The most enjoyable meals I have eaten are always simple and informal, cooked by someone with the confidence to let the best seasonal, local ingredients speak for themselves. The service is generous and human, without being fawning, intrusive, or judgmental; I don’t want to have to prove I am worthy of the food. The joy they bring bears little relation to the price, and the surroundings are often humble.
On reflection, I realise that I have spent my life searching for the kitchen table where my mother served lunch every day for our family and farm staff, mostly using produce from her garden and the farm. Her kitchen was the heart of the farm, especially in winter, when it was the only warm room. “What are you cooking, Mum?” – “I don’t know yet.” It just seemed to happen while life raged on around her. Mrs Beeton, Elizabeth David, and Jane Grigson were her starting points. If she hadn’t been so busy raising five children and numerous calves, she could have been famous in the vein of Myrtle Allen, Joyce Molyneux, or Ruth Rogers. That familiarity with food rubbed off; her children are all confident cooks, and all work in food and farming, within four miles of the house we were born in.
I long for a world where food brings us together, rather than dividing us and defining our class. The best food has peasant origins; how did we turn it into a battle of pretentious one-upmanship at one end, and ultra-processed ill health at the other? I grew up assuming my experience of food was universal. After finding out this was far from the truth, I devoted much of my life to sharing my unusual and precious introduction to food as widely as possible. Initially, that meant founding Riverford’s veg box scheme – a giant version of my mother’s garden.
Then, 20 years ago this month, it meant opening our Devon farm restaurant, The Riverford Field Kitchen – a larger version of her kitchen. There was just one set menu, which changed daily and with the seasons, according to what was at its best in our fields. The tables were long, with generous dishes served for sharing. The service was leisurely and informal. The kitchen was open, and the prices were affordable. It was a hit from the first, and over 20 years, it has only grown better. Many have imitated it, but, outside of one farm restaurant in Italy where we shared our meal with the local mafia, I have yet to see it outdone. I think my mum would have loved it.
Our News from the Farm posts come from Riverford. They are the digital versions of the printed letters which go out to customers, every week via Riverford’s veg boxes. Guy Singh-Watson’s weekly newsletters connect people to the farm with refreshingly honest accounts of the trials and tribulations of producing organic food, and the occasional rant about farming, ethical and business issues he feels strongly about.
It makes me mad that so many people are conned into buying ultra-processed food because it is quicker! I cook all meals from scratch using local produce and our own home grown organic fruit & veg. We only have a small garden but it is amazing how much you can grow using lots of pots. All the home grown veg is virtually free food. I have seen this done on a balcony and lots of cities have allotments. As for quickness a stir fry with rice or pasta only takes about 25 minutes, a meal can be left in a slow cooker to be ready as soon as you arrive home and it takes no time to coook a meal in an air fryer.
Yes, yes ,yes!
How this rings such resonance for me.
I long ago despaired of the nonsense of ” fine eating” – have come to hate the way that many restaurants are run, and the endless b******t around menus and “the experience”.
Many of my most enjoyable meals have been in little local places, where what’s on the menu is what they are cooking that day.
I long to be able to eat out, and have a meal that is even half as good as at home, and not to have to listen to recorded music, et al.
Thanks, Guy – spot on as ever!
Richard