Kent vs Rest of the World

The drip drip of constant advertising that assailed me every time I opened a local paper or drove past an advertising hoarding, promised that this would set a new glittering standard in the history of food events. The “Kent vs The Rest of The World” food show, at the Hop Farm Paddock Wood, was going to raise the bar. Look out rest-of-the-world, here comes Kent.

The concept behind this annual event, according to the papershop posters, was to show off the extraordinary array of fresh produce, county specialities and local culinary talent Kent has to offer. I know it is to become an annual event, because the ads refer to it as the “1st Annual Kent vs Rest of the World show”.

So who is representing the rest of the world? What gastronomic ambassadors will be flying the brightly coloured flags of Ghana, Thailand and Peru? Well, none actually. The global food village was to be represented by two teams of French students. Still, I was sure that even a battle royal between competing chef schools, separated by 22 miles of dirty water would prove to be a real spectacle.

Wrong.

It was like ‘Ready, Steady, Cook’, but without the dubious charms of celebrity chefs and with a host who was struggling to find anything to say about the four small gangs of teenagers who were busy trying to remember how long to a cook pot noodle for. Plus, in ‘Ready, Steady, Cook’, the audience actually gives a damn.

The hapless cooks laboured away on a stage that rendered their efforts invisible to the audience, whilst a grizzled looking vagrant, wearing a white chefs’ coat and Madonna style cheek-microphone, prattled on about how exciting the whole thing was. Meanwhile the few people watching (who presumably wandered into the marquee to shelter from the cold wind) chatted amongst themselves and drank horrible tea from polystyrene cups.

The rest of the space was filled with a grim array of food stalls - a cross between a farmers market and a boot fair, which included a chocolate fountain and an Italian cake stand. I felt tears of pride welling up in my eyes. Or maybe that was a waft of traditional Kent ‘Curry in a Pitta Pocket’, available from a stall by the exit.

And that was it. Really.

Kent, the garden of England, was represented by a bunch of second rate food stalls, some teenage trainee cooks, two breweries (one was pretty good actually - The Nelson Brewing Company) and a bar that did not feature a single real ale, let alone one produced with Kent hops.

I never did see who won the teenage ‘cook off’- but I can tell you that the produce of Kent was the loser.

Written by exmonkey on March 26th, 2007 with no comments.
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