Walk, taste and talk your way through Adelaide and Barossa’s welcoming food markets. Photo / South Australia
For a taste of the real South Australia, head to its bustling market stalls, writes Roman Travers
New Zealanders love Australia like they love a good pair of familiar, comfortable shoes.
South Australia feels familiar, warm and welcoming, and it’s also easy to access. Just like those well-worn, much-loved shoes you always grab, well aware of better and more extravagant-looking options. The prospect of a long-haul flight and a well-planned international trip is sometimes completely overwhelming and far from enjoyable. That’s another reason why many of us gravitate towards our good old cobbers across the ditch; South Australia is less than four hours from home. It’s like a long bus trip with catering.
I’ve just arrived in Adelaide, a city I’ve only been to for the eye-wateringly boring conferences in my previous job – and speaking of shoes, make sure you visit with a pair of sensible ones. She’s a city you’ll want to enjoy on your tootsies – or in combination with Adelaide’s free tram service within the city. It’s clean, vibrant and busy, but not rammed to the eyeballs with aggravated pedestrians and drivers to match. If you love that juxtaposition between city shopping, cafes, classic old pubs and then the greenery of well-groomed gardens and parks, Adelaide is for you.
“Where are you off to, sir?” asks Jean-Baptiste, the tremendous concierge on the door of Adelaide’s Marriott Hotel. Until 2024, the Marriott was Adelaide’s General Post Office, which opened in 1872, and the refurbishment is tasteful and respectful of its original grandeur.
“I’m off to the Adelaide Central Market, thanks, Jean-Baptiste.”
The hand he directs me with almost hits the market’s front door. It’s a short stroll whether you’re in your sensible shoes or your night-clubbing stilettos. These are markets you want to arrive at hungry. There’s everything from artisan bread and freshly made sandwiches to fresh fish, meats and smallgoods, gins and gelato and fabulous coffee. The artwork on the walls works well with the concept of a city keen to both honour history and be vibrant and engaging.
The Adelaide Central Market will satiate you for the day, and you’ll undoubtedly leave with a few treats for the evening or gifts for those at home. There are guides here too. They take great pride in introducing you to stallholders, explaining the fascinating history and just how integral this market is for locals, tourists and those planning menus for Adelaide’s gorgeous cafes and restaurants.
The next market I’m heading to takes me from the centre of Adelaide, 70km northeast, to the Barossa Farmers Market. I’m told to look out for Scott Wood, the manager, but as I walk past the local musicians near the entrance and meander into the huge, covered winery shed, I realise finding Scott could be tricky. I see a bloke chatting away to the local Barossa police officer and before I can ask, Scott has introduced himself and his police officer daughter.
“What’s the biggest crime you see in the Barossa region?” I ask, as Scott heads to the cafe stand for a round of long blacks with a dash of cream. “Drink driving is what we see most,” she tells me. Probably no different to any wine-growing region of the world.
Scott’s back now with great coffee and Sheralee Menz, a beaming, engaging local with a passion for fruit and a stall for Trevallie Orchard. It’s a family-owned and operated orchard steeped in history just down the road in Angaston.
Trevallie is the only remaining commercial orchard in the Barossa, which was originally famous for growing fruit, not just grapes. The demonstrable switch from orcharding to viticulture came in 1989. Sheralee talks like she’s telling her story for the first time, richly decorated with aspects of her award-winning, handpicked, fresh and dried fruit. Each week, the family bring an abundance of crisp apples, juicy pears and other seasonal fruit like apricots and peaches.
Sheralee dashes away like someone who’s had one too many apricots, but she’s back just as fast with a copy of Rolling Up Their Sleeves, a local cookbook that goes way back to a time when women didn’t just bake or cook but made the ingredients from scratch.
It’s really an extension to The Barossa Cookery Book of 1917, one of Australia’s first community cookbooks. Since then, there’ve been 35 editions – very similar to our Edmonds Cookbook.
As one of a duo known as “Those Barossa Girls”, Sheralee plays an integral role in keeping the recipes and the stories of the Barossa alive and kicking. If you love cookbooks as I do, you’ll love how “Those Barossa Girls” embarked upon a journey to map out, learn more and interview surviving family members and translate the very sparse original recipes of The Barossa Cookbook into Rolling Up Their Sleeves. When you’re here, look for the Trevallie Orchard stand, Sheralee and her fabulous cookbooks.
Beyond the rich colonial history that the stallholders are happy to share with you, there’s also genuine respect for the Ngadjuri people, the traditional owners of the land the market is on.
There’s also the innovation they’re really proud of: their Kitchen Library – possibly the first in a farmers market. The idea is simple. Many of us buy kitchen appliances we don’t use that often, sometimes only seasonally. The Kitchen Library collects unwanted fruit dehydrators, pasta-making machines, pressure cookers, tomato crushers, and other essential machines and has them available to members of the Barossa community.
“We really should have lawnmowers in there too,” Scott says. I can see why. There aren’t many lawns to mow, with South Australia now bereft of substantial rain since November last year.
I’m off to do several laps of the indoor Barossa Farmers Market, stopping to chat to locals with butchery stands, olive oils, dumplings, macaroons, bagels and all those good things you get when you come to a genuine farmers market. I’m given a delicious bag of dried apricots at another locally grown fruit stall. I’m so grateful, but I know I won’t eat them before heading home (I later declare them with trepidation at NZ Customs and am surprised to be waved through without issue).
I’m at the huge wine shed doors, about to depart, scanning the crowd for Scott Wood and looking for a handy bin for my coffee cup, when he approaches.
“Thank you – I’ve loved it” I tell him with a synchronised handshake. “A pleasure, Roman, and I’m very happy to offer free coffees to anyone who comes to the market with a ‘Roman sent me’ message. You could make that your new hashtag,” he adds through his Barossa smile.
The Barossa Farmers Market is only 50 minutes from the Adelaide Central Market, and it’s where you get to talk with the people who grow and make what they sell. The pride these producers have for what they do and where they live is profound. One of the old girls of Barossa, Margaret Lehmann, was known to say, “Who’s had their hands on your food?” That’s an easy question to answer here. There are no middlemen at the Barossa Farmers Market. She’s fair dinkum, the real Barossa deal.
Walkers face a 20km trek between Mangatepopo and Waihohonu huts.