When farmers’ markets first came to London they were fun, a shopping destination on Saturday morning. Now …
They are sprouting up everywhere. If you want a destination go to Borough Market. If you want well-sourced, reasonably priced food go to Waitrose or your preferred outlet. I think I’m missing out by not shopping at Lidl. I read that they have good value Champagne. I have learnt a lot about farmers’ markets through shopping on market day in French towns, traipsing through crowded streets to queue at a stall to buy grubby veg. If I’m lucky it’s a Saturday and there may be a copy of the Weekend FT as consolation with a Pernod. It’s only 11.00 but market shopping makes me like that.
When I want a good food shopping experience I hop off to Harvey Nichols or Fortnum & Mason. They sell things supermarkets don’t; think chocolate Bath Olivers, honey in a comb, preserved ginger, cartons of gazpacho, maybe a special half bottle of Sauternes. I once bought a cold grouse, jointed, at Harvey Nicks as the regulars, I’m told, call it. My brother was driving through Dublin and pointed out “the club”. I didn’t think he was a member. He agreed but said he always referred to it as “the club” implying membership and saving the subscription.
There is an enclave of Iranian shops and restaurants near Olympia. They sell supposedly the cheapest caviar in town but I buy things like Turkish Delight and dates. To get there I pass a Tesco Express. I used to go in to buy essentials but have now given up. Their clientele seems to have an unhealthy diet of the type that I imagined only existed in the poorer purlieus of Glasgow.
Elizabeth Hurley wrote in The Spectator that she decided for one weekend only to eat produce from her home county, Herefordshire. All was well as Chase vodka is distilled in the county. It perhaps says something about her drinking habits that she didn’t mention Broadfield Court Wines, also in Herefordshire.
The variety of shops within walking distance of me is remarkable and one of the pluses of living in a city. Just don’t expect me to go to farmers’ markets.
Perhaps I could emulate Miss Hurley by consuming liquor, viz. gin, from my home county of Down.
I could justifiably argue that I live in County Down, because I reside on that side of the river Lagan, which separates the counties of Antrim and Down (!).
The gin? Shortcross, distilled near Crossgar.
My sister in law, who likes her little and it has to be said large luxuries, went into Lidl in Mallorca briefed to buy some basics and emerged with a case of decent champagne and several tins of good foie gras. At the time we thought only she could manage this at such a shop.