Catherine Kilgour is one half of Scottish caterers Wild Rover Food. But apart from travelling around in her trusty old (1961!) Series 2 Land Rover, and sourcing food directly from local farms and hedgerows, Catherine is a writer. And she wanted to let the BSFA know who she fancies for the Best Street Food Market in the 2012 Awards….

Public spaces, when they’re used well, can generate social cohesion and a sense of community spirit; when they’re not used well, however, they suffer from antisocial behaviour and environmental neglect. That was what was happening in Edinburgh’s Stockbridge town: it was what every budding Landscape Architect dreads – ‘dead space’.

That was until last September, when the heroic Beth Berry opened Stockbridge Market in Jubilee Gardens, and filled it full of traders. I say ‘heroic’ because it took Beth two years and the patience of a foodie saint to get permission from Edinburgh Council. And I say ‘full’ because Jubilee Gardens wasn’t just hosting pigeons last Sunday – there were crowds of people.

Now you’d be forgiven – on initial inspection – for thinking Stockbridge was a Farmer’s Market, for it has its organic vegetable stalls, farm meat and artisan bread. But there is a range of traders contributing to the ‘buzz’: Ridley’s Game and Fish dealers, all the way from Hexham; Vintage Remix with its range of vinyl refashioned artworks; and Street Food in Scotland.

Nestled nicely between the preserves and pickles, there were no less than five street food traders busily selling last Sunday. Kaori Tsuji-Simpson of the Harajuku Kitchen (above) is bringing her third-generation Japanese food from the kitchens of her 76 year old mother’s restaurant (still cooking) to the street scene. Kaori cooks up Udon noodles, dumplings and miso soup.

“My inspiration comes from the streets of Harajuku itself”, she tells me. “It’s a very passionate, artistic place — a bit like London’s Soho. My great grandfather was a Samurai, and when they were abolished he converted his home into a traditional Japanese restaurant, with Geishas and dancing. That was the start of our family’s cooking tradition.”

Just along from Harajuku Kitchen, Rachna Dheer is also sharing her childhood memories through freshly-cooked food from the Babu Bombay Street Kitchen. Nearly a year on from her first customer, Rachna is now pretty much running an Indian deli. “We’ve got chutneys and marinades,” she says, “chai masala, savoury cakes and tiffin — as well as fresh hot food.”

Stockbridge now has more than 40 traders. “We’ve survived the winter,” Beth smiles, “and we’re planning to start Thursday trading as soon as we’re into the sunnier evenings.” That should go down well with the local shops – they’ve never been busier. With Jubilee Gardens firmly back in the public realm, let’s hope it goes down well with the Council too.

It’s the latest victory in the ongoing democratisation of French food. Two centuries after Antonin Carême introduced grande cuisine, France is (again) in revolt. And it’s right that it should take place on the streets of Paris. It’s being led by Le Fooding, a new movement that’s ranged against the old-fashioned restaurants and their outdated approach to food. In the brave new world of Le Fooding, the Michelin guide will be ripped up, and the restaurants of France, once again, will be reclaimed by the people. Allons, enfants de la patrie.

Le Fooding was founded 10 years ago by Alexandre Cammas and Emmanuel Rubin, two food journalists who were exasperated by the conformity and conservatism of French food culture. Every year it publishes, from its dusty offices on the Right Bank, a good-looking guide to the best restaurants of France. With no grades, or stars, it’s very different from the Michelin guide. “Michelin inspectors look at the rugs in a restaurant” says Cammas, “and they measure the chandeliers. Two stars? Three stars? Who really cares? It should all be about the food.” They’re getting there……..

I love ambling through Whitecross Street market, mid-morning, when the traders are sizzling onions, slicing lemongrass and swearing at the pigeons — in equal measure. Apart from the fact that most of the food isn’t ready to buy, it’s the best time to look around the market without bumping into the slow moving traffic of curry-seeking suits and quinoa-craving hipsters. There’s been traders at Whitecross Street since the 17th century but, by the 19th century, the area was a by-word for poverty and alcoholic depravation. Unfair really — it was just the ‘morning after’ the City-wide piss up that was London’s Victorian gin epidemic.

