(first published in British Baker)
The idea I had all that time ago was simple enough. Why not take a group of bakers out to another country, let them take over a bakery and each create the production for one night. Every night for five days, one baker would bake breads that reflected the breadth of culinary skill within Britain, a country whose population embrace the foods of other cultures with more gusto than any other in Europe. But a group of bakers whose skill typified the excellence abound in that region. Making whatever breads they chose provided they produce work to be proud of. Displaying excellence through the loaves baked.
There was an event, taking place in Turin, Italy, that seemed to suit this proposal. The ‘Salone del Gusto’ (literally the ‘hall of taste’) is held every two years by the Slow Food Organisation. The Salone is the largest artisanal food fair in the world, attracting in 1998 over 150,000 of industry and consumer visitors, and generating a large amount of food press coverage through radio, television, and print.
Slow Food’s aim is to keep the cost of the stands low so that it can attract smaller regional producers, and in turn present a rich a varied selection of food excellence. This meant we could take a stand at the fair, bringing each morning a selection of breads baked in a local bakery.
Well, all this made sense to me. In fact, the potential of this sort of exchange, it’s precedence throughout the past hundred years of baking in Britain, the narrative that lends itself so well to media promotion, seemed a sure fire hit. Surely, it would be a doddle raising the finance to fund this event, initially a modest few thousand pounds. After all the talk about gathering support for the industry, working together for a common goal, I felt sure it was a simple task. A humble request. Well, my folks, thank you for clarifying my misapprehension. Over 5 months of telephone calls, letters, faxes and emails, opened my eyes to the realities of fundraising.
I eventually found a formidable ally, in Alex Waugh and his team at the Flour Advisory Bureau (FAB), who represent the milling industry in the UK. I proposed a group of bakers from the central London area. The bakers approached were Matthew Jones (then at Flour Power), Manuel Monade (then at St. John), Stuart Powell (then at Bluebird), Clinton Kay (then at Clarke’s), and Dan Schickentanz (from De Gustibus). I chose them because they were interesting, innovative, skilled in craft baking, and to a certain extent, looked and sounded good on camera.
These bakers were not meant to represent Britain, or even London, though the media naturally tried to create that impression. However, they were typical of those bakers in this country who desperately wanted to change the way bread is perceived, and who were then willing to stay true to their beliefs rather than be swayed by cheap bread consumerism. Perhaps I was fearful, too, that any attempt to turn the event into a competition would drive a stake through the heart of a rather simple motive. Defining who was the finest baker in London would have been an event in itself, and certainly open to argument even after the cherished award was presented. But this was not about competition, but co-operation and community building. The core beliefs of the Slow Food Movement.
I also saw it as a very small step amongst the many needed to drive change through. One aim was to openly embrace the multicultural nature of baking in London, thus the bakers also represented a few of the many nationalities that make up our British baking industry. There was originally a woman on board, Sally Ague, but she declined due to a back injury. But all this had to be planned very quickly, as the logistics of the event need some time to organise.
The Federation of Artisanal Bakers in Turin offered a bakery near the exhibition hall. The Milling Industry in this country offered British flour to bake with. And ITV, BBC Radio 4, and the Independent on Sunday offered to travel with us to give coverage to our efforts. We produced a small colour brochure for FAB as part of our support of their sponsorship, which could also be given out on the stand. Everything was shaping up so well. But then the rains came.
Turin, in northern Italy, was the scene of almost biblical flooding immediately before the event. This delayed the flour being shipped, and threatened the whole trip. But we marched on. And on the Tuesday night, the baking began in earnest. Each night two or three bakers worked together to bake the bread. This was partly due to one of the bakers pulling out of the event after arriving in Italy, and realising it was not what he had expected. Here I discovered how, for some, self-interest rules over commitment to a common goal.
But this brought the remaining bakers closer together, and created a benefit none of us had predicted. You see, many bakers have to leave their employment in order to learn from others. In Italy, the bakers had their techniques and recipes open for others to see and learn from. So, the group bakery that we had created could generate benefit at events here in Britain.
The breads baked were a huge success. Both with the press, the public and the Italian bakers, who initially were doubtful that any baking skill existed in the UK. And through all of the work I had put in to organising the event, I was left with the feeling that it had been worthwhile.
It stressed the need to rediscover the regional differences in our British baking, grouping together as bakers from different counties. To be Yorkshire, Warwickshire, and Kentish bakers proudly, rather than huddled uncomfortably under the term British. It reminded me that we share so much in common with bakers from other countries, and that a border-crossing community spirit can survive without loosing regional identity. And, that many more events of this type need to be created until we saturate the press and public with our presence.
