OPINION: Festival feasting at Glastonbury

Like a tidal wave of nostalgia, they glaze over with this misty eyed and moony expression as they wistfully ask me, “What sort of stand do you have? You must love working at the festival! I went last year and it was magical.” I quickly inform them (with equal parts irritation and sadistic glee) this romanticised, idealistic notion is, in fact, very incorrect. 

Yes, there is a festival of the same name, but before Glastonbury Festival, Glastonbury was and is a town. In fact, us locals refer to it as Pilton Festival because it isn’t even in Glastonbury.

Another misconception is that we are utterly heaving during the festival. Some 280,000 people suddenly coming to a town with a population of less than 9,000 is pretty substantial. It is actually quite the opposite. It becomes a ghost town. Aside from the inexplicable influx of Liverpudlians there is nothing but tumbleweed for at least five days.

How wrong I was

So what do we do? We close and all go to the festival.

This year was my first time as I’m not particularly good at spending any time away from the restaurant. But with Doc Martins, pillows and a backpack full of leopard print clothing, I set off into the field for five days of frivolity.

I shan’t bore you with all the details but I will tell you one thing I was so thoroughly impressed by… the food offering.

My goodness. I had imagined it to be a culinary wasteland, with burger vans and chalky bread buns abound. How wrong I was. Anyone who knows me will tell you with confidence my favourite thing to do after cooking, is eating – and, my gosh, I ate well. From intricately spiced Goan fish curry to Creole-blackened shrimp with habanero jam, and the most decadent, delicious and fortifying triple decker stilton toastie. Mexican Korean fusion? Heck yes! Bulgogi tacos is a dish I never knew I needed to try until I tried it. I didn’t expect to find such culinary inspiration in the middle of a field.

I have become that person

Now when people ask me if I’m going to do a stand, I can say with confidence that I will not. The operations were slick and tight, the stands bright and beautiful, the monumental effort that goes into them is immense.

The work that goes into every stand is evident and I take my glittery festival cowboy hat off to them. Not only did I have a full tummy, but a genuinely happy palate and a good amount of inspiration too.

I had an amazing chicken shawarma and had to ask the chefs where they get their tahini from. When I got home, I immediately tried to replicate the sweetest, crunchiest pickled chillies I have eaten in years. (I’m pretty sure a reduction of pineapple juice added to the brine is the secret.)

And, of course, food comes hand and hand with drinks. Last year, coffee outsold beer at Glastonbury, which is definitely reflective of market trends with more people opting for 0% and low ABV drinks in recent years. Coffee stands regularly had longer queues than some bars. I heard some people baulk at prices, which I would liken to zone 1 London prices but this didn’t stop me from finding some exceptional Margaritas.

So now when people ask me about Glastonbury, I have become that person. My eyes glaze over and I think back fondly to that stilton toastie and tell people, wholeheartedly, that it is magical.