The area still gets a bit Crimewatch on the weekends, especially outside Waitrose, with kids swirling around on BMXs and hatchbacks gobbing out rap music. And if you want a snapshot of the ravages of generations of alcohol abuse then do pop into the Whitecross Street Wetherspoons – anytime from 9am – which is, incidentally, the city’s best value old people’s home. But if it’s not social anthropology you’re after, you come to Whitecross Street to eat the food.

There’s Wholefood Heaven, who won the Best Main Dish at last year’s British Street Food Awards. And Luardo’s, proving the real depth and diversity of Mexican food. But new kid on the block is Andy Waugh, with his Wild Game Co serving up top-notch game, mostly in the form of sausage and stew, for a little over a fiver. As he says, “There’s a demand for upmarket food here. I’m going to step it up this year with a stunning steak and chips, which will be a bit more expensive. People here don’t mind paying for quality”.

The history of this particular game stand is as rich as the Wild Game Co venison stew. For over 30 years Andy’s family have been butchering game at their farm in the Scottish village of Ardgay, 45 minutes north of Inverness. During summer holidays away from university Andy worked at the family farm, learning about the business, but found himself in the capital working a string of ‘City’ jobs, none of which he could get too excited about. Increasingly, he was taking orders for his family’s superior meat on the side. “One thing led to another,” says Andy, and in August 2010 The Wild Game Co was born.

Game is still seen as rich man’s food. The perception is that it’s ‘snobby’. But Andy’s charming and animated approach is starting to bring the meat of the field to a wider audience. When I met him, just before the lunchtime rush on a wet Friday, his grill was lined with game sausages and a huge hunk of venison steak. They are the best sellers, but — as we talked — he took orders for pigeon (let’s call it the market trader’s revenge) and partridge.The venison steak was sliced from a huge sizzling haunch (the buttock and thigh meat) — it’s a much less active muscle than shoulder or leg, meaning it can be cooked quickly, and served rare. The result was a soft, juicy and sweet-tasting steak that caused no problems for plastic cutlery.

As well as trading good volumes of steak salads, pigeon sandwiches and fresh meat to cook at home from his daily market stall, Andy co-runs the ‘part-time’ restaurant in Islington’s Chapel Market with seafood caterers Bonnie Gull Ltd. An old-school pie and mash shop in the day, replete with wooden booths, marble tables and artisan tiled walls, the diner is transformed by the flicker of candle light into the Bonnie & Wild. Here, head chef Iain Sim, of Edinburgh’s award winning Mussel Inn, offers a three course set menu for £29, consisting of a mixture of game and seafood dishes ranging from barbecued razor clams to pan-fried wild Scottish girolles.

★★★★

Lunch £5-7; you can find The Wild Game Co at the lunchtime market on Whitecross Street (EC1) Monday to Friday, Broadway Market (E8) on Saturdays and the The Bonnie & Wild at 71 Chapel Market (N1) on Friday and Saturday evenings.

But now some bright sparks at Innocent Towers have decided to go mobile themselves. In the month of September they’re hitting the road in their HGV – or Hungry Grassy Van – to feed us our five-a-day with a healthy menu of lamb kofte pittas, veggie burgers and tomato curry. The HGV will visit Bristol, Manchester and Glasgow to promote Hungry, the new Innocent cookbook, and they’re starting off in London on September 9. Shame that all good people will be at the British Street Food Awards at Harvest At Jimmy’s. But do feel free to catch them in the weeks that follow…….

The chestnut seller on the South Bank got me thinking about Christmas. It wasn’t his welcoming spirit – God no. He was French. And the most miserable mobiler I’ve come across in a long time. But he still got me thinking. At this time of year, when I’m dreaming of long wreaths of sausages, hocks of ham, and seething bowls of punch that make the front room dim with steam, I like to wassail. The English have always “wassailed” rather well at Christmas. In Speculum Stultorum by Nigellus Wireker (an ideal stocking filler, by the way) the English students at the university of Paris were praised for their generosity, but damned for being “addicted to wassail”.

