Why the market beats the supermarket trolley

A Saturday morning at a farmers' market is one of the quiet joys of British country life. The stalls go up before eight, the smell of bacon rolls drifts across the square, and by half past nine there is a proper queue at the cheese table. Beyond the atmosphere, though, there is a practical case for filling your basket there rather than at the supermarket.

Most produce sold at a market was picked within a day or two of you buying it, often within twenty or thirty miles of where you stand. That means fewer food miles, less refrigeration and far less of the packaging that comes wrapped around a supermarket shop. It also means flavour: a carrot lifted from the ground on Friday tastes nothing like one that has spent a fortnight in a chiller. And the money stays local, going straight to the grower rather than being spread across hauliers, packers and distant shareholders.

What to bring with you

Half the trick of shopping well at a market is arriving prepared. A little forward planning makes the whole trip calmer and cheaper.

• Cash and small change. Many stallholders now take cards, but the smallest producers at the end of the row often do not. A pocket of coins and a few notes keeps things moving when the queue is ten deep.
• Your own bags. Sturdy cotton totes, a couple of paper bags for mushrooms and soft fruit, and a basket if you have one. Most traders are delighted to skip the plastic.
• A cool bag or box. Essential if you are buying meat, cheese, fish or milk and plan to linger. Leave it in the car boot with a frozen block inside.
• A rough list, not a rigid one. Know what you genuinely need for the week, then stay open to whatever looks good on the day.
• A bit of patience. Markets are social places. Chatting is part of the experience, not an obstacle to it.

The questions worth asking

Stallholders are usually the growers, bakers or makers themselves, which means you can ask things a supermarket label never answers.

Ask when something was picked, because with soft fruit and salad, "this morning" and "yesterday" are worlds apart. Ask about variety, as taste often lives in the older, less uniform kinds that never make it onto a supermarket shelf. Ask how the vegetables were grown: whether sprays were used, whether the soil is fed with compost, whether the animals were pasture-fed. Ask what is coming next week so you can plan around it. And ask what to do with anything unfamiliar. I have never met a grower who did not light up at the chance to explain how to cook a bunch of cavolo nero or a punnet of damsons.

Shopping the seasons, week by week

Seasonal eating sounds worthy; in practice it is simply a matter of buying what looks abundant and cheap. If a stall has a mountain of it, it is in season.

• Spring: purple sprouting broccoli, rhubarb, wild garlic, new potatoes and the first asparagus.
• Early summer: broad beans, peas, lettuce, radishes, strawberries and gooseberries.
• High summer: runner beans, courgettes, tomatoes, sweetcorn, cherries, raspberries and plums.
• Autumn: squashes and pumpkins, apples, pears, beetroot, leeks, cobnuts and the last of the tomatoes.
• Winter: kale, sprouts, parsnips, swede, celeriac, forced rhubarb and stored onions, carrots and potatoes.

Making the haul last

Coming home with a bulging basket is lovely; watching it wilt by Wednesday is not. Unpack with a little care. Salad leaves and herbs keep best wrapped in a damp cloth in the fridge, while root vegetables prefer a cool, dark cupboard or a sack in the shed. Tomatoes taste better at room temperature and hate the fridge. Do not wash soft fruit until you are ready to eat it.

If you have overbought, which is easy when a tray of courgettes is going for a pound, treat it as a cue to cook. Ratatouille, chutney, soup and trays of roasted vegetables all freeze beautifully. A glut of fruit becomes jam, crumble filling or a bottle of cordial. This is how a market shop quietly fills the freezer and cuts the weekly food bill at the same time.

Becoming a regular

The real reward comes with repetition. Turn up most weeks and you stop being a customer and start being a face. Traders will set things aside for you, tell you when the first asparagus is due, and slip an extra apple in the bag for a child. Some will take a pre-order for a Christmas bird or a box of tomatoes for preserving.

Go early for the best choice, or late for the bargains, as many stalls would rather sell cheaply than pack everything away. Either way, take your time. A market is not just a shop; it is the weekly rhythm of a town, and one of the simplest ways to eat well, waste less and keep the countryside working.