You need to have a diversification, or you will not make any money at all. Which is a bit of a sad situation.’’

We’re sitting having breakfast in their bright and cheerful farm shop cafe, which, on this early Sunday morning is packed with families.

John is one of the partners of Hilltop Farm in Hunningham, just outside Leamington Spa in Warwickshire.

The farm is into their fourth generation, with John’s son Ed, and partner Lottie coming on board.

John’s granddad bought the farm in about 1939. Like many farm stories, originally they ran a dairy herd. John milked cows in the 1970s and his first job when he left school was on the dairy.

‘‘We have changed considerably, really. You know, agriculture has always been a backbone of this country. We produce food. You don’t have to buy it from abroad. It doesn’t have to travel too far.’’

It doesn’t take long to move onto challenges in farming. John talks about the cost of fertiliser prices doubling, some even trebbling and we discuss alternatives.

‘It makes it uneconomical to use it, really. And without that, arable farming can’t exist. You need the grass that needs some fertiliser to help it grow well, so you can cut it for your winter supply of food. Otherwise, you don’t get enough. Basically you need fertiliser to continue. You can use manure, but that’s a cycle. It all links in together. And it’s important that it carries on.

I’m afraid this government doesn’t care about farming anymore.’’

Has any government ever cared?

‘‘No, well they haven’t really, because they don’t understand. They’ve never had to do it themselves. Most governments don’t understand about business either. They only think they do. The last government weren’t very helpful either.’’

What would John like them to do?

‘‘They need to support agriculture. They need to come and have a look at it. And see what’s going on. I don’t think they bother though. We’ve had politicians here, and they haven’t got a clue.

‘‘You don’t want to hear that from somebody that’s going to be your local MP, especially in an agricultural area.’

John points out of the window;

‘‘You only have to look out over there and you can see fields. There’s a big farmer over there. He’s putting all sorts of crops in. The government are paying for these things.

‘‘But it’s not the way forward. The way forward is to support food growing. That will help the country. But they don’t seem to understand that.’’

John and his family have a herd of Hereford Angus cattle including 30 cows with calves. They’re a suckler herd which means it’s a closed herd; they breed their own replacements and don’t buy in.

‘‘The sheep they call half-breeds, half Welsh and half an English breed.’’

They buy new rams in every year because as John says;

‘‘We don’t want, like, daughters and dads getting together if you know what I mean.’’

The rams join the sheep at the end of September until the end of October.

‘‘We stopped having early lambs because we have to feed them so much creep feed pellets (high protein feed for rapid growth in young lambs). We don’t do Easter lamb anymore which doesn’t cause too much of a problem.’’

Lambs born around February or March will usually be slaughtered between five-eight months old, and be out on pasture for most of their lives.

Do people ask for lamb for Easter?

‘‘They do. If they really want it, we’ll get some from a local butcher. But it’s a colossal price.’’ 1

‘‘It’s from a wholesalaer called Joseph Morris and they buy all local meat. They also have a small abattoir where we take all our animals to be killed.’’

John’s lucky that they still have a local small abattoir.

‘‘We appreciate it. It’s not the cheapest place to go, I assure you. It’s quite expensive, but they’re good and they look after us well. If I rang them up now, left a message saying I want two spring lamb legs in the morning, I could get them. That’s the sort of company they are. ‘‘

I remind John he’d told me that they don’t have many lamb sales at the moment because of the price,

‘‘I took our own last year’s lamb into the market yesterday and we’ve got a couple more hanging up in the fridge. And then we’ve about finished our own stock now, so we have to buy in now for a little while, probably for a couple of months.’’

I suggest that it must be nearly hogget and John agrees. ‘‘Some of them, we’ve only just finished lambing the later ones, you see, so it has to be a certain age. It’s all to do with teeth.’’

There are rules to follow; currently, the age of a sheep is assessed by “mouthing” – counting its teeth to see if its permanent incisors have come through. If they have, the animal is assumed to be over 12 months old and has to be split and the spinal cord removed as a food safety measure introduced in 2001 in the wake of the bovine spongiform encephalopathy (BSE) crisis.

The sheep industry has long argued that this is inaccurate and results in a large number of animals being unnecessarily split – a process that can devalue the carcass by 40% and is said to cost the sector about £24m/year.2

‘‘They call them hoggets. They then split them. But none of these have been split, so I don’t class them as hoggets. They’ve all come whole still. The inspector at the abattoir will tell you they’ve got to be split. Backbone’s got to be taken out. That hasn’t happened. So these are still lambs in my eyes.’’

Lamb must be under twelve months of age with no permanent incisor wear. Hogget is from yearlings with no more than two worn incisors. Mutton is from female sheep (ewes) or castrated males (wethers) of two years age or more, with a least two worn incisors.

What’s caused the leap in price? ‘‘A shortage.’’

I’m thinking of the hundreds of thousands of sheep and lambs grazing in the countryside. Why is there a shortage?

‘‘A lot of people are not doing it anymore. That’s what’s happening. A terrific amount of lamb gets exported.’’

Isn’t that a bit ironic when so much cheap lamb gets imported?

‘‘Yeah, that’s right. It goes off to the continent and then we get it back.’’3

How do you feel about competition from lamb being imported from Australia and New Zealand and cheaper prices?

‘‘I think they’ve subsidised a lot of the stuff coming in. It’s fine, really. At Easter, they were selling lamb legs half price. It happens every year. We still sell a fair bit of lamb. I’m not too concerned, really. We can’t control world trade.

‘‘I don’t like them not looking after us.’’

By them I assume John means the Government, and hearing him talk about the way the dairy industry is treated, this is clear. When I asked John what the farm used to be, I knew he was going to say dairy. I meet so many farmers who share similar stories.

‘‘In the village, there was five dairy farms in Cunningham alone. Milk marketing boards were really good, I think, at how they controlled it. And since we handed it over, as soon as the supermarkets get hold of anything, I’m afraid, I don’t like to say it, but they suppress the industry.

‘‘I’ll go to a supermarket, but I won’t ever buy meat from them, ever. We’ve got some good local butchers around as well that are trying to make a living, and they’re good people. So I always tell them to support your local butcher.’’

How important are farmers markets for you, for the business?

John has an immediate answer; They’ve been attending Moseley Farmers’ Market for 25 years, one of the original stalls. Farmers’ markets have always been a good source of income for them because it’s direct sales.

‘‘I go to Birmingham twice a month. That’s the only two I do now. I’m nearly 77 years of age, and it’s quite hard for us, you know. But, yes, it’s quite important.

‘‘I think a lot of farmers have missed a trick there, really. If they’re producing something, they can sell. There’s a few local markets, but farmers don’t generally do them. It’s a shame. They’re used to.

‘‘I stuck at it through thick and thin, and it’s quite useful now. I started at Stratford Farmer’s Market. I had a customer come yesterday I hadn’t seen. They said, oh, last time I came to you, you were in Stratford. That’s 27 years ago.’’

The family have had a farm shop on site for about 22 years. It’s a welcoming place, with signs clearly marking locally grown or made produce.

Driving to the farm we’d passed huge sprawling road works, part of the HS2 development, not popular locally. The farm had suffered a major road closure for five weeks; the day before we visit, the Fosse Way next to the farm had just been reopened.

‘‘We’ve had a bit of a lean time on passing trade. Our regular customers come, which is great. We appreciate them. But we can’t get any more trade. Hopefully we can start to pick up a bit now.

‘‘We have a fair meat trade because our meat’s good. If it’s not our own meat, it’s local meat. That’s important to us to buy all the stuff we sell.

Vegetables are grown locally too. They don’t have a philosophy such as a set percentage of the product have to be locally sourced, but they make sure that most of it is as local as they can do it. If they can source it locally, they will stock it.

‘‘We still sell for example, peaches that we can’t grow in this country successfully yet. But with climate change, we might be able to soon.’’

What changes would he like to see in farming in the UK?

‘‘I just want people to understand a bit more about it and how it is.

‘‘I know people think that every farmer has a range rover and drives around in a tweed jacket, but we don’t.

‘‘And what’s happened just now? I’ve got a friend, a big arable farmer, I suppose you’d call them. He’s a Welshman. He moved down years ago. And he’s been a very successful farmer. His farm is immaculate and he’s really good. And he’s on about not bothering growing crops it’s got that bad.