The wassail bowl was as big as a cauldron, and kept warm over the burning yule log. On New Year’s Day, the children would take the bowl to their friends – a practice that became known as ‘wassailing’. If there was any left over (unlikely, given that this was before Diamond White cider was freely available from unscrupulous off-licences) the holiday ale would then get poured over the land – or fed to the livestock – in an attempt to boost fertility for the next season. It was a strong old drink – guaranteed to have you decking the halls whether you want to or not.

In A Christmas Carol, by Charles Dickens, Scrooge proposes that he and Bob Cratchit discuss the future “over a bowl of Smoking Bishop”. This punch, sometimes called ‘purple wine’, earnt the name ‘Bishop’ from its colour. Although a real bishop does give a very particular flavour. It’s made by pouring red wine over ripe, bitter oranges. The liquor is heated (or ‘mulled’) in an old pan which can be pushed back into the fire. Sugar and spices (chiefly cloves, star anise, and cinnamon) are added to taste. Smoking Bishop always gets me donning my gay apparel.

I can’t wait. Champagne for breakfast, sherry with the neighbours, and then dry white wine with lunch. Followed by heavy red wine, sweet white wine, port, brandy and whisky. I never remember the Queen’s speech. In France, their Biere de Noel arrives for a limited season only. A friend of mine was in Normandy on Boxing Day last year, and had the temerity to ask the bar owner for a Biere de Noel. He was met by scenes resembling a Bateman cartoon. “Mais Monsieur, Noel est…parti”. Wonder if the bar owner was related to that chestnut seller on the South Bank?

I remember a time when it was different. When a ‘free refill’ was a threat rather than a promise. When coffee tasted like tea. I remember industry insiders talking about toasted bran and chicory as “the new coffee” because coffee was dead. But then came Frasier and Friends, and all of a sudden we were ordering double skinnies like we knew what it actually meant. Now coffee shops are everywhere. Baristas are busily swathing espressos in hot milk, whipped cream and flavoured syrup, and handing us back something that looks like an ice-cream sundae. Which isn’t always a good thing.

You see espresso isn’t a solution but a colloid—a mixture of liquids, gases and finely dispersed solids. It has more than 1,500 chemical components detectable by taste and smell—far more than wine. A good espresso will give you an aftertaste that can last for 20 minutes, making it a good match for a short cigar. Wine, which we get terribly uppity about, is judged to have ‘a long finish’ when its aftertaste lasts for over 60 seconds. So the bean and the roast are important. The double dash of raspberry syrup doesn’t really help.

My biggest gripe is with the big coffee chains who buy pre-ground coffee. Or grind enough to last them for two days. I’m here to tell you that oxidisation is public enemy number one. Which is why I liked the smaller places. All the mobilers I know use freshly ground beans. They don’t extract the espresso too quickly (anything under 20 seconds, and I recommend a simple grinder adjustment) and they don’t try to pull multiple shots from one load of coffee. They even put the right amount of steamed milk into my cup.

All I want is my uncommon grounds. Like the coffee I tasted this week from Lean Green Machine. They deserve their success. I know that it’s fashionable to knock Starbucks. And I would always prefer a good coffee cart, given the choice. But all Starbucks is actually doing is free-market capitalism. Better than anyone else. Go live in Cuba, I say. Which doesn’t sound much of a threat any more. And it’s not like we’ve got a British coffee culture to get sentimental about.

To judge by the applications I’ve had so far, Best Hot Drink is shaping up to be a busy old category. This piece in Caterer Search explains why……. 

Click here for coffee article.

If anyone told you that peddling food on the streets is a mug’s game, send them to me. This is just your average lunchtime at Daddy Donkey’s ‘burro-mobile’ in London’s Leather Lane Market. And judging by the high-end knitwear in the photograph, these guys have money to spend. According to the woman who nominated them (a Tex-Mex loving American, no less) the burritos and tacos are without a doubt the best Mexican food in the UK. I take that with a pinch of salt. And a squeeze of lemon. But keep the nominations coming.