Have you ever considered visiting Georgia? I’m talking the country in the Caucasus region of Eurasia here, not the American state.

Nope, I hadn’t either. I barely had any idea where to stab my finger on a map, let alone any knowledge of the food, the people, the wine; all of which, I found out last week, are very loveable indeed.

The Georgians are remarkable characters, famous for their hospitality; warm, open and generous, their eyes sparkle and their laughter flows. My first real encounter with the locals was in the food market we visited in Tbilisi, Georgia’s capital. The Georgians are not yet so used to tourists that they have become jaded; they welcome you to their stalls to taste food, without any expectations that you will buy. In fact when we did want to buy something, we occasionally had a hard time getting them to take our money. They willingly pose for photographs, tapping their friends on the shoulders to turn around and join in with cheesy grins. Can you imagine that happening in Borough Market?

The market in Tbilisi made me tingle with excitement. You can really feel the distance from Western Europe. I stumbled through each ramshackle pathway, ducking through doorways and underneath swinging bulbs, eager as a kid in a sweetshop to see what new discoveries lurked in every nook and cranny. There were many:

The Georgians are into pickles, which of course endeared me to their cuisine immediately. My favourite and fortuitously the most ubiquitous was this tall tangle of what seemed to be pickled flower stems; the comparison with capers (being pickled flower buds) was a natural one and the flavour was quite similar.

Walnuts are grown in Georgia and therefore appear frequently in sauces, soups, salads and most famously, in churchkhela (above); strings of walnuts (and sometimes hazelnuts) are dipped repeatedly in grape must, which is thickened with flour so that it coats the nuts in a slightly sweet, chewy casing.

We stumble across a ‘cheese room’ in the market, stacked with sheep’s and goat’s cheeses, both similar in flavour with an additional, heavily smoked variety. The texture is crumbly like feta, and the flavour, incredibly salty – more so even than halloumi. It is addictive, just as anything very salty always is.

We later visit a cheese maker who tells us that the saltiness is for preservation purposes. We have some fun trying to translate the technicalities of cheese production from Georgian to English but the gist is that they use rennet from the stomachs of their 500 sheep, mixed with milk and nettles, the latter helping to clean the mixture by catching impurities. The cheese was once stored in shaved sheep skins but is now kept in plastic bags (for obvious practical reasons), where it spends a year before reaching maturity.

In typical Georgian fashion we are greeted with refreshments – a plate of the cheese, plus bread and plenty of wine to wash it down. The wine is most definitely what one would describe as rustic, the kind of wine that a teenager would love; very sweet indeed but somehow absolutely perfect in that time and place, the sweetness perfectly balancing the super salty cheese. We glug down several glasses.

Back in the market, carrier bags bulge with heady spices and seeds. Cumin and coriander seem prevalent and I spot nigella seeds, too; unmistakeable black studs nestled amongst the fiery reds of a dozen different chilli powders. The chilli flakes look Turkish so I buy some of those – they come wrapped in a small newspaper cone like fish and chips – plus I take some of the Georgian spice blend which graces the table as a seasoning and tastes like a turbo charged celery salt.

Chickens are bright yellow and clearly corn-fed. The other meat we see hangs in a remote market; every stall holder equipped with the kind of axe one would expect to see furnishing the arm of Gimli in Lord of The Rings. The Georgians seem rather partial to offal, too; brains, tripe, snouts, the lot. In my delicate state (read: disgracefully hungover having spent 8 hours the previous day necking wine and grappa-like spirits), I find my usual ox-like constitution compromised and scurry away.

Honey is scooped from buckets in huge amber globs, then smeared into old jam jars. Pots of honeycomb are also available, which marked the first but not the last time I cursed my decision to bring a tiny suitcase.

Empty soft drink bottles are filled with Georgian table sauce, made from mirabelle plums. The green sauce is sour, while the red sauce, made from riper plums, is more sweet. Both are made by boiling then pureeing the fruit, before adding garlic, coriander, dill and chilli amongst other ingredients. Both are quite delicious, appearing at several meals we enjoy over the course of our stay; the flavour is unique and I’m rather excited at the prospect of attempting to re-create it.

Everywhere we look there are buckets, platters and boxes of ingredients:

Baby leek-like strands of wild garlic…

Platters of tiny fish are metallic flashes in the corner of the eye…

Sugar dusted dried fruits yield squidgy and soft within; dates, figs and persimmons (sharon fruit)

This is a picture of a Georgian cat because it is very pretty. No other reason. Not for eating.

