Food and farming in 2026: Change is afoot
The latest intel on food, farming & food culture in Somerset (and beyond)
Many thanks to the new paid subscribers, and those continuing. Writing a niche food publication for a particular audience within a relatively small area may in normal terms be seen as against better advice (there’s a reason so many others have given up), so every paid sub – currently 82 of you – says a lot to me in the interest of keeping this thing going.
As usual with these monthly round-ups: free subscribers get a brief lowdown, with paid subscribers party to developing trends, opinion, and the odd scuttlebutt.
What did we learn in 2025? Tradition for tradition’s sake be damned, but I’m actually curious to reflect on the past 12 months of the WFJ. I, for one, learned of the terror and abuse that can occur in the kitchen of a local, and supposedly ethical, restaurant; how snails became Somersetians’ dish du jour because of their attraction to the limestone of the Mendips; why Rye Bakery makes about 82p profit on a £10 bacon sandwich; that some of the country’s best and most environmentally-responsible ice cream is being made in Evercreech; of the campaign to reintroduce eels (formerly an important local food source) to Somerset rivers; that the closer to the source of a food you eat, the more likely it’s retained its nutritional properties; of the difference between a young farmer and a Young Farmer; of the Somerset dairy that wants us (tasting notes within) to drink horse milk; why industrial livestock farming is exporting wildlife destruction 5,000 miles away; how even with food costs going up, independent shops can often beat supermarkets on price; that it can take 15 years for walnut trees to start fruiting, even well-suited as they are to Somerset soil; and that Somerset cheddar is hugely variable in taste and texture depending on who’s made it and how. If you needed a round up of what you might’ve missed over the last year, then there it is.
Plans for the Wallfish Journal in 2026? Things around here might look a little different on the eye, and, if all goes well, there’ll be a new contributor or two. But the haymaker-jab formula of a big, central story with digestible news and opinion seems to work ok for readers and my current schedule. Some stories I’m looking forward to covering this year include: Why a jar of local honey costs £8; how the Victorians and their railways changed Somerset dairy forever; how Frome livestock market was once the centre of the universe (sort of); how to use everything from a veg box (whatever the season); the corporate colonisation of your kitchen; and a pommelier’s guide to Somerset cider.
Just to add to the above, some Substack writers are increasing value to what they do by acting as a kind of hosting/mingling space for their community of readers. Does connecting with other people curious and involved in local food and drink interest you (there’s more than 1,000 of those signed up to the WFJ)? If so, what could that look like?
Below the paywall: how your dining out habits are changing; which common foods have been classed as potentially toxic; a MasterChef judge struggles in opening a Somerset restaurant; and more besides