‘‘That’s such a shame. Two generations of hard work to get this farm really good. And now it’s like, I don’t think I’m going to do it.’’

What message would you have for anyone reading this article?

‘‘I think they’re going to pay more for food, as it is. Even without the war, they have to realise that.’’ John would love people to visit, and understand what it takes to farm, to provide the food we eat, that if we want them to carry on farming, we need to pay a little more.

‘‘I’ve got a daughter in Devon and it’s very much a real dairy market. And they’re having a rare old time there.’’

How do you see this farm in 25 years time?

‘‘I think it will change again.

John tell me about their latest project, their revamped barn.

‘We’re going to do weddings and it’ll be open. as an event venue. To stay here, it’s the only way forward.’’ Then they were hit with an increase in business rates.

‘‘£26,000 pounds a year, up from £6,000. They’ve got no money, (the council) have they? Just because they can’t run their business properly, there’s no need to take it out on our business.’’

Lottie Carter comes to join us. She explains that business rates went up last year because they added a new seasonal site. It’s only open two days a week for four months of the year ‘‘but the council did a new survey and they just obviously went on google maps and saw that new area so just added it on as prime retail value so last year it went from about £1,000 the year before, then it went up to £2,000 last year.

‘‘This year it’s £9,000 and next year; I don’t think it’s official yet but they’re going to take away small business rates relief which means next year will be £26,000 which is a phenomenal increase. Then there’s minimum wage, PAYE, sick pay, national insurance which just means that we’re just making less and less profit continually which is really a shame. Luckily even with the road closure we’ve had a really busy weekend; it’s a bit crazy.’’

The farm are hosting a sold out lambing event. Last weekend they had helicopters using their field space.

Helicopters taking off and landing, and lambs is an interesting combination. The week has been quieter because the road’s been shut. Lottie isn’t sure what’s happening next week, with no events in the diary. ‘‘It’s very tricky with the economy, with the wars, what people are feeling like, obviously the news is pretty bleak.’’

At the time I met them, Lottie was promoting Great British Beef Week.

‘‘We wanted to land a message with our customers that we’re selling our own beef. It’s quite a tricky one sometimes, because we’re trying to talk about the fact that it’s a live animal, it’s going to end up in the butchery counter, which is always kind of challenging.’’

She focused on the breeding and why their beef tastes good, making videos featuring Alf, their Aberdeen Angus bull, filming him in their river meadow with his herd.

‘‘He’s a slow growing breed. He’s outside on the grass and just trying to bring the message home as to why it’s good. Promoting special offer beef packs, save a bit of money if you come and buy it.

‘‘Our slogan is, it tastes better because it is better. We’re doing more work this week again, just talking about reasons to come here.

‘‘Because it’s really hard to get customers to come here. I mean it’s easy. They come here, because obviously they sit out there and have a lovely time. But to persuade them to walk through the shop and go to the butchery, because people’s perception of farm shops is often very expensive. But we’re not, we really are competitive.

It’s obvious that they need to get their message out. Lottie tells me more about the way that HS2 has affected their business.

‘‘I’ve lost track of how many years it’s been, it must be four or five years, and they’ve shut the main road, the Fosse Way, a number of times. They shut it at Christmas, so we missed our Christmas tree sales.

‘‘February half term it was shut, and then they shut it at Easter for three weeks, so we had two weeks of Easter trading, and it only opened yesterday. Jaguar Land Rover are down the road, and I think HS2 prioritise their business over ours, they just think that’s more important, which I presume it is to them.’’

20 years down the line, do you think we’ll be here?

‘‘It’s a really interesting question, especially for me. I think it depends. John’s son Ed is in his 40s, I’m also in my 40s. It depends what our children want to do. We are trying to maximise the land as much as we can, maximise what we’ve got.

‘‘Farming at the minute is pretty bleak, and not very profitable, so we’re looking at more interesting ways. We’ve had a glamping site for 10 years. We’ve got the events space behind us, which is doing really well.

‘‘And then it’s just ways of looking at what different things we can do on the farm that is going to make us, more viable to still be here in the future.’’

How do you feel about farms that have gone so far in that direction, they’re more like Disneyland? They’ve stopped farming, and are all about come to play.

‘‘I feel like, where we are now, the government just genuinely don’t care about farming. I really feel like that, and they don’t want to support us at all.

‘‘So, in a way, people don’t have much choice but to do that. Which isn’t a nice feeling, but at the same time, you think, if you look at 20 years ahead, if you look at food diversity, food security, people are going to need to eat, the population of the world is growing. So sometimes, someone must surely think, actually, we need farmers, especially in this country, we need to be growing things, we need to be producing our own food.’’

In a conversation about regenerative farming versus organic, does Lottie think about any changes to their system?

‘‘I don’t think organic would be something we’d be looking at. From a regenerative point of view, what we do with our cattle and our sheep already is a pretty sustainable model. We farm an extensive farming system, they’re on permanent pasture, out for as long as possible, only coming inside during winter so we can protect them from the cold and wet. They’re pasture for life. A lot of our pasture land is on the River Leam, so it’s pasture that’s been there forever.

‘‘They’re fed home-grown produce, barley, oats, wheat and peas or beans for protein, with lots of haylage too meaning our cows are outside for as much of the year as possible. I think it’s a really sustainable model.

‘‘That’s why we have really great quality lamb and beef in the shop, and people love to know that it’s from here. And they can see where it’s come from.’’

Do they sell mutton? Sometimes they do.

‘‘The occasional old sheep. Again, that’s a bit of an education piece, isn’t it? Because not everyone knows what mutton is or if they want to eat it. Same with goat as well, actually. We get asked if we sell it. We do, it’s not our own. But it’s good to see.’’

Then it’s time to go and see the horses, the stunning views, the beautiful barn and the parents who’ve brought their children to feed orphan lambs. I get the chance to hold a lamb. And I wonder how many parents will lead their children from here, to the meat counter.

I bought a wild rabbit, venison faggots because I’d never seen them before, and a small lamb roasting joint.

Hilltop Farm, Warwickshire. Bookings for breakfast advised!

A serendipitous rabbit recipe arrived in my mailbox from Sally Gurteen if you too have access to a wild bunny.

CELIA by Sally Gurteen

Rabbit Stew with Elderflower & White Beans

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4 months ago · 3 likes · Sally Gurteen

If you think this piece is worth a farmhouse breakfast, you can tip me here

If you’re in the UK; I hope you’ve had a lovely and not too frazzled bank holiday weekend. Today I’m taking you to Rotterdam, the second largest city in The Netherlands, and Europe’s largest seaport to visit the weekly Oogst market.

Tip me for writing this piece here

Rotterdam Oogst market is edged with the bright green of nursery stalls, giving the already shady square an extra frison of country comes to town. Some are professionals, many of them are hobby growers, all encouraged to attend, and given space for the day free of charge. We were told, with a wry smile that eager stall holders arrived earlier than the market managers, and had already set up before the market team. If you manage a market you know what that means for your carefully worked out stall plan. It all worked out in the end; Rotterdam Oogst looked a perfect example of a welcoming market.

The location; a tree lined square by the river, next to a row of shops and cafes. Farm stalls, secondary producers, antique and craft stalls, and chef owned food stalls, bringing tastes from the different cultures that call Rotterdam home. Plenty of places to sit, chat and watch the world go by. Half an hour after opening time, there are already long queues, mostly for coffee but also for the popular vegetable stall run by one of the farmers we’d visited the day before, for bread and cakes, plants and seedlings, preserves, bagels and breakfast.

In Rotterdam for the World Farmers’ Market Coalition regional meeting, we were hosted beatifully and generously by the team from Rotterdam Oogst market, taken to several farms and shown around the market on Saturday.

The market was founded by Gerda Zijlstra. A descendant of an old Groningen family of bakers, she trained as an engineer/designer, and is currently an urban cultural project developer with a passion for good food and cheerful civil disobedience as a strategy. We were told that The Netherlands doesn’t have a culture of hosting farmers’ markets, there are four in the entire country.1

Historically, the square was used for a wholesale market. Twelve years ago, the current organisers began a festival with the aim of bringing farmers into the city. It grew from a yearly event, to a quarterly, then monthly, and now a weekly Saturday market. The website calls it a farmers’ market, the organisers call it Rotterdam Harvest Market. A farmers’ and makers market. Recently, to much celebating, they were granted a licence until 2031.