We later visit the flea market in Tbilisi, which proves just as exciting for the cook; silver cutlery, crystal glasses, china and all manner of curious kitchenalia are laid out on the pavements. I once again curse the suitcase, passing up many opportunities to feed my obsession with plates and cutlery. At almost 3 lari to the pound, there were some bargains to be had.

I fell in love with the markets of Georgia. Well, I fell in love with a lot of things about Georgia. I’ll write next about the Georgian supra (feast), how the market ingredients are used in the kitchen and how the hospitality of the Georgian people is legendary. I’m even going to have a go at writing about the wine. Brace yourselves…

My visit to Georgia was led by ‘that crazy French woman’, Isabelle Legeron who organises the RAW artisan wine fair in May. Tickets available here.

On Saturday I will be selling my new,  improved, spingly spangly shiny shiny jerk marinade at Ms. Marmite Lover’s Underground Farmers Market. I originally wanted to cook jerk chicken or pork but hoofing a jerk drum between Peckham and Kilburn without a vehicle is just impossible, and anyway, cooking it yourself at home is all part of the fun. I’ll be selling jars of various sizes so you can buy one that will perfectly suit your jerk needs.

As I said, I’m there on Saturday 5th but there’s a night market/bonfire party too on Friday 4th. To buy tickets, check the link below. It would be lovely to meet some of my readers, so if you do come along, make sure to say hello!

Do click through to Kirsten’s post about the market to see the list of stallholders – it’s a cracking line up I think you’ll agree. There will be hot food to eat on the spot, home made stuff to take away, music, booze (including a cocktail bar on the ironing board), crafts, masterclasses and even a food Dragon’s Den – all in Kerstin’s beautiful home. What are you waiting for?!

Buy tickets for both days HERE.

SE Londoners, listen up: a new food market has opened in Brockley. It will open every Saturday morning in the car park next to Lewisham College and I imagine it will fill a gap for local people, as that stretch seems a bit of a wasteland when it comes to food shopping. The market was really busy on the first day, with over 2000 people visiting. Here’s a little taste of what to expect:

Bacon sarnies from The Red Herring, a smoke house in Hackney. Thick-cut bacon, not over-smoked, inside sturdy yet light bread. The rind on the bacon did make it a little difficult to eat but I bravely struggled through.

The Brockley beekeepers were selling pots of their honey and had brought along a big box of bees. I assume this is part of the hive (I know nothing about bees). It reminded me of a museum I used to visit when I was a little girl; mum and I would spend ages trying to spot the queen who could be identified by the white dot on her back.

Stalls popped with verdant leaves and unusual varieties of vegetables; yellow tomatoes, cobnuts, tubs of edible flowers, unusual fungi and knobbly cukes that looked like The BFG’s snozzcumbers. Interesting salad leaves were sold loose so you could mix them up; young, tender, baby ‘neon chard’, rocket, land cress and sorrel so fresh (picked the day before) that it packed some serious citrus.

There were a few meat and cheese stalls and one guy selling fish; it looked very fresh but also pretty expensive – he was selling a kg of mussels for £6, almost double what I paid for these at the famous Soper’s in Nunhead recently (about the same price in Moxon’s on Lordship Lane too I think).

My favourite was probably the chilli stall, studded with rainbow spikes. Amongst the many varieties of chilli plant were unusual herbs I’d not come across before like ‘chocolate mint’ (it smells like chocolate and mint!) and pineapple sage (it really smells like pineapple!)

I did a little hop of joy when I spotted the naga chilli plant, complete with ripe fruits; I’ve become fixated on them after tasting The Rib Man’s‘ HOLY FUCK HOT SAUCE’. I’m going to harness me some of that special flavour. The chilli man himself was very helpful with tips and multiple warnings: “for a vindaloo heat, use no more than 1/8th of the chilli”. Yikes. He told me to “treat the plant mean” by letting it wilt, then reviving it with a little water; this keeps the heat in the plant as “water dilutes the chilli”.

And there she is, my very own naga. It’s time to take hot sauce to the next level.

I always wonder where all the young and yummy parents suddenly spring from. It’s like Peckham farmers market on a Sunday; I never see them shopping in Khan’s but the slightest whiff of an arabica coffee bean and they spring from the bushes in middle class ambush. There’s plenty of room for everyone here though and I can’t wait to see the market expand with even more stalls, as they are genuinely interesting. Not a painted plate in sight.

