HUNTER-GATHERER

Shopping has become a war of attrition. For most of us it usually means rushing headlong to the nearest supermarket where we seem to teeter between between hysteria and panic. Alone is always best.

I see many unlucky enough to be accompanied by demanding infants outperforming Houdini from within their wire cages. In my case, very occasionally the Belgian shows willing. But tempers fray as he tends to spend the entire experience immersed in a taxing mental negotiation between the varying benefits of brands of cholesterol-lowering yoghurt drinks or steering me away from the aisle housing the essential finest ingredients for my kitchen.

I often see bewildered husbands and boyfriends clutching shopping lists and being guided into their target on a mobile phone. Often in completely the wrong place, they’re looking for something they couldn’t identify even if they could find it.

Let’s face it, supermarkets in Britain are brash and unrewarding places where we are intimidated by price and choice – usually both – and just too tired or busy to care. Inevitably I make as quick an exit as possible in a muck sweat with a two metre long receipt mouthing 'how could it possibly be that much?'

There are some who have all day to source and shop for the finest ingredients and local produce money can buy. I long for the life that allows for days in pursuit of food. Up at dawn to Billingsgate for a box of fish; tea and toast before heading to Smithfield and dive down to Borough for some freshly picked Hampshire watercress.

Others still are fortunate enough to simply slide into Fortnum & Mason to stock up on life’s little necessaries. Now that is a deliciously elegant shopping experience. More akin to slipping on a pair of very sheer denier stockings before a cocktail party or being transported to slumbers in an English summer garden with the scent of honeysuckle and the sound of a Chopin prelude.

Two things they supply better than anywhere: foie gras and aged Scottish Luing beef. Way above my buying power of course.

For me, food shopping is a little weekend pilgrimage. Doing it freestyle always offers unexpected delights. This week it began with Steve Hatt in Islington. These friendly fishmonger boys are loud, butch and rather sexy which of course enriches the pleasure. Their calloused hands deftly handling some of the best fish in London. Wild(ly expensive) salmon from Sutherland, octopus from Galicia and a Cromer dressed crab.

Over the road in Chapel St Market, you'll find the most inexpensive artisanale French cheeses available in London from the Le Petit Village stall. Brought in a van from France every few weeks, I am spoiled with something new and perfectly ripe on each visit.

Along the Regent Canal to Broadway Market for pain levain, lettuce and broad beans. I am a great believer in broad beans. For me they represent the ideal of a vegetable. Unmistakeable taste, versatile and easy to prepare. Hot, cold, skinned, salads, stews, whatever. Even if you cock-up and overcook them, just purée and spread on toast drizzled with balsamic vinegar.

Finally I do pop into the supermarket. I have found some new apples. This is clearly sacrilege as they represent a carbon nightmare and are probably more GM than Elton John’s hair. But they’re called Tentation from New Zealand; crisp, sweet, tart, fragrant. A handsome escort for my cheese. And some jumbo organic porridge oats for breakfast.

Into Bangla City Bengali supermarket on Brick Lane for long pepper which is unusual spice; sweet and hot. A couple of kilos of basmati rice, then home to work it all out.

There are endless renewed pleasures in food shopping. For me nothing betters the satisfaction of returning home with ingredients I have no experience of cooking. But it takes a leap of faith.

And here’s my guilty pleasure. When the Belgian is distracted I have been known to slide into Fortnum’s. Pricey but tres raffiné. The last time I was there, I bumped into a dear friend looking for melba toast. To have with the foie gras no doubt.

TENDER WORDS

Tender (2009) tells the story of Nigel Slater's love affair with his garden in Islington and the many seedlings he has raised in his box-hedged vegetable patches. It’s a magnificent volume, like a medieval knightly treatise with pictures of his Eden, its produce and many of the recipes he has created from them.

23 May, 2010

FOOD FROM THE HEART

Cooking is a basic human instinct. We’ve been eating, chopping, shaping, flavouring, enticing ingredients into something delicious since time began. But as the way many of us live has changed, the basic skills we require to cook, are no longer valued and it’s often easier to let others take control of what we eat.

21 April, 2010

IN A RIGHT FISH STEW

This week we had sustainable fish stew. It’s a quick and easy way to feed a gang of hungries on a Friday night and doesn’t need much else but some good bread and wine. Like all stews, you need balance, rich liquid and a range of potent flavours steaming from your pot.

15 March, 2010