I wasn't quite sure what to expect of annual food and drink showcase Taste of Edinburgh before it set up camp for 3 food-filled days in Inverleith Park. Like local land rights campaigner Andy Wightman, the entrance fee surprised me, although for different reasons.
At issue for Wightman is the protection of common rights on public land. His view is that before Edinburgh City Council can allow the creation of a paid-access site in a public park, even a temporary site, it needs local public consent through what's called a Section 11 order.
The Taste event didn't have one, so Wightman turned up to, in his own words, "exercise my civic and legal right to wander across that part of the park which these people are cordoning off." He reportedly spent some time arguing his case with the local constabulary on the outside of Taste's metal-grill, perimetre fence. He declined the organisers' offer of entrance as a special "guest".
While Wightman may have a point, I was unclear as to why people pay a £12 entrance fee (and up to £48 for access to the VIP area) for a four hour "session" when the event seems to be essentially a marketing exercise for the food and drink industry. You'd have thought the more the merrier - after all we are all fans of food. What's more, while the bite-sized tastings are free, once you've paid an entrance fee you still have to open your wallet again for more substantial helpings. Still, thousands attend these Taste events - and presumably most pay - so it was time to investigate.
Approaching Inverleith Park yesterday evening, a large, hollowed out blue cheese discarded on the side of the pavement and a waft of sauted garlic announced that Taste of Edinburgh was in full swing. After wind and drizzle, Edinburgh's elusive sun was coming out and, unlike my earlier, brief visit on Friday afternoon, so were the people.
At first, I was struck that this was very much like a large-scale farmer's market, with more stalls selling upmarket and artisan food and drink. But that doesn't really capture it. It's more of a social event with punters swilling real ale, champagne, wine, and other exhibiting beverages on the grass while a group pump out golden oldies on a central bandstand; celebrity chefs, on stages to the left and right, perform to attentive crowds, and people cram around the food and drink stalls for taster sessions and to hear the soft sales pitch.
The main attraction of a foodie event such as this is the tasting. Everything's so self-contained on the Taste site, that you can flit easily between one stall and one stage and another. The free samples are typically small, but with so many of the vendors offering samples that's arguably a good thing as you don't want to fill up.
With appetites whetted, but unsatiated, it doesn't take much to whip up a feeding frenzy. At the end of Roy Brett's (of Ondine restaurant) humourous presentation on how to cook a Scottish seafood platter, I was waiting patiently to get a photo of the finished item, before I realised that the crowd that rushed to the front as he finished were falling on the tasty morcels like a flock of starved gulls. Maybe that's why Taste of Edinburgh organisers Stripe Events is not jumping at the chance to draw in the hungry hordes with free access.
The event, as the name suggests, has a definite Scottish flavour, although Taste spreads its net far and wide to draw in international products. In a short space of time I sampled innumerable creamy coffee liqueurs, venison haggis, a delicious black pudding, gourmet soups and spicy couscous, three vintages of Glenfiddich malt (gaining insights into the subtleties of each), discovered Scottish cider, then Chilean bubbly, tried Portugese port with a strong, chalky variety of cheese and parma ham, tested a variety of Scottish ales, warmed myself with some soups, and scarfed a smoky Scottish seafood. Stallholders offered welcome insights to their product throughout.
Some of the local Edinburgh restaurants also had catering stands offering more substantial sample dishes from their menus at slimmed down prices - the queues suggested these were popular.
It is interesting to note that as well as setting up its tiny fiefdom on public land, Taste of Edinburgh temporarily introduces its own currency: Taste Crowns.
A Crown is worth 50 pence. You buy it from the Taste "bank" or the various official Crown dealers who can be found walking around the site. Signature dishes from specialty restaurants ranged from 6 Crowns to 10 Crowns. Apparently there were some spots where only Crowns were accepted. But conversely not all stallholders accepted Crowns. Only pounds. Usually goods were priced in both currencies.
One stallholder confided that Taste charges stallholders a significant commission on Crowns traded in, so cash was usually preferred. To me, this alternative currency thing seemed an unnecessary complication.
Some foodies, particularly of a vegetarian bent, would probably bemoan the dearth of produce, although late May is not Scotland's most productive time of year. Taste food is more red than green.
The tasting also creates a great deal of waste, since most of the time the soupcons and food samples come in tiny, disposable plastic cups for drinks (although kudos to those wine merchants who were using real wine glasses) and plastic cutlery and plates. Next time I'd go armed with my own stainless steel tasting utensil.
These gripes are things that the organisers of Taste of Edinburgh can address next time. In spite of the corporate nature of the event, the general set-up provides an enjoyable, informal introduction to new foods and drinks and plenty of culinary inspiration.
Taste of Edinburgh ran 28 - 30 May. You may be interested in the Royal Highland Show