Brockley Market
Lewisham College Car Park, Lewisham Way, SE4 1UT
Every Saturday 10-2pm
http://www.brockleymarket.com/

Most of the produce comes from Kent or even closer (e.g. Brockley honey)

The Gin and Lamb Pop-up Cafe

On the weekend of 24th-26th June Son Gallery will host The Gin and Lamb. It’s located on top of Peckham’s famous Bussey Building which offers a stunning view over London. The cafe will be serving, you’ve guessed it, gin and lamb. The former will be provided by G & J Greenall and the latter will be cooked by Xhon at Frog on The Green deli (ex-chef at The Square). There will also be Copeland Book Market plus music, photography and art exhibitions – all mixed up with that unique Peckham energy. You can’t beat it. Press release below (see it bigger on Flickr).

The Gin and Lamb at Son Gallery
Unit 9C, 133 Copeland Road
SE15 3SN

Frank’s Campari Bar

Frank’s Campari Bar will be back on the roof of the multi-storey car park from 1st July to 30th September along with the Bold Tendencies exhibition. It really is a fun experience drinking Campari cocktails on top of a multi-storey car park in the middle of pumping Peckham. Others agree – it received a whopping 45,000 visitors in 2010.

Frank’s Campari Bar
10th Floor, Peckham Multi-Storey Car Park
95a Rye Lane (next to the cinema)
SE15 4ST

The Meatwagon at The Rye

The Rye Pub are serving Meatwagon burgers and other goodies such as this incredibly good smoked pork sandwich (below) which comes with BBQ sauce and slaw plus a smoked beef carpaccio and a ‘mushroom double Swiss’ – a new burger with sliced mushrooms oozing around in loads of melted Swiss cheese.

The Rye
31 Peckham Rye
SE15 3NX
(Meatwagon food available until September I believe)

Dinner at Anderson & Co.

Cafe/deli Anderson’s do a weekly evening dinner on a Wednesday (BYO booze) and also host evenings with other local cooks including Sally Butcher from Persepolis. I went to the first one and it was brilliant, read about it here.

Anderson & Co.
139 Bellenden Rd
SE15

Other Food Shops and Restaurants

I’ve made a list of Peckham’s best food shops here, a nifty little map of places to eat and drink here and you can find all posts about local restaurants on my Peckham page here.

Enjoy the ‘summer’!

I’ve just come back from a week in Puglia, specifically the Itria valley, which encompasses the provinces of Bari, Brindisi and Taranto. The area is noted for a distinctive architectural feature, the trullo; a conical shaped stone roof designed to cool in summer and insulate in winter. Our villa, Trullo Tranquillo was located just outside Ceglie Messapica in Brindisi, hidden away in a labyrinthine network of narrow dirt tracks. Being tucked away like this was not a bad thing, although it did define the way we shopped and ate while in Puglia. I thought it might be of use to others who want to visit the area if I share my experiences of shopping and eating here.

With no restaurants within walking distance of our villa and only 2 drivers among 9, all of whom harboured a desire to get drunk, opportunities to eat out were limited. Mostly we bought ingredients at local markets and cooked for ourselves. Our excursion to the town of Monopoli however, saw us busting bellies at Osteria Perricci.

There’s no menu here, an unexpected relief. Monopoli is a coastal town, so they just serve fish; “antipasti?” our host asked. We nodded. “Pasta?” Of course. “Fish? Grilled? Fried?” We ordered both.

First bruschetta, properly made. Ruby ripe tomatoes smooshed into garlic scrubbed toast. The tomatoes in Puglia are to die for.

Favourite antipasti were butterflied anchovies drenched in the ubiquitous (delicious) olive oil; meaty morsels of octopus and sweet mussels bathing in grassy pools of their own juices mixed with, you guessed it, lots of olive oil. A couple of duds didn’t spoil the fun at all; battered fish was, for me, all bready batter and little fish. Sundried tomatoes were chewy as ever, although the accompanying chunks of cucumber rocked; a sweet, round variety that tastes like a mild melon.

Huge bowls of pasta next – ‘fish’ spaghetti, predominantly octopus and squid in a tomato sauce which tasted of shellfish shells, silkily bound with cooking liquor. The second, not the Orecchiette typical of the region but similar in shape (I think Cencioni), delightfully chewy, the sauce packed with garlic and white wine, the bowl clattering with mussels and sweet clams. Chillies were added at table.

