The idea to set up a food market came about by accident as much as by intention. I’d been thinking…

Written by Max Fraser

The idea to set up a food market came about by accident as much as by intention. I’d been thinking about ways of supporting small local growers for a while, wondering how to bring their delicious produce to the community on a very human level. A food market seemed the obvious route but creating the conditions for it to succeed in a country where markets are not part of the DNA would be tricky. And then, as a regular to the walled garden of Water Lane, perhaps here the conditions were just right. Introducing the idea to them went a little something like this…

I had been living in nearby Benenden over the winter of 2021/22 and was returning again a year later. “I’ll be back for another winter in Kent,” I proclaimed. “We should do a project together!” I suggested to Nick and Ian, co-founders of Water Lane, on a visit in September. “Yes, we should,” they replied. “What have you got in mind?” Feeling pressured and somewhat on the spot, I blurted out, “How about a food market?!” Their beautiful environment outside Hawkhurst (see RyeZine No 4) seemed a perfect spot for it, straddled by their excellent restaurant housed in the garden’s original greenhouses.

Fast forward a few months and we were prototyping the Water Lane Food Market at the same time as their busy Christmas Market. Would there be an appetite for fresh food? It was popular. Two weeks later, in bitter cold and stubborn snow, we staged our first standalone food market. Would anyone show up? It was also popular. We were onto something.

Our strapline became ‘Produce with Provenance’ as we were keen to sell fresh food that is grown and produced as locally as possible with a small supply chain and with transparency around its growing ethos and production practices. For me, too much of our food is the opposite of this; ‘anonymous’ and often grown with chemicals we don’t understand using degenerative growing practices, exploiting the growers and/or animals, packaged in plastic or other preservatives and often air freighted.

The triangulation between price, choice and convenience has set us on an unworkable path where the damaging externalities of creating food in this way is not accounted for nor can it be sustained. Furthermore, the homogeneity of our food system has largely stripped the joy out of buying food. We’ve lost touch with what’s in season. We’re shielded from the toil of growing and rearing. We’ve become resigned to mysterious chemicals and excessive packaging. And by twisted misfortune, we must pay more for the food that isn’t grown with chemicals. We’re just told to consume.

There is an attitude that all our culinary whims must be always satisfied, regardless of the season. This is why we find, for example, tasteless blueberries all year round, endless air-freighted asparagus, and abundant tomatoes and green beans in the depths of winter. At our market, you’re not bamboozled with endless choice – our fruit and veg is a simple reflection of the British seasons and is mostly sourced from farms we trust in Sussex and Kent.

I’m a big believer that you must live the change you want to see, so the stories of provenance were to become important. Could we track
down and support local farms growing fruit and vegetables? Beyond that, could we find those who are embracing practices that boost soil health and biodiversity, who don’t rely on synthetic chemical inputs (and in many cases are certified organic), who are focused on nutrient density over yield or cosmetic perfection, who are striving for the best of seasonally appropriate produce? What about meat producers who are working with similar regenerative principles, keeping their animals outdoors for as long as possible on diverse pasture diets, avoiding antibiotics and opting to kill in their small local abattoirs? Can we find small local bakers who are making bread as simply as possible, using slow-fermented stoneground organic flour to retain nutrients and ease digestion? By purchasing from small local providers, can our money feed nearby communities rather than large offshore multinationals? The answers are yes, and we’re so energised to be collaborating with the gang of producers now selling at the market.

Still in its infancy, our humble food market in this pocket of West Kent provides a transparent shop window into the world of our producers, a place where you transact directly with them, talk openly, and provide feedback, learn about their growing practices and challenges, and ultimately transfer your hard-earned cash straight into their hands without an army of middlemen taking a slice.

Of course, there is great ecological, cultural, and economic complexity to what I’m saying, and no one can deny the privilege of being able to choose what they eat. You will be forgiven for not approaching the stands at our market with these points at the forefront of your mind. However, for a few hours on a Saturday morning, I defy anyone not to get a tingle of satisfaction buying into the deliciousness on display. Perhaps it’s the eye-popping pink new-season rhubarb, lusciously green Savoy cabbages, or the mixed salad bags hand harvested only metres away that take your fancy. Your taste buds will surely be lured towards the piles of freshly baked bread and naughty handmade pastries. For meat eaters, special occasions are made for nutrient dense cuts of native breed pasture-raised lamb, mutton, pork and beef. Or maybe steal yourself away with a hard-to-find farmhouse cheese. Complement all of this goodness with gut-loving kombuchas and wild-fermented wines and ciders.