Oogst philosphy includes bringing people and possibilities together in unexpected ways. Sharing stories of farmers, artists, cooks, children, makers, and tasters. Whilst we were there, we were encouraged to grab hammers and take part in the Gardens Against Rage wild flower workshop, creating a flag from plants. Watch out for it at a farmers’ market near you.

The aim of the market is to have produce from within 50km of they city, but the group admit that they don’t have enough farmers. Three stalls sell meat. An inspiring goats cheese stall, run by a former microbiologist who uses wild yeast for her cheese, had a freezer full of goat meat.

A beef farm run on regenerative agriculture principles also sold his meat frozen, and an impressive wild game stall with freshly cooked game dishes to eat on the spot, smoked sausages and frozen meat. No fresh meat on the market. I was looked on as crazy to question this. No one could believe that fresh meat is sold at UK farmers’ markets. I was equally shocked to hear that the beef was only hung for 12 days, compared with the average 21-28 days in the UK.

The day before we’d seen how wild geese decimates crops. Here, they hunt and eat them. Why don’t more people do this? I’ve written about wild meat before; grey squirrel, venison, now I’m going to stick my neck out and say; wild goose is next on the menu. I was encouraged to taste the three forms on the stall, as a burger, a smoked sausage and as a shawarma. I thought I was eating beef. It’s delicious, healthy and farmers growing crops will thank you for eating it.

The only meat products sold chilled; a very British looking, and popular pie stall. She’s from Rotterdam, her husband is British.

Ofcourse there was cheese; two goats cheese stalls, two cows/sheep/buffalo milk stalls, one organic, one selling unpasteurised cheeses, and a stall selling Italian style cheese, mostly produced in Oudwijk in the Netherlands by two men who learned their cheesemaking in the Italian mountains.

Lines of farm stalls selling everything from stored fruit to fresh vegetables, one stall with just one acre of land had a bountiful display of preserves, syrups, herbal remedies, oils all made from their orchard fruits.

I loved the stall selling miso and tamari from locally grown heritage grains; his products had complex flavours and a returning customer fell on them with delight, telling me how amazing his miso is. A useful refill stall displayed a vast range of nuts, grains and legumes. Wolterra convert wool left over after sheep shearing into wool pellets for use as food for plants, and fruit trees. I brought back Madagascan vanilla paste and pods; what is a Madagascan vanilla stall doing on the market? The husband and wife team own the farm. He’s Dutch, she’s from Madagascar.

The second farm we’d visited told me that they sold more of their apples and pears at one market day than they do at a week of their farm shop sales. The market helps to bring in an income, but it’s also a shop front, encouraging market customers to visit thier farm to pick fruit, spend time in their cafe and shop and volunteer.

The market also has a range of second hand and antique stalls and lots of ready to eat food options, from a frites stall made using fresh local potatoes, to dishes from all over the world.

We were split into four groups to do market tours on different subjects, and each group brought back food to share for lunch. A lovely way to sample the market.

Do you get the impression that I loved this market? I did. I do. I’m going back.

I had two hours spare before my Eurostar train and I asked the tourist office at the station what I could do in the time. He sent me to the market hall. If your idea of heaven is sharing a space with thousands of tourist taking photos of luminous doughnuts, it’s all yours. I admit I was glad to see a stall selling herring, which was missing from Oogst but that’s about all.

Go to Oogst Market. Take a rucksack. Try all the cheese, but especially the goats cheese, and the unpasteurised cheese stall. Have breakfast, stay for lunch.

Rotterdam Oogst Market, every Saturday

Welcome to this months notes and postcards.

Boxing hares on a farm just outside of Rotterdam. Such joy.

I lost mislaid my phone on Friday. It didn’t occur to me, until overwhelmed by stress, just how much I rely on it for almost everything. My train tickets for next week are on there. All my photos for this piece and more, that haven’t yet been uploaded onto dropbox. It’s my diary, my note book for when I forget to take an actual note book out with me. And even when I do have a note book, it’s easier to cut and paste useful quotes or links into the Samsung note files. I just checked; I have 197 writing idea notes. When I was reunited with my phone I made sure that they’re backed up; they are.

I had the bright idea, of looking at Whatsapp on my laptop, security wanted to send a code to my phone. Even Samsung when I tried to access their where is my phone section on their website asked to send a code to my phone. Fat lot of use that would have been. I knew my phone could only be in one of a few places, the polytunnel and gardens where I’d been working on Friday, my bag, or my friend Paul’s car. It wasn’t in any of these places so I took myself off with a heavy heart to buy a new (read reconditioned) phone, only to find when I returned home, that Paul HAD found my phone in his car. And so, we were joyfully reunited. I got told off by Duolingo for missing my evening session. The app I use to track my resting heart rate has had a blip because I missed my morning check in but my phone and I are together again. I wish I wasn’t so reliant on my phone; I need to break it gently; we need a holiday from each other.

You could dig up a lot of asphalt’: Tim Smit’s Chelsea garden prioritises growing food

When I read this, I thought, yes, growing food is always is a good idea. Then I remembered my local authority’s attempts at pocket parks. At first they look great. Then they head in a gently, slightly seedy direction downhill because no-one cares for them or looks after the plants. This is followed by the all day drinkers moving in. I remember seeing little growing spaces near the river Dart in Totnes, each with neat labels suggesting that passers by help themselves. Growing spaces depend so much on the local community wanting to look after them. In the article, Tim suggests that putting growing boxes all over the place would ‘‘encourage people to eat more vegetables and pave the way for farmers’ markets in town centres.’’

There is more to paving the way to more farmers’ markets than growing boxes. It’s lovely to think that having a few herbs and salads would encourage councils to aid local people to open and run farmers markets, give them spaces to do so, help them licence them, hold back the beauocracy and costs. It might help consumers want to buy fresh produce, and that’s another story.

Environment

UK’s biggest environmental pollution claim reaches High Court - BBC News. About 24 million chickens are being raised in the catchment area, ‘close to a fifth of all the chickens in the UK that are being reared for meat’.

The war that often falls off the headlines

UK Healthy Life Expectancy Has Fallen by More Than 2 Years, Study Warns

Extreme heat pushing global food systems to the brink

What death doulas can teach us about dying

Three on red squirrels because they’re in danger of disappearing from our shores.

Save our red squirrels

Englands’ red squirrel recovery strategy

Urgent calls to prevent the extinction of red squirrels

And…this, because, why not.

Food stories

Buying buckwheat miso at Rotterdam Oogst market made me think about this under rated grain and the cultures who appreciate it.

Future Bakers

Mint, chocolate & the cold plunge

Taking back power or taking the mickey? The activists ‘liberating’ food from big stores

A food court rather than a farmers’ market to replace Smithfield market

The world’s first Olive Oil Library has opened at Sevilma, Türkiye’s first Slow Food Farm.

On Substack

London Centric

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It’s the final week of local election campaigning in the capital, but in one area of London it was far from the most pressing thing on people’s minds, with a community living their lives under threat of attack in their streets…

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We don’t just dream of the future. Our soil is crying for help.

Depressing

Teacher by Trade; Mentor by Mistake

Stop Judging British Food - You Haven’t Even Tried It

This week was the last straw…

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5 months ago · 82 likes · 118 comments · Daniel Puzzo

Important

Kate Grows For Chefs

Yes, I Grow in Prisons...

Why Good Food in UK Prisons Isn’t a Luxury—It’s a Necessity…

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As is this

Salt and the Earth

What's it like to visit the abattoir?

Hello, Welcome to Salt and the Earth, a newsletter that brings you a little closer to where your food comes from, every time you cook. Today’s edition takes a slightly different shape; a diary entry of sorts from a day that I had been working toward for years but truly dreaded the arrival of. It was probably the biggest step I ever took in terms of getti…

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4 months ago · 11 likes · 7 comments · Hugo Harrison

Watching

Brilliant. Skip to 4.25 min

Reading

Grief is the thing with feathers

The Call

Viewing

My last few days judging Great Taste Awards, and staying in Shaftsbury. Last two places ticked off my list; the lovely little Gold Hill Museum, and Shaftsbury Abbey.

Gold Hill Museum, Shaftsbury. For any market organiser, or stall holder who’s complained about uneven surfaces, or slopes. The market in Shaftsbury once upon a time took place on Gold Hill, the steepest hill in existence.