Eating was becoming more difficult. Simply grilled fish was delicious, but an effort. We picked lamely at fritto misto; I stuffed down as many tender squid rings as possible.

A refreshing lemon sorbet could not have been a more welcome finish, sitting atop sweet glazed strawberries, it saved us from passing into a food coma.

The owners don’t speak much English at Osteria Perricci but they’re very friendly and make it easy to get by with gesturing, nodding and piss poor attempts at speaking Italian. Our meal came to around €25 a head I think, including a few beers and a bottle of wine. You can walk it all off around Monopoli afterwards too; the old part of town is well worth a look.

Osteria Perricci
Via Orazio Comes, 1
70043 Monopoli Bari, Italy
080 9372208

We couldn’t visit Italy and not eat pizza. One evening 4 of us left camp to pick up some takeaway from Mamm Ce Pizza in Ceglie Messapica, reasoning that 1 pizza per person should be enough. As we sat waiting for our order it slowly dawned – they were the size of small planets. We staggered out with towering stacks, the owner following behind us; we turned to find him pointing and heartily laughing at our tiny Fiat 500. I think we made his evening. Next thing I know I’m jammed in the back, pizza boxes rammed between my face and the seat, not a millimetre to spare. Each bump in the road guffed more hot cheesy steam into the eyes. We snorted with laughter the whole journey, as did everyone who passed us.

Nice though, and cheap (€7-11 each for those monsters). The ham and ricotta was my favourite. Here’s the menu.

Mamm ce Pizz
Via Taranto, 5
Ceglie Messapica
Brindisi
334.3643145

The remainder of the time we shopped at (fairly) local food markets; some were better than others. I really hope my memory serves me correctly here because it could save you a lot of disappointment. Of the 3 we attempted to visit, only 2 were actually where they were supposed to be – those in Cisternino and Alberobello. We found stall holders at the former very friendly, at the latter a little less so, as at one point we got into a misunderstanding trying to buy figs and had to run away. Don’t let that put you off though, the majority were lovely.

I wouldn’t bother trying the market in Martina Franca; advertised in our guide book as happening ‘all day’ we failed to find anything apart from stalls selling cheap clothes and toilet rolls [Edit: see comment from Tony below; they do exist!]

All the markets carry the same stuff (seasonal, innit) and you’ll find fishmongers and butchers dotted around the towns. To find the markets, just head for the centre, it’s obvious once you arrive.

Fat, buttery green olives.

Bright pink prawns with purple heads.

Saving the shells to make pasta sauce.

Bream ready for the BBQ.

Tomato salad – one of many.

Langoustines.

Can’t beat a mooch around a foreign supermarket.

Now I’m going on a week long detox (that’s obviously a joke, I’m really making focaccia).

A reader e-mailed me recently to suggest I make a Google map showing the best food shops and restaurants around Peckham (thanks Alex). I thought it would be a nice way to follow on from this post and extend it to cafes, restaurants and boozers. I may branch it out further when I have time, into Nunhead and East Dulwich but for now I expect you locals to tell me about all those places I’ve missed. Don’t let me down now.

There’s a little linky underneath the map above to take you to a fancy big one. Ooooh.

This Saturday I will be doing a food stall with Rosie Birkett at the Warwick Wingding in Peckham. It’s a free music and arts festival and runs from 12-7.30pm.

On the entertainment side of things there will be the likes of the Dulwich Ukelele Club (can’t beat a bit of Uke action); a ‘Beer and Talent Tent’; craft stalls from the huge creative community that resides in Peckham; bands; shows and even Chas Hodges from Chas ‘n Dave. Seriously.

Of course I know it’s the food you’re most interested in and the pick of the local crop will be there – Petra with her Chocstar van, Yianni with his Meatwagon, a man called Simon who I’ve yet to meet who’s selling BBQ ribs and Ganapati restaurant serving their beautiful South Indian vegetarian food. Now I hope you’re sitting down because I’m about to drop a bombshell: our stall will also be veggie. We’ll be serving an Ottolenghi-style salad spread including fennel, pomegranate and feta salad; tabbouleh; baba ganoush; muhammara; harissa marinated halloumi and more. Come over and say hello.

If the prospect of stuffing yourself on that lot isn’t enough, there’s an after-party for you hardcore revellers. The Ivy House pub will host an evening of comedy and performance art.

