Food for thought

IT’S now 20 years since the first British farmer’s market opened in 1997, in Bath. That seems hardly any time when you consider the huge influence these markets have had on our eating, our food and our outlook. Supermarkets sell Pugliese bread, padrón peppers and tortilla chips —all inconceivable in the early 1990s. There are now at least 550 such markets in Britain.

The idea came from America where there are more than 8,000. One of the most famous is in San Francisco’s Ferry Plaza, which opened in 1992. I visited in 2003 and it was wonderful: farmers selling, from their own stalls, what they had grown in a fine generous space with, in the air, the salty tang of the Pacific. It was a revelation.

If I had to guess why farmer’s markets became such an obsession with us, I’d point the finger at Alice Waters and Chez Panisse, her Berkeley, California, restaurant, which opened in 1971. She is, I believe, one of the most influential restaurateurs in the world. Chez Panisse, like its owner, is surprisingly small and unpretentious in style, as welcoming as it is famous.

I went there in 2003 and still have the menu. It identifies some of the farms from which the food came: Terra Firma farm tomatoes are teamed with hand-made mozzarella, Star Route farm escarole is with roasted figs and hazelnuts. Hoffman Farm chicken leg, braised with paprika and sherry with added sweet peppers, shell beans and pounded parsley comes with her celebrated asterisk meaning that, when the fresh ingredients run out, the dish is removed from the menu.

At the bottom, it says: ‘Most of our produce and meat come from farms and ranches that practise ecologically sound agriculture.’ Hooray for that and perhaps some of our supermarkets might make a note to copy this, if they haven’t already.

The reason Miss Waters has become so famous is her insistence on the quality of ingredients. As she says, this is the one area in which cooks should not compromise. They must be the best and they must be fresh —and this is where farmer’s markets come in. ‘Seek out and experiment with the products you find at your local farmers’ markets,’ she writes in her 1999 Chez Panisse Café Cookbook. ‘Go to the market before you decide what you want to cook. Learn to use all your senses and, especially, how to taste—the best skill a cook can cultivate.’

I must say, reading her books (I have three of them) and my 2003 menu, I’ve been inspired once again. The food is remarkably simple, such as pappa al pomodoro (Tuscan tomatoand-bread soup) and pizza. As I have a current glut of tomatoes of all shapes and sizes, these Italian dishes immediately spark the tastebuds.

I also like the ‘artisan cheese collection’ as an idea, even though I’ve never heard of the Californian cheeses Nevat, Columbina and Oldwick Tome. I can substitute Suffolk blue made in a farm up the road.

I can also add side dishes of a plate of olives (mine are delivered once a fortnight from Borough Olives in London’s famous Borough Market) and a bowl of Tuscan olive oil.

My olive oil comes from Puglia via a London neighbour who grows the trees on his farm. Although neither olives nor oil are local, they are sourced locally and give me lots of pleasure.

All keen cooks should read Miss Waters and get her message. It’s surprisingly liberating to buy only what’s fresh and seasonal. And, for those who still shop in supermarkets—and I’m not so purist that I ignore them—we can now find local cheese and sourdough bread. It’s our determination to do so that has changed what they put on the shelves.

It’s liberating to only buy what’s fresh and seasonal’