Shaftsbury Abbey garden and museum, set up by Alfred the Great and run by his abbess daughter. The herb garden has been reconstructed and it’s a lovely place to visit.

In season

Asparagus, whilst the short season lasts. Radishes, the first spring onions, spring greens, kale, spinach and chard. Leeks. Rhubarb. Wet, new garlic. Jersey Royal new potatoes. Artichokes, peas, broad beans. Wild garlic, nettle, alexanders, elderflowers and three cornered leek. Early strawberries.

What’s in season in your part of the world? Do let me know in the comments.

Growing

We harvested a rather magnificent haul of radishes, each one popping out of the ground like hungry hippos. Huge spring greens with beautiful, squeaky green leaves. The coriander, chard and spinach got a chop to prevent it from flowering. Two different varieties of Cime di Rapa; one is bolting, one is behaving beautifully. We’ve planted out about 8 varieties of peas, including Wales Seed Hub’s Llanover pea, Gladstone and Mr Bethhills Purple podded pea. Our pea beans died, and the next batch are out. Grandpa’s cress, also from Wales Seed Hub has been replanted because it frazzled when we had heat. Now it’s cold again, to plant out, or not to plant out tomatoes yet, that is the question.

The first sweet peas, poppies, and sage flowers are welcome flashes of colour.

Cooking and eating

A cream tea in Dorset. Flower salad for Beltane

The last of the radicchio, braised gently with chickpeas and new onions was delicious and comforting.

Rotterdam farm, and market lunch for European farmers’ market conference attendees made from market ingredients.

Wild goose sausage.

Pie with a view at the top of Gold Hill

Spring cabbage with a generous amount of butter, salt and pepper as is proper.

Sauted asparagus, lemon juice, butter and salt

A proper almond macaroon. Face it; when did you last see one, with a rice paper bottom and satisfying chewy texture. Begone macarons, I want macaroons back.

Strawberry testing; do organic Spanish strawberries taste any better than tunnel grown English supermarket berries? More testing to follow.

Listening

Don Quixote with Jason Watkins and Mackenzie Crook. Made my heart sing.

40 years since Young Hearts Run Free was released

Thank you for reading and being here. It’s much appreciated. Please do click on the heart to like, share and forward to friends and family.

A cup of coffee would be lovely, thank you 😊 or…if you can afford to, please consider becoming a paid subscriber and supporting the work I put into every piece.

x Cheryl

Share Queen of Markets

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Moseley Village has a brand new station. I didn’t know, when I walked onto the concourse that it had only been open a few days and previously, residents had to use buses or cars to get home. I’m used to the abrupt height and noise of Birmingham New Street, but here, all is quiet and peace; gardens and trees, small shops and a church yard. No signs for the market but I know it’s just a five minute walk away. Easy enough to stall spot, and there they are, ranged along the pavement on Alcaster Road and the village green, tightly packed together in the morning sun. It’s busy; a sunny day helps. The first stalls I encounter are selling pizza, the next, a range of cheese, followed by olives and olive oil.

The community stall gives out maps that show the key to stalls; regulars, hot food, non-local, craft, or community info stall. It even marks queue direction and where there are disabled ramps. They create this map for every monthly market. It shows that the stalls I first encountered are classed as non local. The next stall, out on its own island is selling fish. David Isgrove, founder of the market tells me that Moseley village used to have a very popular fish shop, but when they could no longer afford to be there, David offered them a place on the market, as the right thing to do.

Founded by David in August 2000 at the suggestion of his wife, the market was launched to boost the local community and economy, starting off with 12 stalls at the Moseley Festival. It’s now an award winning monthly market with around 60 stalls.

There’s a bright and happy atmosphere, the stalls crowded with shoppers with bags, dogs and children. A group of volunteers are gathered around the community stall, chatting to customers, and volunteer director Radley Russell has a big smile on his face as he introduces me to his team. It’s clear he loves the market and adores being part of it.

Where the pavement is narrow, they’ve been allowed to cone off a section of the road to allow for more comfortable navigation and less overcrowding. Stall holders are uniformly cheerful, eager and happy to chat to customers. I enjoyed conversations with the knowledgable cheesemaker at Lightwood Cheeses, and Walled garden flowers amongst others.

According to the map there are 58 stalls here today ranging from plants and flowers as pictured up top, to mushrooms, pies, preserves, bakeries, game, poultry and meat, vegetables, alcohol, from Sloe gin to local beer and vineyards, hot food and craft stalls.

There are stalls here that need David’s explanation. And that’s why farmers’ markets vary so much; each have their own rules. It’s why when I talked to David and Radley that I pressed for an answer to the question about farmers’ market definitions.

Radley muses; ‘‘I don’t think I can give a definition because I think the definition varies in quite a lot of ways but I would say, to me a farmers’ market is a place to meet to come to shop to buy products and enjoy but also to bring the country into the city.’’

David adds;

‘‘For me a real farmers market is is one where you actually have local produce, nothing is bought in wholesale and where the farmers or the people are processing farm foods or materials which come from the land.’’

David pushes in a different direction and it’s interesting to hear his arguments; on our tour around the market he points out a stall selling pottery made from local clay; a local resource.

‘‘As long as you’re actually making it and turning it into something which is better; for example smoked salmon; we had a person bringing in organic salmon and smoking it, therefore they were adding value to it that was acceptable, alongside people selling veg and fruit and meat and pies and people processing the food, so to me that is a real farmers market.’’

He adds; farmers’ markets also need, if they’re going to be successful, to think of their communities. If you’re in the middle of the country you can’t have fish for example but if the fish supplier is able to tell you where the fish were actually fished from, I think that’s valid because otherwise the community suffers and you’ve cut out an actual whole type of food that they can’t otherwise have.’

On rules and what they allow, Radley says;

‘‘To us, the food has to be real, it has to be very authentic. And it has to have a real percentage of it being real produce.’’

David offers; ‘‘One of the issues we had early on, which made us be more intent on our rules, was a guy with a pig farm who produced sausages. After about a year or so, he had expanded to about another 20 farmers markets. And I said, hang on, has he increased his pigs? No. How has he actually managed to provide the sausages? Tracing them, we realized he was bringing them in wholesale to supplement his own. And so we had to say, sorry, goodbye. He didn’t like it, but we said no. And that made us think, right, we’ve got to have and follow set rules.’’

Radley explains that being in a multicultural city, they get quite a number of cultures wanting to sell their food. They have to explain that ingredients can’t be bought in from supermarkets or imported otherwise, the market team have to say no.

The new pizza stall I saw at the top of the market has been matched with other stalls; vegetable and meat farms so he can source from them.

‘‘It’s like matchmaking inside the market. Traceability.’’ I heard that they’d sold out.

I see stalls at the market that we would never give space to at London Farmers’ Markets; it’s clear that no single model can work for every farmers’ market, but there has to be a base line, a touchstone, otherwise, what is a farmers’ market?

The team are excited about the new train station which may help to increase footfall at an already busy monthly market.

‘‘People come from across the country. If the market was daily it would be a different setup, we wouldn’t have the same traders so if people wanted to come to a specific trader they wouldn’t know when they would be there. We did a survey amongst customers and stallholders on whether we should go twice a month and the overwhelming response from people particularly customers was no because they can go to the other markets.’’

Earlier on in our meeting, both David and Radley had emphasised the community spirit of the market, and when I’d asked why the market was monthly rather than weekly, they replied

‘‘We work in conjunction with other farmers markets King’s Heath and King’s Norton, we share the vibe with the community, we share the space amongst the city in the south of Birmingham.

‘‘We know who our customers are, they’re very regular, they’re very loyal, they know when the market’s on, they also know our sister market; I tend to go to King’s Heath on the first Saturday and I see the same customers there because most of the traders are there as well.’’

David emphasises the sense of community, and localism.

‘‘We know where they live. We know them by face and by name. The ones we don’t know, new customers will come again. With the new station, there’s an influx of people from elsewhere, and what I’d like to do is to do a survey whereby people are able to put up their postcode where they actually come from, so we can actually see. And that’s where I would like, I’m going to suggest we plan, and also to do another count survey at all our five entrances, or six entrances.’’

‘‘Over the course of the morning, we find that the older customers come first thing, then we get the young people, and then we get all the stragglers after that. Moving from one to the other.

