Grainger Market

A photograph and a few words...

It was a glorious vista – irradiated by gaslight. The whole market was decorated with flags. In the centre were two massive and elegantly-shaped stone fountains, the basin of each of which was capable of containing 3,000 gallons.

Thomas Dibdin, writing of the opening of Grainger Market on October 22 1835

I like markets - not the bric-a-brac style, but the large covered markets one sees across many countries (although less so these days in the UK) selling fresh produce of every variety as well as clothing, flowers, plants, etc. Browsing such a market gives you an insight into an area's habits, culture, and people.

I have a happy memory of my 60th birthday treat from my wife, Sarah, of a food tour in the Testaccio area of Rome. Our guide was a local chef, and at one point, the three of us went into the market there. It's on the site once used in Roman times for storing imported goods. The Romans built warehouses to store several types of food and used amphorae to transport oil and wine etc. The evidence of those amphorae still exists today, with broken Roman pottery piled high and now called Monte Testaccio. You can even eat in a beautiful restaurant, 'Flavio al Velavevodetto', carved into the mound of shards. I recall their simple 'tonnarelli cacio e pepe' as an absolute pleasure.

But back to the market, one of the delights was a sandwich from a salumeria, eaten while perched on plastic chairs and with a barrel as a table. I write, a sandwich, yet it was the most flavoursome I could recall eating. Slow, slow-cooked melt-in-the-mouth beef in a garlic and herb sauce served in the freshest bread dipped into that sauce, washed down with a glass of wonderful Primitivo. It may not have been 'Fine Dining', but it certainly was fine dining.

Nearer to my home, I have Newcastle’s Grainger Market. An indoor market within a Grade 1 listed building that, in its way, is just as marvellous as any of the mercatos, mercados or marché I've visited. Grainger Market's architecture may not be as grand as, say, Leadenhall Market in London, but it is much older, dating from 1835, and much larger, with some two hundred small businesses. In fact, Grainger Market is one of the oldest and largest permanent markets in the UK. 

Just as I enjoy browsing a market while overseas, Grainger Market has become a popular tourist attraction for those visiting the northeast. The market has a vibrant and colourful atmosphere, with the aromas from various foodstuffs filling the air. Independent traders sell meat, fish, cheese, bread, beer, wine, cakes, flowers, clothes and much more. There are also several cafes and restaurants in the market, serving a variety of cuisines from street food, through Chinese and Greek, to traditional northeast delicacies. A stottie cake sandwich takes some beating and comes close to what I enjoyed in the Testaccio Market. 

It's not all independent traders, as shown in the photograph, which shows the world's smallest branch of Marks and Spencer. Notice the original signage offering free admission and, as M&S initially branded itself, as a penny bazaar. Things there cost a little more than a penny these days.

Although some have changed hands, many stalls are familiar to me from my earliest visits as a youngster with my parents nigh on 60 years ago. However, one stall I recall from my youth that has disappeared is the tripe stall. My parents were great tripe eaters, and so was I as a youngster. I don't recall at what age I turned away from it. I did try Tripe again in Porto some years ago (well, the nickname for the people there is the ‘Tripe-eaters’), but I'm afraid I didn't have the stomach for it (sorry!). As a youngster, I was fascinated by just how wide a variety of tripes there seemed to be. Different shapes - honeycombs to flat, and colours - white through to greyish green. I now turn that colour at the thought of eating tripe.

What you can still buy from the various butchers in Grainger Market today is such things as pig's heads and trotters (a favourite of my father's). As to pig's heads, I can recall my mother often boiling half one of those to make 'pigs cheek'. After cooking, removing, and discarding the skin comes stripping the meat from the bone. The meat is then chopped into small pieces, seasoned, and allowed to 'set' in the gelatine that results from boiling. The finished dish is then sliced and eaten with salad or used for sandwiches. I loved the latter and would quite happily eat them again today.

The Market is also one of the few places I can find a favourite fish of mine, Whiting. A small fish that is plentiful in numbers, especially around the English northeast coast. Whiting is part of the cod family; traditionally, it's been a cheap fish. Still, as the price of cod, haddock etc. has risen, people now see Whiting as an economical alternative. When fresh, its taste is sensational, and I like its light, firm, lean meat with its sweet, delicate flavour. I usually pan-fry it in a dusting of flour. But many use it in making fishcakes or fish fingers. The French make mousseline (a sort of fish pâté) from Whiting or mix it with other white fish in pies and soups.

Another foodstuff I have discovered from the market that takes me back decades is bacon sheets, which my parents called ‘bacon bones’. They are the ribs that remain after the removal of bacon. Identical to a rack of spareribs except with cured meat. My mother used them as the basis for a stock or a broth, and a childhood food treat was for me to eat the remnants of the boiled bacon from the bones. Some children like to lick the last remnants of a cake or icing mix - but I’ve always had a savoury tooth! I now buy bacon bones at the market and use a slow cooker for the same purpose as my mother, and yes, I still treat myself to the cooked meat from the bones.

Even when I am not there to buy produce, I much enjoy playing the Flâneur and losing myself while strolling the many busy alleys while browsing the stalls of Grainger market. If you happen to visit Newcastle-upon-Tyne and enjoy markets, then Grainger Market is a must.