The Traveling Foodie: Saturday Morning at Edinburgh’s Farmers’ Market

Hannah Hausaur discovers Edinburgh’s farmers’ markets

Editor’s note: Hannah is a Harvard senior spending a semester abroad in Scotland.

As  I rounded the cobblestone road, Edinburgh castle came into view,  suspended on jagged, rocky cliffs, a majestic beacon for the capital city of Scotland.  But I wasn’t here for a history tour on William Wallace or Robert Burns – I was ready for my Saturday morning culinary tour.

Like nearly all mornings in Scotland, it was cold and blustery.  My three flatmates and I had left our apartment on Warrender Park Road with a pack-a-mac (rain jacket) and brolly (umbrella) eager to explore the Edinburgh Farmers’ Market. As a Bay Area native, my standards for farmers’ markets are high, especially in September after a summer’s worth of nectaplums, sweet Brentwood corn, and dry farmed tomatoes.  I might be biased, but the bountiful summer produce grown in Northern California is incomparable.

Franticly looking from side-to-side, still not sure how to safely cross British roads, I saw the tops of the green-and-white striped tents amidst bustling people carrying bags in one hand and brollies in the other.

Excitement mounting in our bellies, we decided to explore the right lane of tents first and then the left, a plan which lasted for a few stalls until culinary curiosity took over.  Creelers, a fish monger and restaurant, started off the row with an array of fish and seafood: still crawling prawns as well as fresh, smoked, and gravlax salmon.  Having yet to come across wild Scottish salmon, I asked in the hopes of finding some, but, alas, the season was over.  However, Creelers did sell Loch Duart salmon – farm-raised under a sustainable rearing system which uses integrated aquaculture, ensuring that sea urchins and seaweed grow and thrive alongside the fish.

We ventured to the next stall, Arran’s Cheese Shop where a gregarious blonde woman wielding “cocktail sticks” and a Tupperware full of tastes began handing out small cubes of cheese. I eagerly munched on mustard, cranberry, garlic, cabernet, and whisky flavored cheddar, among others. There was a sharpness followed by sweet, vinegary, and earthy notes imparted from the additional flavors.

Stuffed with dairy, we moved on and, in true British fashion, the market offered lemon curd and clotted cream, stovies, handmade oatcakes, and, at 11 a.m., there was a long queue for Stoats porridge.  It seemed Scotland had reinterpreted the American taco truck: instead of selling carnitas and salsa verde from the side window of an automobile, customers could try mixed berries, almonds, and clotted cream or cinnamon and syrup, or even – since we are in kilt territory – whisky on their porridge.

A few stalls down was S.S. Dei Naufragati, or “local Scottish reality mozzarella.”  Who knew that a caseficio (Italian style creamery) existed in Lothian?  Working alongside the McCreery family on their family-run dairy farm and only using traditional, hand crafted methods, S.S. Dei Naufragati brings a little bit of Italia to the UK.

I took a bite of the fresh and smoked braided mozzarella as well as their ricotta. Unlike the piquant taste of British cheddars, the Italian mozzarella had a subtle, milky flavor. This cheese was not quite as silky soft as fresh mozzarella I’ve had at home or those I’ve tasted in Bologna; rather, it had more provolone-like consistency but still had that quintessential delicacy.

Moving from stall to stall, there were free range organic chickens and eggs, venison and cranberry burgers, ostrich, jams and jellies, along with elderflower, elderberry, raspberry, strawberry, and gooseberry wines from Carin O’Mohr Fruit Winery.

Ron, a robust and cheery old chap with a thick Scottish brogue, continued to pour and serve small tasting cups of his 13 percent alcohol content “it’s just the berries” wine.  We were interested to try these colorful, fruit wines, but didn’t want to be teetotalers before noon.

But for me, the most exciting part of the farmers’ market was the organic produce stalls.  In Europe, finding organic fruit and vegetables isn’t easy, so I broke out in a grin when I saw a beautiful array of organic lettuces, carrots, onions, beets, leeks, and zucchinis.

By the time our nearly two hour farmer’s market excursion ended, we were so full (and our wallets so light) that we didn’t picnic with our purchaes. Sated, I scurried back to Warrender Park Road fully ready to tackle the befuddling electric stove to make some applesauce from the apples I had just purchased.

I was already planning our next Saturday morning outing.