For a lovely little vid of last year’s Wingding, follow this link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1AjsJZnxtps

The Warwick Wingding
Sat 25th September
12-7.30pm (then after-party at The Ivy House)
Warwick Gardens
Lyndhurst Way
SE15

FREE ENTRY

OK so here’s the deal: I’ve got 4 pairs of free tickets to give away so I’m running a little competition. All you need to do to win some is tell me a little food story. It can be as short as a few words or as long as your arm; as simple as telling me the name of your favourite dish; a  joke; a guilty pleasure you’re happy to embrace or a moment of consumption that you’re genuinely ashamed of. Get it off your chest – I’m all ears.

My 4 favourite comments will win the tickets, so the judgement will be based on my whim and fancy; there will be no random number generator or witness present. I’m easily impressed so fire away.

There’s also a 2 for 1 deal up for grabs – that’s 2 tickets for a bargainous £12 for a runner up, should they wish to take the deal.

The Real Food Festival is taking place in Earl’s Court again this year, but don’t let that put you off – many of the people inside are selling some really lovely stuff. I know because I went to visit some of them last year and wrote about it on the RFF blog. I’ll be there myself, serving up tea at the ‘Mad Hatter’s Tea Party’, which will involve Henrietta ‘tea lady’ Lovell and those crazy kids Bompas and Parr. Do pop over for a cuppa.

I’ll choose the winners on Monday 3rd May.

www.therealfoodfestival.co.uk

You could say I’m fond of jerk, but you’d be making one hell of an understatement. The Jerk Cookout Festival has been my event of the year for the past three and I’ve struggled the rest of the time to make a solid version at home. Smokey Jerkey in New Cross (one of the best) and various places in Brixton and Peckham fill other gaps.

Caribbean ingredients are piled high on every reasonable bit of pavement here and you could buy the ingredients for a jerk marinade in almost every food store on Peckham Rye; which one you choose depends on personal preference. I’ve been here about a year and half now and I’ve fallen completely in love with the ramshackle collation that is Khan’s Bargain Limited and the lively stalls on Choumert Road.

I never stop being amused by the interest from Jamaican people who seldom fail to spot the ingredient combination in my hands and stop me mid-browse to ask what I’m cooking. For some reason ‘soup’ is always their first guess. You say you’re making jerk and eyes flicker with excitement. They love the fact you’re loving jerk but at the same time you can forget the idea of ever getting a hint at their recipe. Great jerk recipes are guarded like treasure. They are highly personal. You know the exciting ones are always the product of many tweaks over many years, passed between relatives and best friends who keep it locked against their chests like a family jewel.

A few months ago now my friend introduced me to Josh’s recipe and I was intrigued by the fairly large amount of sugar it. It made me think about what my jerk had been lacking – stickiness.

It was one of those situations where you kick yourself for not realising what the obvious and crucial omission has always been. What I had before was always hanging on the side of being a raw flavour base; kind of like eating a curry paste on its own with no sauce. The use of dark sugar melts the lot down to a fruity, perfumed glaze that chars at the edges into delicious smoky nuggets.

I used three de-seeded scotch bonnets and the heat was pretty spot on; the warm and tingling hum allows for a dollop of hot pepper sauce if it tickles your fancy. I served it with a white cabbage slaw with nigella seeds, not because it was the best match but because I had a lot leftover from the day before. It is one of my favourite accompaniments to grilled tandoori chicken.

The jerk was my most successful attempt to date; thank you Josh for the inspiration. Nothing more satisfying than moving along a long term recipe commitment. There is always one major problem with cooking jerk at home though and that is the fact that most of us will never own a proper steel drum ‘jerk pan’, although believe me when I say that once I have my own garden, I will build one. Until that day, a BBQ is the best bet.

Jerk Chicken

[EDIT DECEMBER 2011: I now have a new and even further improved jerk recipe, which I shall reveal soon. Hopefully in a very exciting way!]

1.5 tablespoons allspice
100g dark packed brown sugar
4 garlic cloves
1 tablespoon thyme leaves
1 bunch large spring onions (about 5)
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
3 scotch bonnet chillies, deseeded
Juice of 2 large limes
1 tsp salt
Black pepper

Chicken pieces (I used 2 legs and 2 breasts)

Blend all the marinade ingredients together and smother over the chicken rubbing well in. I use gloves for this, as I do when I chop the scotch bonnets. Refrigerate overnight.

