As Environment Secretary Michael Gove drafts in a military planner to ensure there are no food shortages in a ‘worst-case scenario’, ANDY JONES shows how it’s possible to thrive on a diet of purely domestic produce

FILL the spare room with canned goods and start stockpiling packets of powdered egg – the end of foodie days is coming. At least, it is if you believe the predictions for a “farmageddon” next year. Defra minister Michael Gove is hiring a military planner to help plot a course through the harrowing realities of a no-deal Brexit amid hysterical warnings of food imports delayed by red tape or inflated by tariffs. Apparently, we might even run out of Mars bars.

In the worst case scenario, Operation Yellowhammer – as it’s been grandly named – may lead to a demand for “reduced diets” following a collapse in livestock production as crops once used for animal feedstuffs are diverted to human consumption. No Sunday roast? Quelle horreur!

As it happens, earlier this month I was asked to attempt to live for a week on a diet of entirely British food – all breakfasts, lunches, dinners, snacks and drinks from home shores – in a bid to discover whether a no-deal Brexit might mean a no meal Brexit.

Pen and pad out, I get groceries in but I’m almost tricked by the “phantom farms” of Tesco.

Even though 70 per cent of UK land is used for farming, I come across bags of authentic-sounding Redmere Farms spinach in red, white and blue packaging, which is in fact grown in Italy. Likewise, Redmere courgettes are from Morocco and their spuds are from Egypt. Meanwhile, Woodside Farms’s pork is from all over the EU.

I’m in a panic of indecision and I have no local butcher or grocer in my area to go to. Thankfully, Alexia Robinson, founder of Love British Food, advises me Burts Crisps are made using accredited British potatoes which are all farmed, processed and packed in the UK.

Likewise, Clover and Country Life butter and Cathedral City cheddar are all produced using British ingredients. McCain, the largest producer of British potatoes in the UK, works with more than 300 Red Tractor assured British growers and farmers.

As I abandon Tesco with a halfempty basket I discover the Co-op sells only British meat, whether it is fresh or in pies and curries, and so the freezer’s full even if I’m not.

Brunch is bacon and eggs. Dinner is a Co-op pie with oven chips and fresh peas. Thankfully, Britain is positively raining beer, bread, crisps, meat and cheese. I’ll get gout if nothing else.

Hot drinks are something else. Tap water is still British, isn’t it? But caffeine, tea

FUELLING FEARS: Michael Gove and chocolate are all now out, and the weather has killed off most of my garden mint.

Step in, Summerdown’s of Basingstoke, whose boxes of mint tea last the whole week – even longer when I reuse the delicious bags.

For breakfast, I can also throw in Weetabix – all wheat grown within 50 miles of the factory – and Shreddies, meaning I don’t have to get the frying pan out every morning.

I’ve had a good breakfast and follow that with a hearty bowl of homemade soup for lunch. Dinner in front of the match? Wyke’s cheddar sandwich – stuffed with Burts crisps – and a London ale. I reach for the Mexican hot sauce for the sandwich but