The Scotsman
31 August 2005
“We are enslaved by speed,” he wrote, “and have all succumbed to the same insidious virus: Fast Life. May suitable doses of guaranteed sensual pleasure and slow, long-lasting enjoyment preserve us from the contagion of the multitude who mistake frenzy for efficiency.”
Petrini’s original idea was simple. Processed, massproduced, artificial and bland foods are out. Local, fresh, seasonal and tasty foods are in. This means picking local artisan producers over supermarkets, and taking a healthy interest in how food is cultivated, cooked and consumed. It also means paying attention to nature’s rhythms and eating whatever is in season rather than what is simply fashionable. Uniform chain-store fodder should be given the thumbs-down in favour of rare local delicacies, which will taste infinitely more impressive when served up at a dinner party anyway.
When done properly, Slow Food should mean a healthier, more environmentally aware, community-conscious and enjoyable way of dining.
You don’t have to be a food snob or environmental activist to pin your colours to this mast. Who among us wouldn’t love to eat this way? But, in between snail-tailing it through the traffic to work, doing our share of the school run and generally working as hard as we can to pay for the roofs over our heads, how can we find the time to introduce slow food principles to our very fast 21st-century lives? More easily than many of us might think, it turns out.
Donald Reid, spokesperson for Slow Food in Scotland, assured me that I wouldn’t have to start picking my own berries or spend hours slaving over a hot stove. Yes, there are slow foodies who do grow their own vegetables and bake their own daily bread, but the movement does not necessarily advocate a strict, purist lifestyle. “If people want to do that, that’s absolutely fine,” says Reid. “But members don’t carry any kind of pledge card and we don’t have strict rules to obey. It’s not like ‘you should eat this or you shouldn’t eat that’. It’s about incorporating the Slow Food philosophy wherever you can into day-to-day life.”
Like many people, my day-to-day life involves a full-time job and all the time restrictions which come with that. As lovely as Slow Food sounds, I am not ready to give up my evening down-time to make batches of jam, or my Saturday morning lie-ins to trawl farmers’ markets.
I decided to ask John Tiller, who has been running the Edinburgh Slow Food convivium since it began in October 2001, for a few tips on going slow, when you live in the fast lane.
“The key concept behind Slow Food is ‘conviviality’,” he says. “By this we mean rediscovering the simple pleasure of sharing a dining table with friends and family. So many families don’t eat together anymore, and Slow Food encourages people to take time out to enjoy food together and relax.”
So far, so appealing. I need no excuse to eat, drink and be merry with my friends. But I got the feeling there was more to it than that. Recognising that eating is a pleasurable activity to be savoured, and not just a pit-stop refuelling to get over with as quickly as possible, is crucially important but difficult for many time-poor families to accept. If your hectic schedule doesn’t allow for leisurely dinners every night, Reid recommends starting out with one slow meal a week.
“Even if that’s all you can squeeze in, it will be a relaxing treat,” he says. But don’t pressurise yourself into feeling you need prepare a three-course Tuscan feast, which takes all day to make: “It may be something as simple as a cheese sandwich made with organic bread and a good Dunsyre blue, but slowing down and eating well always lifts you and makes you feel better,” Reid says.
I am reassured to learn that Slow Food isn’t all about authentic Italian sugos simmered to perfection over six hours. In fact, the term slow food might itself be described as something of a misnomer, as slow food can be lightning quick to prepare and eat if need be - after all, what food could be faster than a lunch comprising a selection of cheeses, meats, olives and fresh fruits, accompanied by fresh bread and some olive oil to dip? The important part is taking time out to pick the right ingredients.
“Supermarkets are definitely convenient,” Reid says. “But we shouldn’t need to buy everything from there.”
He recommends stopping off at the local butcher for example, rather than picking up an off-the-shelf cut of meat. It may mean paying slightly over the odds, but the quality will be much higher.
“If the flavour is vastly improved, surely that means better value for money? And, by encouraging local business, you’re supporting the local economy too.”
Andrew Firth, a Slow Food member and co-director of Herbie of Edinburgh delicatessens, couldn’t agree more. His Stockbridge shop is a honey-pot where foodies stock up on quality staples like cheese and meats, as well as rare delicacies like white truffles and quince paste.
For Firth, slow food means produce as close as possible to the real thing, which means avoiding unnecessary additives or overly processed goods. The sugar-free Italian jams he stocks may not last as long as supermarket brands but, to him, it’s a healthy sign that the product is natural and free of chemical preservatives.
For anyone still thinking it all sounds a bit like a hippie Good Life approach to modern living, Reid stresses that slow food allows for sinful pleasures too, and points out one in particular which exemplifies the merits of time over instantaneous results.
“You could drink whisky straight out the barrel and it would taste rotten,” says Reid. “Or you could be patient and wait 12 years. Then you get something magnificent. That’s what Slow Food is all about.”
For more information, visit www.slowfood.com