‘‘Izzy was talking to some customers who said they had travelled from Litchfield, Nuneaton, (about an hour away by car). I’ve also found people from the Black Country, Wolverhampton, Dudley, and also from Bicester which is about 40 miles away. A customer came from Canada, because he saw us on the BBC, had family nearby, saw Moseley Farmers Market, and he decided to come.’’

What would Radley like to happen to the market if anything were possible?

‘‘If I had a magic wand I would want more stalls; again we’re going back to restrictions and challenges.’’

There’s a good range of stalls on the market; what is missing, what do customers ask for?

‘‘Raw milk and heritage flour, also more fruit. We lost our amazing person who was with us from the start, they had a huge orchard and lots of different varieties and sadly they became ill.’’

I noticed two fruit stalls on the market, one selling single variety apple juice with informative and attractive labels that make you want to buy. And another, an organic orchard currently selling walnuts and wet garlic who was talking to me about the number of trees they look after. I’m betting that in season their displays are stunning.

Izzy Knowles chimes in; she’s a local Councillor and volunteer director of the farmer’s market.

‘‘Part of the challenge is also why we’re successful. Moseley is like a village in a city, we’re fitting sometimes up to 55 stalls in quite a small space. People really like to come and be able to see all these different stalls in that small space.’’

Market manager Rowena Evans makes a few practical points in wishing for more space.

‘‘It’s so tight, it’s so difficult every month when we do the planning, if anything moves like a foot in the wrong direction, we’re thinking about a chance of more space. Not unless we concreted over the village green but Izzy might have words to say about that.’’

They’re discussing side roads, slip roads, closing roads, taking space from the over the road art market, even looking at the new station forecourt, but that’s divided from the market by a five minute walk,which would break the chain of stalls.

‘‘Any space that we can, we will try and fit something on it.’’

I noticed how they’re careful to place stalls with long queues on the edges of rows. That non farm hot food stalls are placed in their own row away from farm stalls.

What changes would they like to see? Radley says;

‘‘I would want it every day I would really really love to have an everyday market but I know that that would be a real big challenge. I love Mosley, I love the farmers market; it was Izzy introduced me to the market alongside David and I love volunteering, absolutely love it because we’re giving back to the community.’’

What other challenges does the market have? And markets across the UK?

Radley is clear;

‘‘Fake markets popping up, artistan markets, trying to steal the brand which is really sad because its taking our customers away from us. They’re trying to project realness. I think they should really own their own definition as opposed to stealing someone else’s definition and selling that to customers when consumers don’t really know or understand. Our big superstores have done that for many years. I would find that a real challenge and I think when it comes to Moseley farmers’ market and the Farm Retail Association and other real farmers’ markets, I always tell them keep that ownership; mention it and be proud of it.’’

How important do they feel that farmers’ markets are, given that they feed such a small % of the population

David looks thoughtful;

‘‘I think they’re very important. I was talking to Tim one of our traders today who’s who has the spit roast pig from Hay Farm.

‘‘Farmers’ markets are about protecting our farms, our rural communities but also feeding our customers and I think it’s really important that we protect this. It’s a shame the government doesn’t realize that, or understand how important it is that we’re supporting our rural areas, our farmers, our producers but we’re also looking after them because they feed us, especially here in Britain.

If you’d asked me this question 20 to 30 years ago I would have said they’re not so important but the problem is the way the world has changed, food security is so important and this government is not taking it seriously enough, both whether it be defense or whatever but particularly also in food security.

‘‘It’s even more crucial that the government recognizes this and makes a decision, rather like the red tractor to actually put a definition to farmers’ markets, real farmers’ markets and to push them in the communities to say this is where you can get proper food. Real food is not that much more expensive, some of it is just as competitive and this will help farmers and raise up our food security.’’

Iris and Ken from Woodhouse Sloe Gin are busy handing out samples of their home made sloe gin for which they collect sloes that grow near them. They joined Moseley farmers market over 10 years ago. How good is the market for them?

‘‘It has been really a success and this is our favourite farmers’ market.’’

Happy to travel from Loughborough, an hour and 15 minutes drive away, they had been selling in Leicestershire as a hobby, a few markets here and there for Christmas.

They heard of Moseley, came to see it and ‘‘we thought this is really something quite special, so we wanted to join.’’

‘‘We think the atmosphere here is very hard to beat and the team is great, it’s like you feel in really safe hands and there’s a positive vibe. Everybody seems to be happy and easy and the products are, as you know, fantastic.’’

Returning to David I want to know;

What makes Moseley an award-winning market in your opinion?

‘‘I think the name. Moseley. Moseley is just an incredible area. It’s an incredible space. It’s an incredible part of Birmingham. It has its separation, if you want to call it that, independence. And I think the farmer’s market contributes to that. It knows who it is. And I know that’s why Moseley’s Farmers Market is four times award-winning.’’

I ask David to repeat a comment; ‘‘it’s community that’s empowered it.

‘‘Yes, because it’s actually helped Moseley rediscover its sense of community.’’

Thinking back to the COVID era David tells me; ‘‘we were the backbone of the community during COVID. Absolutely. We remained open. Yes. We remained visible. We were there for our customers. We were there for our local people.’’

‘‘And it’s provided the glue to really bond the community together. It’s a meeting place now for all kinds of people. It’s amazing.’’

Moseley Village farmers market runs monthly on the last Saturday; Find more information here

Worth visiting! Absolutely.

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Sprouting broccoli takes us by surprise. One day it’s all green leaves, the next, little nests of purple buds have emerged and before long, we’re harvesting madly. The more you cut, the more the plant is encouraged to send up stems.

Two years ago, I wrote a piece about three cornered leek and white sprouting broccoli, pointing out how rare it is to find the latter for sale in the UK.

You’ll either need to be lucky at your local farmers’ markets or greengrocer, or grow it yourself. Ours took two years to mature and this year it did us proud. Now, with a few days of glorious sunshine, the buds have flowered and gone to seed, and the stems are fibrous and unpleasant. End of season. The same for the calabrese that somehow has lasted over winter to provide us with side shoots, and the purple sprouting. A good time to look back in appreciation.

We love the sprightly flavour of sprouting broccoli; it leads us through the hungry gap when there’s not much else in the garden. Honestly, there is such as thing as too much kale and chard, especially when asparagus is late, and broad beans are still in their flower stage.

It’s Italy we have to thank. Brassica oleracea italica1 refers to both green broccoli (Calabrese), purple sprouting broccoli, and Romanesco broccoli. Romanesco, the wilder more fashionable cauliflower cousin is a brassica. Cauliflower is also a Brassica oleracea, but it belongs to the Botrytis Group. Basically, they’re all cousins.

We tend to lump them all together as broccoli, whereasa properly, those large green heads labelled broccoli in supermarkets are calabese, and the little stems with purple or white, occasionally green flowering heads are broccoli. And that’s before we get to varieties such as Tenderstem and Rapini. Calabrese season tends to be Summer to Autumn. Broccoli; early Autumn to Spring.

Tenderstem is a cross between calabrese and Chinese kale to give longer tender stems.

Then we have Broccoli Raab also called Rapini or Cime di Rapa, best beloved by Italians. It confuses the hell out of some of my growing team who can’t get their heads around the name. Also called turnip tops because it’s not a brassica, it’s part of the turnip family. The leaves, stalks and tight buds are all edible; in Italy it’s traditionally slow cooked until soft and served as a pasta dressing.

Doesn’t calabrese sound similar to Calabria? From Oxford Reference;

‘Calabrese is a variety of green broccoli whose year-round import from warmer areas of Europe has in recent decades put the home-grown purple-sprouting broccoli into the commercial shade. It was originally developed in Calabria, in southwestern Italy (the word means literally ‘Calabrian’ in Italian), and seems first to have reached British shores at the end of the 1920s.’

They’re right about calabrese putting PSB in the shade, but I can find no evidence of a date when calabrese was first sold in the UK. Redditt chat cites its first appearance in supermarkets in the UK and Ireland in the late 1970's.

On sprouting broccoli, according to the RHS;

‘Broccoli was first cultivated by Italian farmers more than two thousand years ago. It was held in such high regard among the ancient Romans, that Drusus Caesar, son of the Emperor Tiberius, reportedly ate nothing but the vegetable for an entire month.

