Big Bro and I staggered out of the Real Food Festival two and half hours after we'd entered: laden, exhausted, ecstatic. We'd both been hoping for the best but wary of the worst - both veterans of country shows where the food tents are full of pretend 'good' 'food', but where the sellers are actually part of a conglomerate who shift their operations from county to county. Not good food, not local and not edible. Well, the RFF was brilliant. We spotted a couple of imposters but Earl's Court was overwhelmingly populated by small producers who were passionate about their goods, impressively well informed and very, very friendly. We both spent more than we had planned, met some really lovely people and only left because my shopping bags had grown too heavy. We bought cheese and olive oil and salt and chirizo and turkish delight and coffee and perry - I'll write in detail tomorrow, but if you have a chance to go to this excellent festival: GO! Oh, and I got to meet both Petal the water buffalo and Tom Oliver, one of my food heros and maker of the best perry I know.