Allow to come to room temperature and brush off most of the excess marinade before grilling on the BBQ. To set up your BBQ for the indirect method, light the coals in the middle in a kind of volcano shape then wait for the flames to disappear, leaving you with coals which have a light grey ash coating. Move them to the sides. This gets the indirect heat circulating around the kettle when you put the lid on. I find it helps to also brush the grill with a little oil. The chicken pieces will probably take about 30 minutes (although it depends on size) – always check the juices run clear.

To cook in the oven, place in a baking tray and cook at 190C for 30-40 minutes, or until the skin is crisp and the juices run clear.

White Cabbage Slaw with Nigella Seeds

This is a perfect match for Tandoori chicken, not so much jerk.

1 medium sized white cabbage, shredded
1 yellow pepper, grated
60ml red wine vinegar
55g sugar
1 tablespoon mustard
1 teaspoon nigella (onion) seeds

Mix it all together and let the mixture sit for a few hours. Serve.

You may be aware that I also blog for The Real Food Festival website where I’ve been posting about some of the producers. The 2009 festival may be over but the blog will keep running, although now it will be more recipe focused. I’ll love you forever with a cherry on top if you take a look now and again. There will be a larger set of pictures on the RFF blog soon but for now here’s my favourite bits.

The prize for the most animated market stall most definitely goes to the guys at Gaby’s Hot Stuff. Top marks for the music, dancing and banter. Their chilli sauce (below) is certainly ‘lively’ on the palate too. My friend and I dived in enthusiastically. Silly really, considering we should have learned our lesson the day before when we literally laughed in the face of a man who asked if we could ‘take the heat’. Turns out we couldn’t. It nearly blew our heads off. Eyes watered, tongues burned and there was sucking of air through teeth.

We later roped our mate into trying it too, knowing full well what he was in for but allowing him to carry on for our own entertainment. The look on his face afterwards though filled us both with remorse as we re-lived the pain vicariously. He left us to find his fiancée soon afterwards.

I did buy a bottle of the super strength stuff even though it packs a hefty punch, because it also has the most incredible fruity scotch bonnet flavour. I actually bought it for my boyfriend but I am the one who’s become addicted. I’ve eaten it with eggs, chips and I might as well admit that last night, I actually ripped the corner off a loaf of bread, just so I would have something to dunk in it to get my fix. If you’ve got a problem with chilli sauce like me, then how about trying this little game for jinks, courtesy of the chilli men themselves; next time you are feeling the burn, try putting the tip of your tongue on the roof of your mouth and holding it for as long as possible. When you really can’t take it any more, release and savour the ensuing endorphin rush you chilli freak.

Now on the hunt for something to cool and soothe, we turned our attention to oysters. These Jersey Oysters were an irresistible bargain at a mere 50p each, which is why the guys above were constantly opening them, poor shuckers (sorry). I promptly ordered six and waved goodbye to the fire plus the last lingering effects of over-indulgence the night before. Oysters are one of the best hangover cures going in my opinion, just make sure you get the most of their delicious sea flavour by giving them a good ol’ chew.

Cheese is also an excellent soother of palate and among the many on offer I found the Laverstoke Park Farm fresh buffalo mozzarella the most interesting. Made in Hampshire, it has an excellent flavour which kind of explodes in your mouth in a milky burst. Slightly unusual in texture, it is firm and almost grainy although not unpleasantly so.

I had to stop by DeGustibus too – for the entertainment as much as the bread. The guys here are super friendly and always up for a bit of banter. Take Jim (above) for example – if he’s not waxing lyrical about the latest loaf or cake from the DeGustibus kitchen, he’s having a laugh. Kneading clearly gives you great biceps.

This young chap from realale.com was also in fine spirits. He seemed slightly surprised (or possibly scared?) by my excitement at finding he had Brew Dog beers or perhaps he just doesn’t get that many female customers. Don’t worry though sisters, I’m representin’.

I also packed some Halen Mon smoked salt and a bulb of smoked garlic from French Flavour into my bag nestled next to a jar of excellent aubergine pickle from Cafe Spice Namaste (above), which gives me a great excuse to make a curry this weekend.

As much as I had a good time filling my belly and emptying my wallet, I’m sorry to say I didn’t catch any cookery demonstrations or tastings. Although, you can probably tell from the pictures that I most enjoyed talking to the producers anyway. The RFF recognises the value of the small producer, subsidising them – enabling many to attend that could not otherwise afford it. The benefit for the customer is that we get to taste the difference in something made with a bit of love and for that reason alone the festival made me a very happy lady.