Purple broccoli is native to the eastern Mediterranean and Central Asian region and was first cultivated in Southern Italy. Broccoli didn’t reach British soil until the middle of the eighteenth century, when it was introduced by the Flemish sculptor, Peter Scheemakers…It also reached America around this time; records show that the Founding Father, Thomas Jefferson, who was also a keen gardener, experimented with broccoli seeds brought over from Italy in the late 1700s.’

The word broccoli comes from the Italian broccoli, plural of broccolo ‘a sprout, cabbage sprout,’ or ‘the flowering crest of a cabbage’, diminutive of brocco ‘shoot, protruding tooth, small nail,’.

The plant was rare in England before the 18th century. and regarded as primarily ornamental until late in the century. Other English names for it were Italian cabbage (1797) and Italian asparagus (1735)2

Calabrese broccoli was brought to the United States by immigrants from southern Italy, gaining popularity after the Second World War, where it was grown near Boston and New York.

Sprouting broccoli was cultivated due to its hardiness; it survives winters and is resistent to cold temperatures, in fact, it tastes better. Slow to take off and be accepted, the Victorians grew it in a multiude of colours.

it wasn’t until 1985 that two English breeders, Alan Gray and P. Crisp, began its commercialisation, bringing it to the attention of farmers and consumers alike. (Speciality Produce).

Despite its reputation, PBS is still not to be found everywhere and isn’t as well known as it deserves to be. So much more delicious and characterful than standard calabrese. Look out for it next season and show it some love. Trim the stalk ends. Treat it gently; steam rather than boil it, or roast it in a little oil. Eat it all, leaves, stems and florettes. It cooks quicker than you may think, a few minutes should be enough but keep testing. If stems are unevenly sized I might split thicker stems with a knife to ensure they all reach peak perfection at the same time. Or, treat it like cime di rapa, cooking it until soft and mellow. Honour its Italian asparagus heritage by dipping florets in hollandaise or maltaise sauce or serve with a poached egg. It’s great as tempura, in a stir fry or a creamy gratin too.

This time two years ago; at Ealing farmers’ market with

This time last year; an interlude on sewing and sowing

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Over the years I’ve lived in London, I’ve made my home along the Victoria line, from Brixton in the south to North London, living in two very similar communities, both rooted in Afro-Caribbean cultures. Both with markets as their backbone; I’ve written about the long drawn out battle for Seven Sisters Market here. Now it’s the turn of Brixton market.

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Come back with me to the 1990’s. Franco Manca doesn’t yet exist; the tiny little pizza place inside Brixton Market arcade is still called Francos. If my flatmates and I are organised enough and not too hung over, we arrive just in time to bag the last table in the tiny interior and while away a Saturday afternoon eating the best pizza in London in our opinions.

It was my delight to take my shopping bags to the outdoor market on Electric Avenue on Saturday mornings and be part of the multitude, where shops with outdoor displays lined the street and market stalls faced the pavement. It’s easy to imagine…busy, buzzy, crowded, noisy with the sounds and crys of recognition and street vendor sales patter, music pounding from street and shops.

Careful of having your feet run over by the plethora of huge and heavy shopping trolleys dragged and scraped along the pavements by determined women shoppers, or slipping up on rotten fruit left in piles ready to be swept away. Weave in and out of people queuing or groups of shoppers fussing over plantain or picking their way through piles of brighly coloured Scotch bonnets. The smells…thyme, banana skins, fried plantain, incense, and inside the arcades…fish, jerk chicken, patties, pickled pigs feet, and that slightly intoxicatingly sweet scent of pineapple about to turn.

From Electric Avenue the market branches off into indoor market arcades brimming with stalls selling an eclectic range of produce from giant land snails to salt cod, dress making materials, bunches of herbs, cooking and household implements, fresh fish and meat, green Jamaican oranges and bunches of tiny bananas.

Reliance Arcade was built 1923-5 and has two entrances, on Brixton Road and Electric Lane. Diagonally opposite is Market Row built in 1928, which winds its way through to Coldharbour Lane. Granville Arcade (now called Brixton Village) followed in 1935-8. Market Row and Granville Arcade both have entrances on Atlantic Road. There were once even more arcades. The stylish Morley’s Arcade, the relatively modern Station Arcade and the Edwardian Bon Marché Arcade, which was located next to Marks & Spencer in Brixton Road.1

It doesn’t matter how many times I visit, I always forget where I am and which arcade I’m in.

Brixton was once known as the Oxford Street of the South. The location of the very first purpose built department store in the UK, Bon Marché opened in 1877, finally closing its doors in 1975.

Electric Avenue, built in 1888 was the first shopping street to be lit by electricity. Designed with Burlington Arcade in mind, it was known for its elegant metal and glass canopies. Sadly many were damaged during the second world war. In the followoing decades, more fell into disrepair and they were finally taken down in the 1980s.

The lower floors of Bon Marche were used as a retail indoor market, between 1977-1981. The facade has now been restored and the building leased to high street brands and office space as a business centre.

When the Windrush generation settled in Brixton, shopkeepers in the market were quick to supply them with a taste of home. Many other cultures from South America to Afghanistan came to call Brixton home. Brixton has been the home of West Indian writer CLR James, Vincent van Gogh, poet Linton Kwesi Johnson, Charlie Chaplin, and David Bowie was born here.

Pathe news made a short film about Granville Arcade in 1961; Caribbean Market.

If Electric Avenue sounds familiar to you, it may be due to Eddy Grant’s song, his response to the 1981 Brixton uprising. The 1970’s and 80’s were not a good time for Brixton, or the market as the area gradually became more impoverished. The BBC quoted local historian and secretary at The Brixton Society, Alan Piper saying ‘‘by the late 1960s, the market entered a period of slow decline.

“Lambeth Council had major plans to rebuild the whole town centre, but this only discouraged private investment.”

Before Eddy Grant recorded his song, The Clash recorded Guns of Brixton in 1979, Paul Simonon, the groups bassist and song creator grew up in Brixton. In The Life of a Song in the FT, journalist Helen Brown notes 'the discontent that was building due to high unemployment, police brutality, crime and poor housing that eventually lead to the Brixton riots in the 1980s.’

According to the BBC; ‘In the 1990s, attempts were made to restore Brixton Village to its former glory, primarily through the City Challenge Programme.

The aim was for local councils to make links with businesses and put in specific bids to help regenerate town centres.

Although Lambeth Council received a large amount of funding from the government, there were few concrete results.’

In 2007, Market Row and Brixton Village were sold along with other London market interests of APL Ocean Ltd to London & Associated Properties. In 2008, the new owners released proposals to redevelop Brixton Village.

The proposal included the removal of the existing building and the building of a 10-storey privately owned residential tower block and private park, above a new market building. As detailed in We are Brixton Village; ‘‘In 2009 a campaign, spearheaded by Friends of Brixton Market (involving traders and residents), successfully scuppered plans to knock down Granville Arcade. They vehemently opposed plans to make way for private flats. Out of this came the campaign, supported by the Twentieth Century Society to gain listed status for the covered markets.

All three arcades were awarded heritage protection and declared Grade II listed buildings.

Historic England states that ‘the well-known Brixton Market complex formed the commercial and social heart of the extensive Afro-Caribbean community that settled in Brixton after WWII. The successful adoption of the markets is the clearest architectural manifestation of the major wave of immigration that had such an important impact on the cultural and social landscape of post-war Britain, and is thus a site with considerable historical resonance.’

The fact that they are some of the few arcades of their kind left in the UK was noted.

I remember when Space Makers Agency was called in, ‘‘tasked with coming up with ideas to bring in more foot traffic to Granville Arcade, which was arguably at a low ebb – certainly a significant number of business units had been empty for a while. The Arcade, now popularly referred to as The Village, and Market Row, quickly took off as a fusion of cuisine and creativity, which saw them grow into some of South London’s most sought after retail space.’’

20 empty shops were transformed into a rolling programme of temporary pop-ups, weekly events and new local businesses. After a year every shop in the market was let, and events coordination had been taken over by a group of the traders.

On on side, the traditional stalls, on the other, people came to eat, to meet friends for coffee and spend time in the arcades. Transition Town in conjunction with Friends of Brixton Market set up a community shop and the Brixton pound was launched.

