Succulent quality, matured Aberdeen Angus beef

The whole Mediterranean ... the wine, the ideas ... seems to ride in the sour pungent taste of those black olives ... A taste older than meat, older than wine. A taste as old as cold water.

Award winning jams, chutneys, marmalade, curd and jelly.

The Veggie Deli

Conceived in the Caribbean. Born in Devon

Seeing is deceiving. It's eating that's believing.

Nothing that lifts the spirit and strengthens the soul more than a good chili.

Red Rock Brewery

And the Quangle Wangle said To himself on the Crumpetty Tree,--'Jam; and Jelly; and bread; Are the best of food for me!

He that drinks his Cyder alone, let him catch his Horse alone.

Gourmet microgreens

"Do not be afraid to talk about food. Food which is worth eating is worth discussing. And there is the occult power of words which somehow will develop its qualities." X. Marcel Boulestin, chef, food writer (1878-1943)

BELOW IS AN ARTICLE THAT HAS BEEN SUBMITTED TO THE TGFS WEBSITE BY A LOCAL GIRL WHO HAS AMBITIONS TO BECOME A JOURNALIST AND FOOD WRITER
MY IMPRESSIONS OF THE TOTNES GOOD FOOD MARKET, SUNDAY 17 APRIL - by Lila Randall
Totnes market square was bathed in spring sunshine as I wondered across it at 8am on a Sunday morning. The Totnes Good Food market (held on the third Sunday of each month) was just coming to life and arriving early meant I was lured into the smells, colours and sounds of this popular event.
Sitting on the edge of the square I pleasured in witnessing the traders arriving, finding their pitches, unloading their produce. One by one, the stalls were erected and I had time to make a mental check list of the stands I wanted to visit; before long I realised I had counted them all! “Good mornings” and jokes about questionable looking objects were shared. Hands were lent as newcomers struggled with the foreboding task of putting up their marquee, “need a degree in mathematics to put that thing up”, a cry rang out.
As I stepped from my chosen pew a cheeky smile shone my way; a sprightly older gentleman had caught my eye and I found myself conversing about his exquisite jam, pineapple ginger and rum was the one I promptly bought. During this first encounter I discovered that eccentric characters such as he were ready to share their lives over a sale that doesn’t push but merely tests your will power.
Once in among the awnings, with small talk pressed aside, I tasted samples and queried the stall-holders of pastries, chorizo, chilli, ale, meat, chutney, wine, olives, plants, cordials – I could not be kept to any limit. As the pathways began to fill, I realised I was not the only one. Whilst Caribbean flavours were bubbling on the hob a man stood with his back pressed against the root of a tree; sign to his left selling local eggs.
I felt overcome with satisfaction; a small town in the countryside was host to such a unique collaboration of worldly flavours and the very best of fresh, local ingredients. With my bag and stomach bloated, the sweet yellow plums were the last to catch my eye and so was the vegetable vendor “ working on a Sunday may be sacrilegious, but it is a good market”.