FOOD

HONESTLY, what to do about fruit and vegetables? The other day I went to Tesco, spent a terrifying amount, got home, and only then discovered that the cucumber was rotten, my four 'finest' (finest? pall!) oranges were rotten, the strawberries at the bottom of the box were, yes, rotten, and the water- melon? Surprisingly, not rotten, but entirely tasteless. It was like sucking on waterlogged cotton wool. Now, with all those trillions of pips, a watermelon really must make it worth your effort, mustn't it? This one did not. It went straight into the bin. With the other stuff. I could have taken it all back, I know. I'm sure Tesco would have done the hon- ourable thing, and apologetically refunded me. But I can only face supermarkets rarely, and never in the same day. Or week, even. I am right off Tesco at the moment, although, that said, I did go back on them a little bit when I heard that they had decided to bring back imperial measurements. I still can't do metric. Weather forecasters say, 'It's going to be 28 degrees today,' and I'm out there in balaclava, mittens and snow boots, wondering why everyone else is in a bikini. But, back to the point, which would be something of a novelty, I admit, What to do about fruit and vegetables? Organic delivery boxes? Tried that once. Total bloody disas- ter. The vegetables I recognised were appallingly dirty. It's not that I mind a bit of dirt, except that I'm a hopeless Jewish Princess, and do. Yuk! They went straight in the bin — naturally (unlike the unorganic Tesco ones, which went unnaturally). And the ones I didn't recognise were not only appallingly dirty, but appallingly spooky, too. There was one thing — which I now know to have been celeriac — that was like a big green brain. It wasn't that I didn't know how to prepare it; I didn't want to be in the same room as it! It went straight into the bin, too. (Naturally!) This went on for a month or so until even I could see that taking the box from the doorstep, cautiously inspecting the contents while wearing rubber gloves, and then chucking the whole lot out, did not make a great deal of gastronomic or eco- nomic sense.

So, again, what to do about fruit and veg- etables? And particularly plums. I like a good juicy plum. Often, when I buy them, they are hard, but that's OK, because they'll ripen in a couple of days, won't they? No! The next day? Still as hard as golf balls. The day after? Hard as golf balls. Then, one day, you leave the room for just a second — to answer the phone, or something — and, by the time you get back, they're off. Mouldy. Gone. A plum can go from rock hard to off in 0.4 seconds, can't it? (Ditto peaches, pears and nectarines.) Over the years, I must have bought crate upon crate of plums and eaten how many? Two? I can see, now, that my time at the LSC was wasted, actually, and

Deborah Ross

that I'd have been better off doing Plum Management at Birkbeck. It's a highly respected course. Obviously, I need a few lessons in fruit and veg. Plus I have many, many more questions to ask, such as: do tomatoes truly taste better `on the vine' or is someone, somewhere just taking the piss? Would apples taste better `on the twig'? Where to go, though? I call both Tesco and Sainsbury's in the hope of meeting one of their buyers, but nei- ther returns any of my calls. Presumably, everyone is much too busy tending those vast, tasteless watermelon plantations. So, instead, I go down to Broadway Fruiterers, my local greengrocers, which is run by two Greek Cypriots, Andreas Chrisanthou and Payiotis Stylianou. Their shop is very good and popu- lar and friendly. Their stuff is always beauti- fully fresh. They go to Spitalfields Market every day at 3 a.m. They are nice to small children. They give them bananas.

So why, I hear you ask, do I bother with Tesco at all? Because I can park. Because I can also get cat food and Persil. Because we live in a supermarket culture. Because they do special two-for-one-offers, which means you can get two of something you didn't especially want one of in the first place. Because I've got a Clubcard. But, mostly, because I'm a lazy, stupid old twit-head.

Andreas and Payiotis have had their shop in Crouch End — which is just north of Islington — for 16 years, and it's quite inter- esting just listening to how things have changed during this relatively short time.

Andreas: 'When we started, we stuck to traditional English veg: cauliflowers, swedes, a lot of cabbages, potatoes (although only ever two kinds), lettuces, but only round ones, although occasionally an iceberg or a cos. . . '

Payiotis: `. . and Brussels tops. Brussels tops were very popular. . . '

Andreas: . . . and leeks, parsnips, turnips, but only in season — now we have everything all year round. . . '

Me: 'Is that a good thing?' Payiotis and Andreas: 'It is for us!'

Andreas: 'People would wait for runner beans to come into season, and Jersey new potatoes. . . '

Payiotis: `. . the only herb we ever sold was a bit of mint to go with the new pota- toes. . . '

Andreas: `. . . we tried rocket once and had to throw the whole lot out. Now we sell. . . '

Payiotis: `. . two boxes a day. Same with garlic, ginger, basil... '

Andreas: . . mangoes, star fruits, papayas — they were unheard of 16 years ago.'

(I accept, by the way, that this might not be indicative of changing tastes nationally, and that in north Yorkshire they probably still gnaw on raw beet and have exciting turnip competitions.) But plums, Andreas? What should I do about my plum problem? 'Well,' he says, `don't buy them unless they are ripe and ready to eat.' Often,' he says, 'supermarkets will keep them in cold storage before putting them out, and cold storage can interfere hor- ribly with the ripening process.'

`What, so they might never ripen?' `Exactly. Or, even if they do, they'll proba- bly taste of nothing.' But that's such a rip off!' I know,' he says.

I am given a peach, which is drip-down- my-chin delicious, and then a masterclass: do tomatoes 'on the vine' actually taste any bet- ter? 'We think they do. They certainly smell like real tomatoes, at least.' Rinse it under the tap. Then bite through the skin.' How best to prepare an artichoke? 'Do you espe- cially like artichokes. No? Then forget it. It's not worth the effort.' The best watermelons? `The bigger, the sweeter and juicier, Super- markets tend to buy small ones, because they are easier to stack, You're better off buying a portion of a big one. Greek ones are good.' The best strawberries? The Dutch and Bel- gian ones look better, but don't have as good a taste as the English.'

We finish with a gripe about supermar- kets. There is a new Sainsbury's coming to Crouch End which worries them, yes. 'We're not afraid of competing on quality and price, it's the parking.' I say I don't mind Waitrose. That at least you get a better class of shopper there. They say that M&S is good, but it's `couture'. A small pack of French beans and baby corn for £1.50! 'It would cost half that here!' I say I'm not going to be such a stupid, lazy old twit-head any more. That I'm going to do all my fruit and vegetable shopping with them from now on. Long live small local shops! I might even get to know my butcher next. Goodness, I am turning into Nigella Lawson, aren't I?

Broadway Fruiterers, 15 The Broadway, Crouch End. Tel, 020 8340 8593.