Not everyone was happy; there were protests about rent rises and the balance of the market shifting too strongly away from its roots. A very visual tipping point; In 2013, Champagne and Fromage opened its doors in Granville Arcade. It closed in September 2025.

Walking through the streets, I still miss the brilliant Portugese deli, A&C Grocers on Atlantic Road that sold everything, from bunches of rocket, when rocket was rare, to a vast range of pulses and canned goods, cheeses, cured meats, olives and fresh fruit and vegetables.

It was Network Rail who pulled the plug on their lease in 2015, as they did to everyone who had properties under every arch. The shops I pass are anonymous fast food places but I hope that Network Rail are making a good profit because, that’s all that matters. What happens outside of the market gives context to the change that’s taking place in Brixton. One that we’re all familiar with; rent rises, gentrification, the polishing up of premises. Sometimes a good balance is reached. Often it’s not. Goodbye independent businesses, hello well known names.

Nanban, the brainchild of MasterChef winning chef and cook book author Tim Anderson closed in 2024. The Atlantic, Brixton’s most visible black pub that closed, and reopened as The Dogstar in 1994 also closed its doors in 2024.

Community resilience has always been strong in Brixton, it’s one of the reasons there are so few supermarket chains. The irony that Jack Cohen, the founder of Tesco began life as a Brixton barrow boy and founded one of his first shops on Popes Road in Brixton is not lost on Brixtonites. In 2013 Brixton hit the news when a branch of estate agents Foxtons opened and was immediatly the centre of anti gentrification protests. In the same year, Nour Cash and Carry won a long fought battle against market bosses to stay open after they were told their rent was set to rise by 22 per cent. As of April this year, they finally closed their doors in Brixton market and have moved to a new shop on Coldharbour Lane.

Bradys, the well loved Irish pub we used to frequent is now, irony of ironies, a branch of Franco Manca but even that is short lived; it’s closing at the end of May along with around 16 branches in total.

Brixton Wholefoods is still where I left it, on Atlantic Road. Founded forty years ago, and under new ownership, it still sells herbs and spices from large glass jars and continues to flourish. It’s one of the rocks of Brixton trade.

On Electric Avenue, the market has been tidied up. Instead of traditional stalls facing towards the shop fronts, there are now single square island stalls in the centre of the street. Less food, more handbags. Entering Electric Avenue from the main road, the first stall on the left is selling a range of eggs, the second a large selection of stacked up packets dried fruit and nuts. Nothing wrong with having produce stalls at the Brixton Road end of the market but I miss seeing the fresh fruit and vegetable stalls.

Down the end of Electric Avenue, cross over onto Pope’s Road where stalls continue. Where there used to be a rather down at heel Kwik Save, there is now a large Sports Direct shop. Not as many stalls as there used to be and hardly any on Brixton Station Road. The watch repair man who used to be the traders federation rep is no longer in place, but there is a fabulous looking dried herb stall.

The market on Brixton Station Road is now run by the Brixton Market Traders’ Federation Community Interest Company and may have more stalls on a Saturday when, according to Lambeth Council, it ‘bursts into life’.

Reliance Arcade remains the most traditional, rooted in the every day needs of the local community. It’s narrower than the other arcades. Small units run down the sides of a passageway occupied by a variety of stalls selling clothing, toys, key cutting services alongside dress makers, and food and drink sellers. Around half a dozen hair dressers are working with their clients.

Doubleback and walk in to Market Row; the arcade has two entrances one on Atlantic Road underneath the entrance to the overground station, the other on Electric Lane. This is where you’ll find the site of the original Franco Manca. It’s quiet in here when I visit, some shops are closed. I’m relieved that there are still some of the old guard in place, including the religious artefacts shop.

At the other end of the arcade…a huge double fronted space, difficult to miss; The Black Farmer. As I’m going to be writing a piece about city farm shops there’s no more to be said for now.

The Atlantic Road entrance of Brixton Village is crowded with stalls selling smoking paraphenalia. As you walk in, the space opens out into a high glass ceilinged colourfully bright market, thronged on every side with food stalls, restaurants and cafes. Outside a restaurant showcasing a review by Jimi Famurewa, a mother has seated her children on the benches and is feeding them takeaway burgers from McDonalds. It’s more hectic in here, perhaps because more restaurants are open but food shops are busy too. Butchers and fishmongers, with longstanding connections to the market continue to trade. A tour guide is handing around samples of food to his group. The traditional buffers up to the new in what feels like a long term truce of sorts.

There’s an inviting independent book shop, and it’s worth saying; what looks like plenty of black owned businesses. Walk out of the market at the Coldharbour Lane end, outside benches, for the eateries at this end are packed. When I return later the lunchtime rush has slackened.

Who keeps the markets in balance? The people of Brixton are more than capable of keeping an eye on developers.

In 2018 the arcades were sold for £37 million to property developers Hondo.

In the same year, Lambeth published their Street market masterplan and action plan in which they shared that ‘72% of traders surveyed indicated trade was “the same” or “worse than last year”, indicating commercial under-performance and a threat to long-term viability.’ By 2021 the report states, they wanted Brixton’s street market to be known for its……. ‘Affordability & financial sustainability…to ensure they continue to provide easy, low-cost, low-risk access to retail space for ‘start-up’ businesses; and products and services at affordable prices to price conscious customers.’ It’s this masterplan that resulted in the shiny new stalls on Electric Avenue.

In 2024 The Caterer reported that Brixton market arcade was up for sale again.

According to the BBC the arcades now house more than 100 independent vendors, representing over 50 nationalities.

About 14 years ago, a carpark on Brixton Station Road/ Popes Road was turned into a meanwhile space, called Pop Brixton, housing independent businesses in small units. At the end of March, Lambeth Council approved planning permission for a 288 home development that will see the closure of International House, London’s largest affordable workspace, and Pop Brixton. In the meantime, the council has renewed the leases for International House until Spring 2027 and Pop Brixton until Winter 2026.

Brixton is changing fast. Scroll back up to the images of the exterior of the arcades. Note the words written at the entrance of Market Row; by the time you reach the end of this sentence, Brixton will have evolved.

A planned redevelopment of Brixton Mall, Brixton Plaza and nearby sites of the shopfronts on Brixton Road by the offshore owners owner, Governside Limited, to turn it into an Aldi has been approved, and are set to affect multiple independent and local Brixton businesses. Several current tenants have noted that they were only given approx. 4 weeks notice to cease trading operations. As of the 9th April, the traders have won a High Court reprieve from eviction. Vittles published a detailed piece about the market in March.

Vittles

At Brixton Plaza, evictions threaten one of London’s most diverse food markets

Good morning and welcome to Vittles! In today’s essay, Vitória Croda reports from Brixton, where food and drink traders are being evicted from Brixton Plaza – a mini-mall of immigrant-run food businesses covered previously on Vittles. Potentially more evictions are on their way too…

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5 months ago · 85 likes · 7 comments · Vittles

In 2023, Hondo who own the market arcades withdrew their planning application to build a 20-storey office block in the middle of Brixton following public opposition, with nearly 8,000 people signing a petition against it.

Vitória Croda in her piece for Vittles about Brixton Plaza says; ‘‘It is a spontaneous version of many purpose-built indoor markets around London, including elsewhere in Brixton. It is also the epitome of the diversity and bustling neighbourhood that estate agents brag about in their Brixton area guides.’’

Grass roots campaigners keep their markets flourishing, as long as people continue to shop and take ownership. What would our towns and cities be like without markets, that often give a start to new businesses, bonding communities with costermonger banter.

In Brixton Village, you can now apply to be a member of your very own private members bar, aimed, as the website states; for People Who Build Things. Entrepreneurs. Creators. Independent thinkers.

Chinakwe; fashion, lifestyle and an art studio, founded by Lagos-born, UK-based artist Caroline Chinakwe is opening in Brixton Village in May.

Markets are in the balance, between regeneration and gentrification.

Brixton Market before the after, holds an archive of arty images of the markets and surrounding streets.

You can also support me by adding something to the tip jar here

Welcome to this months notes and postcards.

