Market forces

When you buy from the city's produce markets, don't assume the merchandise is top-notch or even that the groceries are green

When you buy from the city's produce markets, don't assume the merchandise is top-notch or even that the groceries are green

My love of food markets is beyond romance and transcends the dinky street-produce precincts of all our inner cities. That’s not to say that we don’t do urban produce markets well, we just don’t do them anywhere near as well as the rest of the world. Of course, there are exceptions but, generally speaking, the sophisticated markets of Asia, Europe and the Middle East leave us for dead.

The main distinction is that our local markets lack the essential element that makes a market a true market: growers! We’re missing the whole farm-to-plate element. So-called growers’ markets have sprung up all over the place, but they tend to be more about struggling manufacturers and food distributors than genuine growers.

Sydney’s street markets tend to be filled with charlatans proffering out-of-date cheeses and imported olives dollied up with a bit of dead lemon peel and a few gratuitous sprigs of herbs, or withered vegetables with only one degree of separation from the compost heap.

I’m not slagging off the source of the food. As the “well” of the Emerald City’s produce, I think the Sydney Market at Flemington is wondrously life-affirming. It just doesn’t have the diversity of foreign markets.

I generally visit Flemington twice a week and have the luxury of a highly respected market elder named Con chaperoning me around. His knowledge is vast and he’s a passionate educator. He has a 30-year association with green groceries and his mantra is that all produce should bring “excitement to the palate”. He teaches me the difference between good and great, and keeps me seasonally focused.

Often Con will guide me to an obscure corner of the market, most recently to inspect and purchase the most thrilling tomatoes I can ever remember eating. The transaction was done much in the way I imagine a drug deal is done. A brief call to confirm the eagle had landed, a glance over his shoulder, a signal to acknowledge the grower in the distance, a once-over of the merchandise, a financial exchange and quick discussion about the next drop.

What I also find terribly disheartening is the lack of our chefs at markets, and why some of our so-called “fine diners” have menus that don’t allow us to eat foods in their natural season. Perhaps if chefs supported growers and gave them more confidence, the growers would support them with better produce.

I’m not disparaging our fruit and vegetable wholesalers – after all, they can only supply what there is demand for. It’s just common sense to eat things that are in season, when they are more delicious and nourishing, more abundant and, as a result, lower in price. March is the best time for pomegranates and quinces, both “love fruits” from the Middle East and perfect for leading us into the slow-cooking seasons of autumn and winter. Grapes, available year-round, are also best eaten now, as are pears, apples and the black figs that signal the end of the fig season.

Markets will only ever be what consumers make of them. If we want better markets and better quality we simply have to ask, and if we’re not getting what we want then we should vote with our feet.