Stroud

It seems apt that post number 100 should be a real celebration of food in Britain. I went to see Rabs and Norm for the night and had an idea that whatever we did on Saturday should be food-related, so I was delighted when Rabs asked me if I fancied going to Stroud farmers market, which she had never visited. I knew all about this market from Matthew Fort in the Guardian and was very excited because he rated it as one of the best in the UK. I usually follow the maxim "Never trust a hippy" pretty closely, but in the case of farmer's markets I guess that I would have to concede that hippies know what they're doing. And in fact Stroud was not nearly as hippyish as I had feared - well, it was less graspingly after your groats than places like Totnes and Glastonbury, and the market stalls were generally run by ruddy-faced farmers and WI-types than back-to-the-earthers, man. Damn, what was that I said about this post being super positive earlier... come on William.

The variety at the market is pretty impressive and the quality - in a part of England renowned for its cheeses, fruit and vegetables - was top-notch. I can't report on all the things I bought as some of the them are in the fridge unopened, waiting for a possible picnic later, but here's a list of what I bagged:

1. Some tasty granary bread from La Parisienne bakery - with a very nice, almost burnt underside.
2. Loadsa broad beans (from the Shambles market just by the farmer's market). Looking forward to having them with olive oil, salt and perhaps a little bit of mint later - or perhaps making a dip with those ingredients and some feta.
3. A banana and walnut cake. I have a lot of faith in the Jane Crumpler - whose firm made the cakes - and even more in Alma, who the packet tells me was the woman who made this one.
4. Some Three Virgins cheese from Godsell's farm. I tried quite a few local cheeses, including some Single Gloucester, but this mildish, creamy, slightly bitter white cheese came out on top. Perfect with a hunk of bread, some butter and an apple. The packet has a picture of Mr and Mrs Godsell on it and I was sold the cheese by the big, bearded Mr Godsell himself.
5. Some cherry toms from the Vale of Evesham, legendary home of some of Britain's best vegetables, and where my grandfather used to drive to in the wee small hours from Birmingham, before heading back to set up his fruit and veg stall in the city.
6. Some good-looking new potatoes, destined for a potato salad.
7. Some excellent olives with basil and garlic.
8. Two courgette plants, which are moving into a gro-bag with my tomato plants today.

I also tried some really good local asparagus yesterday and some apple and pear juice. How nice it is that the days of British people going to places like France and Italy and looking at their markets as wonderfully strange places - compared with our supermarkets - are now gone. Instead, I imagine there are continental tourists wandering through little country towns - or places liek Marylebone in big cities - at the weekend, marvelling at the renaissance of local producers and quality food sold direct by producers to consumers. It's making the Marxist and the foodie in me glow inside.