Too much good food

Where was all this good food when I had my children at home and cooked for more than two. I pretty much missed the whole US Foodie Revolution of the 1980s because the Highland Park, New Jersey Foodtown didn't stock anything beyond the basics of fresh and processed agribusiness, and there were no other food stores in town. When I moved to Hingham, Massachusetts, the Fruit Center Market was a revelation. What a shock to find out you could actually buy all those ingredients in the Silver Palate Cookbook recipes.

(Well here is a sad aside, I just googled Silver Palate and learned that author Sheila Lukins died yesterday, according to the LA Times. Another brain cancer death . . .)

By the time we were in Hingham, cooking had become a bit of a chore, and my daughters insist I cooked the same two dishes every night. I remember cooking at least four dishes. There were so many rules to follow, no chopped beef or pulses for Megan, no onions or green coloured food for Susan, no peppers for either of them. No wonder I grilled chicken or beef, baked potatoes, and filled the meal out with carrots every other night.

We had the great good fortune to move to London on the cusp of a massive revolution in local food production. Borough Market in Southwark, South London has become an overcrowded tourist site, but we were at the first Food Festival at Borough Market in 1998 that was such an overwhelming success it became first a monthly, then a weekly market. For years, Bob and I went to Borough Market nearly every Saturday to buy the week's worth of groceries. Then the New York Times featured the Market as a place to ogle food and buy sandwiches for lunch, and soon food shoppers couldn't get through the crowds of tourists. I haven't been down there in years now.

The next food revolution was starting up at the same time when American Embassy staff member Nina Planck organised the first London Farmer's Market in Islington, North London in 1999. The Farmers Markets have taken over London in the past 10 years. There are now 15 of them spread across the city including Wednesday 10-2 at Swiss Cottage Tube Station, a short bus ride away for me. This market is quite small and new and doesn't draw many customers, so I'm not sure if it will have a long life span, and while I will miss it, the truth is that I don't need it because I have so many other sources of good food.

Most of our supplies are delivered right to the house. The best smartest thing I have ever done is sign up for the organic vegetable delivery box scheme from Riverford Farms in Devon. Riverford picks their vegetables on Tuesday and delivers them around the country on Wednesday. Between Friday and Monday night I order the box I want on-line (size and contents vary). I also order organic fruit, meat, milk, yogurt, and cream at the same time. Could anything be easier? And the cost is essentially no different from supermarket produce and nothing like the cost of fancy food halls. The supermarket basics are delivered by Ocado, a service set up by Goldman alums a few years ago to distribute Waitrose supermarket goods. I order on-line and a new flat fee delivery option will bring me a delivery every week (every day if I want, but there is a minimum order). The Wine Society delivers boxes of wine when ordered on-line. Beer deliveries are handled by Bob from several places including local breweries and the Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA).

If I need or want anything else I can walk to a dozen different places within a few minutes. There are four fruit and veg stands (costermongers! -- one of whom sells organic fruit and veg) that I pass within a block or two, plus a gourmet organic shop that sells lovely produce from France and Italy. We have an excellent fishmonger. The terrible loss of our butcher shop two years ago has been filled by the Riverford delivery, and now also by an itinerant meat provider who sets up between the fishmonger and one of the costermongers, several days a week. Our supply of bread and baked goods is met by four notable named bakers: Raymond Blanc's Maison Blanc, the Hungarian Louis, London's Gail and Paris's Paul (who opened their shops across the street from each other the same week three years ago), a fourth small chain called Euphorium, and a large Belgian chain Le Pain Quotidien. While I have had disappointing meals at Carluccio's restaurant since Antonio sold the chain a few years ago, the partner deli to the restaurant on our corner offers wonderful Italian ingredients including excellent Parmesan and mozzarella. Of course I could also walk to Giacobazzi's Italian deli famous for its prepared food and fresh pasta instead. The Rosslyn Deli is famous for its supply of American food products in the back room at laughable prices, but hey when you need molasses, corn syrup, Liptons Onion Soup Mix, or Pop-tarts, what can you do. (I buy only the first item in that list.) The deli's quality has slipped, but they are still a source for cheeses, pates, and are the closest croissant to home, when a croissant becomes essential. Bulk grains and other health foods are available at the health food store on the High Street and more intriguingly at the Mistry Chemist who takes the idea of full service health provision seriously by combining a health food store with the standard stock of a drug store. Finally, we have the supermarkets: a tiny Tesco which is useful, the giant Marks and Spencer whose offerings are as much a revelation as the Fruit Center in Hingham was 18 years ago, and the once slightly scruffy Budgens, which has now been spiffed up into a great place for lots of unusual items.

That gets us back to the title here: Too Much Good Food. I used to buy too much quilting and sewing fabric, or yarn or cookbooks. At least they have the property of keeping for a good long time -- don't they just do that, as I look at my fabric and yarn cabinets and cookbook shelves. Now I have to discipline myself when confronted with the riches of food all around me. My lovely Riverford order has just arrived, but I see that this week's broccoli now joins last week's broccoli which only looks marginally healthy. Cooking more food is one solution, but that brings us up to the fact that I live in London which means tonight we have theatre tickets, tomorrow we are having dinner with friends, and Friday we have concert tickets. When I ordered my food on Saturday, it was August, it was summer. I didn't check my calendar to see that September was here, and the autumn cultural season was beginning. What will happen to my poor broccoli.