Summer and the market (super or not?)

I love the farmers' markets which I attend.  If you are lucky enough to have a well run market in your area, please, please use it.  I’m no fan of food elitism and it’s sad to say that, on occasions, some markets did become the preserve of expensive foodstuffs not within the budget of the average family or became dominated by the kind of produce which the majority of the population would not want to consume on a regular basis.  But, done right, markets fulfil an essential role in bringing vitality back to parts of our towns (or villages) which have been stripped of so many food shopping outlets.  Markets bring people together (traders and shoppers), they bring out the curious, the ‘regulars’, those who want to linger over their food acquisitions, those who love to discuss what they’re buying. A good market can provide locally grown and produced foods which are fresh, (not cool stored for months on end) maybe a little bit different and provided by people who know a lot about what’s being sold now and what’s going to be available next week. 

Being an everyday meal provider, I buy food on a very regular basis and have to say frequently use my local supermarket for day to day needs. I’m frequently busy, I’m sometimes stressed and tired and want an easily available option for my food supplies.  But I’ve learned that this does come at a price if you care about where and how your food ends up on those shelves.  A number of recent issues have made me think even more carefully about my food options.  To begin with, I have become increasingly aware of the plight of our home dairy farmers.  The recent protest in London highlighted the fact that dairy farmers are having to sell their milk at increasingly unsustainable prices to regional distributors (who in turn supply the milk to our supermarkets). The ever increasing push for cheaper food has an insidious side effect which we can’t hide from.  When prices come down, somebody somewhere has to bear the cost, and you can bet it’s not the supemarkets.  When prices are slashed, the cost is usually passed onto the producer.  A food producer (be it a local farmer or manufacturer) is asked to provide the exact same quality of food item (uniformly shaped, sized, weight) as usual, but at a reduced price.  If you happen to be a large manufacturer you can maybe swallow the cost of this but for producers operating on increasingly slim margins, it’s a different matter.  If you have to sell your produce (in this instance milk) at a lower and lower price then what are you to do? A friend of mine has lived on subsistence level with their dairy herd for several years now it’s the income from their small campsite which makes the difference. They are now facing the possibility of culling some, or all, of their herd because they may not be able to afford to feed the cattle through the winter.   There’s something very wrong when supermarkets set prices and yet many members of the public testify that they would happily pay a few pence more for their milk if it meant supporting the home dairy business. It does take an effort for the public to make their voice heard but  we must make that effort.  The difference when buying at a local market is that you are buying from the person who produces and has put their price at a level which works for them and hopefully works for you as a customer. 

As a producer I was bowled over with excitement when I spotted a stall setting up in its spot directly opposite me at Cirencester last Saturday.  Bottles of milk from Holmleigh Dairy were spread out and in the centre some vibrant yellow packages which turned out to be THE most fantastic butter I’ve ever tasted.  Having been utterly amazed to learn that there is only one nationally available brand of butter which makes a point of using British sourced milk (currently advertised by Mr John Lydon), the rest is from the EU or New Zealand, or God knows where.  Here was a totally local butter which tasted fantastic and was on sale at a totally affordable price.  I hope I’ll soon be buying it to use in my chocolate brownies.   So, as my brownie recipe is absolute take-to-the-grave secret, here are my two favourite ways to each such fabulous butter:

Sliced fresh soda bread spread with butter. Eaten with olives and air dried ham.

I can eat a staggeringly large amount of this but that’s no bad thing.

Very fresh new potatoes.

Rub off the skins (the mark of a good, fresh potato) and boil until just tender.  Drain.  Add a generous knob of butter, chopped up chives (or spring onions), a generous grind of black pepper and a sprinkle of sea salt.

The second issue which bugs me and can be very depressing is to go into my local supermarket and look at the fresh fruit section.  Recently I saw a sign advertised English Strawberries and Pontiac Cherries.  The implication being (as we are in the middle of the English cherry season) that the cherries were also English; they were not.  Very close inspection of the packaging revealed that they were from Spain.  Mad.  How can a supermarket located about an hour or so drive of cherry growers, sell fruit from overseas?  Not only that, but how cynical to hide it with the English fruit.  I sought out a member of the ‘Fruit and Veg Team’.  I’m told that they have no control over what produce comes into the shop or where it comes from.  They aren’t mass produced in a controlled enough environment on a big enough scale to secure a big enough profit and national availability. Next time it’s the season for any of our nationally traditional foods (asparagus, cherries, strawberries) please check the country of origin.  Produce is there because supermarkets say the customer expects it.  You are the customer, what do you expect? 

These are all reasons why I love my local market and the local shops which make an effort to source good stuff.  I will probably always need to shop at supermarkets but there are certain things I will not buy there, namely fruit, vegetables and meat because, quite frankly, I do not trust them as far as I can throw their Chief Executives.

As a market trader I am no farmer.  I class myself as a producer and many markets name themselves to reflect this fact.  Everyone present is a producer who makes what they sell (or has a very close connection with the production process).  I love meeting up with fellow producers as much as my customers.  They’re an entertaining crowd who will laugh, chat, sometimes grumble and sometimes reveal unexpected talents and interests.  I happened to be next to a butcher at Cirencester recently and, having eyed up the lovely farmhouse sausages decided that this would be on offer for that evening’s supper with friends.  He would normally have been selling pack after pack of sausages for barbecues by the hundred; but this is the British summer of 2012 and barely a pack of charcoal has been bought.  We have reverted back to winter food.  I told him it was, without doubt, a sausage and mash sort of day and he agreed.

Sausages in cider sauce

Finely slice a couple of onions in a tablespoon of neutral flavoured oil.  Gently sauté until softened and slightly coloured. 

In a separate pan brown enough sausages for your needs and set aside. 

To make the sauce, add about half a pint of cider to the onion mixture.  Cook through and, as it thickens add water a couple of chicken stock cubes and a dollop of wholegrain mustard.  You need to aim for the consistency of double cream.

Let the sauce cook gently to cook gently. 

Finely slice half a dozen rashers of smoked streaky bacon, sauté in a pan until starting to brown then add to the cider sauce.  Season to taste.

Add the browned sausages and gently cook to ensure the sausages are cooked through (or transfer to oven if the pan is ovenproof).

Serve with mashed or new potatoes and vegetables of choice

Finally, I bought some fabulous cherries.  I did plumb the depths of my mind and cook books for  the ideal dessert before remembering that inalienable truth; the best way to eat delicious fresh fruit is just how it grew.  So we shared a bowl of fresh cherries and a tub of vanilla ice cream for those who really felt that they needed an additional adornment (there weren’t many in that camp).