A Review of Blackheath Farmers’ Market, London SE3

Are farmers’ markets sufficiently a-little-bit coffee-shop-esque?

Coffee shops and farmer’s markets are after all, part of the same package; something that Grayson Perry would satirise us for frequenting.

But maybe if I write this blog, the Blackheath Bugle is going to come after me like a mafia boss when someone hits his turf, brutally obliterating the wannabe in the first scene of one of those mafia films I’ve heard about but never seen; just to show how hard he really is.

Gutted, man. Out in the first scene.

Honest Blackheath Bugle, I’m only going to talk about the cakes. Not the beetroot.

Our visit to the farmer’s market was prompted by a NEED for strawberries and a cake to share, and DEFINITELY NO MORE THAN THAT (in the way that you do when you have eaten quite a lot this week already). That was the intention right until were mobbed by the sheer number of cake stalls with lovely friendly people trying to persuade us to buy things (after we had hqueued… just to see what is available you understand).

In the end we fell for a mandarin marmalade cake slice and a ginger flapjack.

No offense to the mandarin marmalade cake AT ALL, which was very moist and orangey and a good combination of all the grown up tastes that make growing up worthwhile; but it was the ginger flapjack that got me typing and justifying reviewing farmer’s markets as if they were coffee shops.

There is a great crime in the world, that goes under various guises – sometimes the ‘fantastic young male chef flapjack’; or the ‘chemist-named-after-footwear flapjack’ – but generally refers to something sold in plastic wrapping under artificial lighting that technically meet the definition of a flapjack. (I haven’t checked the old Oxford English, but I’m figuring Oats and Syrup appear on the list somewhere.)

And then there is flapjack (all whisper “mmm…” in your heads) a sort of viscous solid, that keeps its shaper if you squeeze it together, but also crumbles about leaving lots of little bits to pick up when you thought that the treat was all over. Where you can hold little bits of oats between your teeth and work out the syrup. Or in this case, the gingery syrup. You knew syrup went with oats, you knew that ginger went with syrup. How can this be the first time I have experienced a combination of all three?

There are other good flapjacks in the village, just waiting to be reviewed by BCS. Subscribe if you don’t want to miss them 🙂 Or just subscribe.

Can anyone see? Did the BlackheathBugle join us…? If the coast is clear, I’d just like to add – that we really like buying the butter here and we have had great success with the herb and veg growing pot stall. I WAS TALKING ABOUT COFFEE, BLACKHEATH BUGLE, THAT’S ALL.

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