Spring has arrived; the joy of bluebell woods, the scent of lilac that each year I breath in as deeply as I can, wishing that it would last longer than its fleetingly short stay. Watching anemones open with the sun and close at the end of the day including this sad little lonesome flower. Did you know that the name comes from the Greek “ánemos” (wind) and “ṓnē” (daughter of), translating to “daughter of the wind.” (Thank you Flower Mag)

It’s a joy to judge the Great Taste Awards, and to stay over in Shaftsbury for a night or two. If I’m up early enough I make time for the cute Country Market that takes place on Thursday mornings on the street and inside the Town Hall. On the street there is always one local vegetable grower, several farms selling meat and poultry, a fish stall, cheese and dairy, bread, cakes and more inside including what I think of as the classic WI stall, full of people of a certain age stocking up on quiches, pies, cakes and biscuits. When I bought eggs from a seller, I wasn’t allowed to pay them; instead they give out a chit which you hand over two ladies sitting at a table by the exit, rather like the old style Foyles bookshop on Charing Cross Road in London used to be.

I always check to see if the dachshund triplets are parked outside. If so, all’s well with the world.

Did I imagine it or did I really see food security being debated on Newsnight? Doesn’t mean that the UK Government is taking it seriously but there are more and more articles addressing the issues.

Even if Iran war ends now, farmers’ costs will have to be passed on

Do you have an emergency food & drink store?

Why Britains’ food security needs to be its next line of defence

Field & Kitchen

The Hormuz Wake-Up Call: Why Modern Farming Is So Fragile

The closing of the Strait of Hormuz might just bring the failings of the way we farm, and the fragility of our food system - into sharp focus. We shall see how the next months unfold. The UN Food and Agriculture Organisation has already warned that if this conflict lasts longer than a month, we face serious disruption not only to food prices but to our …

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4 months ago · 24 likes · 6 comments · Karen HB

Me, My Pigs and I.

This Is What No Response Looks Like

I wrote this a couple of weeks ago, to go live before Easter, but I got sick and it sat in my drafts. The headlines I am pointing to are slightly older now, but the pattern has not changed. If anything, it has become harder to ignore. The warning is still clear, and the response is still m…

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4 months ago · 11 likes · 4 comments · Helen Freeman

Thin Ink

What I’ve Been Reading: Food, Power, and Policy Drift

It’s been known for a while that past ambitions to make European food systems fairer, healthier, and greener are now firmly behind us. Still, it was both infuriating and deeply sad to see the Sustainable Food Systems initiative officially “abandoned” last week, despite…

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5 months ago · 21 likes · Thin

Food news

The moon adventure was gripping, but what did they eat?


BBC News - Marmalade to be rebranded in post-Brexit food deal

The Cross‑industry food waste coalition - Alliance Food Sourcing - targets 30 million meals a year by 2028.

Schools in England must be compelled to offer pupils healthy food, not junk

Its a start

From Cocoa Runners stories of thefts and smuggling in the cocoa world.

Environment

White storks battle for the skies

Is it time to ban balloons

What is it like living on the worlds most remote island

The amount of glyphosate being applied to UK crops has risen from 200 metric tonnes per year in 1990 to more than 2,200 tonnes in 2024
Campaigners demand action to break UK’s ‘addiction’ to controversial herbicide

The human cost of sewage pollution and the worst offending companies.

A newly released map shows ammonia pollution hotspots from industrial pig and poultry units across the UK.

Cow granted waste disposal licence in three seconds - Farmers Weekly

Too much doom and gloom? I have just the thing;

Alex T Smith’s Pigeon Post

JOY PARADE No.36

Pssst! If you are reading this via an email, the JOY PARADE might be a smidge too long for you to see all of it. If so, just click the title and it’ll take you to where you can read the whole thing with your eyeballs online…

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5 months ago · 165 likes · 21 comments · AlexTSmith

Reading

Butter by by Asako Yuzuki

I wish so much that there was an index to explain all the foods mentioned; instead of which I’m pausing every so often to look them up.

The Village by Marghanita Laski; life, and class in a post war Britain.

I’m so glad I found Easy Reads for Difficult Times; and very kindly linked to the piece I wrote about my dads’ birthday cakes. I literally just found it whilst checking the link to her piece. Thank you Harriet. And I immediatly searched for and found this 1944 published treasure about two American women doing Europe. How could I not. I mean, just look at the illustrations.

The Joy of Old Books

Easy Reads for Difficult Times: Spring 26 Edition

Welcome to this latest edition of my semi-regular series, Easy Reads for Difficult Times - because sometimes you want a book that feels like a hug rather than a challenge! This doesn’t mean that these books are trivial, though; this list may not be Dostoevsky, but nor is it…

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5 months ago · 176 likes · 72 comments · Harriet

Planning a magnolia tree for my dad; we’ve chosen a colour; either a beautiful subtle apricot orange, or a vibrant yellow. All we have to do now is source and plant it before the season ends.

Viewing

A day trip to George Bernard Shaw’s former home, Shaw’s Corner, in Hertfordshire, left exactly as if he’d just popped out to walk the dog. His glasses, books and false teeth by his bed. His coat and hat hanging up, Jaegar blanket on his bed and no doubt the full woollen combinations in his wardrobe. (Shaw was an enthusiastic follower of Dr Jaeger’s Sanitary Woollen System). In the comfortable and slightly shabby loung, his Oscar for best adapted screenplay for his film adaptation of his own play, Pygmalion stands on the mantlepiece. I wish I’d taken a picture of his cookbook. It’s well known that he was a vegetarian but his wife was not. It’s a charming house with beautiful grounds and orchard.

Fairy Tales at The British Library

From the very oldest to some of the newest, beautful illustrations, from around the world. I wish they would open occasionally in the evening for adult only viewing!

In season

Asparagus, obviously! Once the soil warms up, it can grow up to 10cm per day if the conditions are right which means more is being picked and prices drop a little. Re. white versus green, I know fiece battles rage over which tastes better and people come down on either side of the taste spectrum, but I’m glad it’s all here.

I still meet people who’ve never heard of the hungry gap, and why would they when supermarkets sell us the horn of plenty, year round. If we had to rely on home grown and not import anything, what would we eat in spring time is a question we’ve not had to think about. Broad beans will be our next crop. They won’t be harvested for at least a month. In the meantime, in season we have;

Radishes, the first spring onions, kale, spinach and chard. Leeks, spring greens. Purple and white sprouting broccoli. Rhubarb. Wet, new garlic. Jersey Royal new potatoes. Wild garlic, nettle, alexanders and three cornered leek. The first elderflower if you’re lucky.

What’s in season in your part of the world? Do let me know in the comments.

Growing

We harvested our last over wintered carrots and spring onions. The chard is looking healthy, and unlike the kale, collard greens and last years Brussel Sprouts we left to grow on, aren’t trying to flower. Yay for sprouting broccoli, both the regular sort and perennial 7 star white sprouting, on full show this year. Some of the heads are are large as small cauliflowers. We’re harvesting the radicchios before they go to seed and this year, they’ll be planted much earlier.

So many seedlings in the polytunnel and much more to come. It’s going to be a good year. I noticed that mangelwurzel got its moment on Have I got News for You last week. Ours are going to be transplanted outdoors soon and I hope they’ll look as good as the pictures on the seed packet.

Cooking and eating

I honestly haven’t wanted to cook every day. For the first time I can remember I bought a ready meal from M&S after a long journey and felt no shame. Well, not much but it didn’t last long.

Lambs liver & mashed potatoes with lots of fried onions.

4 allium black barley risotto cooked with a stub of calcified parmesan. 3 cornered leek, onion, leek & wild garlic to finish.

Morels from a market, bought from a local forager; 50 grams went a long way. Sauteed with 7 star white sprouting broccoli, creme fraiche and more 3 cornered leek.

Wild venison mince cooked Thai style with holy basil, lemon grass, fish sauce and lime juice.

A Thai-ish venison curry with three cornered leek bulbettes, and sprouting broccoli.

A treat for my mum; duck breast, duck fat potatoes, red cabbage braised with blackberry jelly and five spice.

Listening

I tried listening to this but honestly…too soon

And finally…

The local coot family.

Discovering a robins nest in the poly tunnel.

A London underground station community garden

A beautifully vibrant rose chafer beatle flew down and landed by my feet but my photo was so blurred and unusable I’ve had to use this one.

Thank you for reading and being here. It’s much appreciated. Please do click on the heart to like, share and forward to friends and family.

A cup of coffee would be lovely, thank you 😊 or…if you can afford to, please consider becoming a paid subscriber.

x Cheryl

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