The Goods Shed, Canterbury

Fresh, local produce? It doesn't get any better than the Goods Shed, a superlative farmers' market caff in Canterbury. Richard Johnson takes a day trip to remember

I once heard of a father who called his son Tom Dickon Harry. He wanted his boy to grow up with a sense of humour. I had visions of the son driving along in later life, and being pulled over by the police.

"Name?"

"Tom Dickon Harry."

"What?"

"No, really. Here's my driving licence."

"Oh. It really is your name. Extraordinary. By the way, what's that smell?"

"Oh, that's my father's body in the trunk."

Meet Blaise Vasseur. With a name like that he was never going to be a welder. A hairdresser, maybe. Or a chef. Which is what he ended up doing after he failed his Navy exams. No bad thing – able seaman Blaise Vasseur sounds like a member of The Village People. But he became dissatisfied because the produce wasn't fresh enough. So he helped set up the Canterbury Farmers' Market.

There are bigger farmers' markets. But this is the country's first permanent one. The 17 stalls stretch out, comfortably, across a restored Victorian rail shed of weathered red bricks. And there, tucked on one side, are a few mismatched pine tables. This is Vasseur's restaurant – with a view over the produce of Kent and a menu that truly makes the most of it.

At 11am, Vasseur picks over the produce and takes it back to his open-plan kitchen. It's a kitchen with no store room and no walk-in chiller. But then Vasseur doesn't have to carry over stock to the next day or buy in bulk. Which makes him the envy of any self-respecting chef anywhere. Plus, he saves on delivery costs. And he gets to change his menu twice a day. So the wipe-clean board makes sense.

The bread arrived warm. But then it had only been baked 40ft away. The baker could have thrown it to me. But it came on a bread board, and I'm no circus boy. The bread is one of the success stories of the farmers' market. Old people like to come and feel it. They're not used to new-fangled health and safety regulations. Hell, in the old days, they used to lick it to see if it was fresh.

My smoked trout omelette had only travelled 30ft. Which meant it arrived exactly as Vasseur (and nature) had intended. I cut open the pillow of egg, and the trout (from the Weald smokery) spilled out. There was nothing meagre about this filling. The home-cured wild boar ham with fresh peas was just as substantial. Evidently Vasseur leaves someone else to worry about his bottom line.

To describe smell is like explaining music in writing. But, just to let you know, I judged the smell of Vasseur's rib of beef for two (£27) as one of the world's top four smells – along with frying bacon, molten solder and new-laid tarmac. It was Dexter, a rare breed of miniature cattle popular in Mrs Beeton's day. It puts down a lot of fat, which gives better marbling. And that's what gives it such a rich flavour.

The hot roast chicken (£8) came with the finest roasted vegetables I've ever tasted. They were biodynamic. I've always been a bit dubious about an agriculture which seeks to create harmony between vegetable, soil, moon and planets. Not any more. I now reckon that it makes absolute sense to plant around the new moon, when the earth's gravitational rhythms are downwards. I think my carrots were Aquarius. And I've always got on well with Aquarians.

The plaice (£9.50) was simple. It came with big, green leaves of sorrel which were a little astringent, but a nice variation on lemon. Vasseur had trouble finding a fishmonger for the market. Whitstable and Folkstone weren't interested (they've got too much business already), so he ended up offering the stall to a fishmonger from Tunbridge Wells who also happens to provide for The River Café and Orso.

We finished off with a truly adult pudding – roast Comice pears on brioche with plain chocolate sauce and coffee ice cream. I don't like coffee or plain chocolate. But "taste" is a complicated process. I don't like red or yellow, but I love orange. And the bitterness of the coffee melded with the chocolate to produce something I would like to try again.

In 1997 there were no farmers' markets in the UK; today there are more than 400. It's easy to see why. They bring us delicate produce straight from the farm – not the packing house. Which is why they deserve to succeed. A lot of London restaurants buy cavolo nero from Milan and Bologna. But it's also grown in Kent. It's just that they call it black cabbage. And it hasn't been on the back of a truck for four days.

Vasseur is already dry-curing hams. And maturing cheese. Now he just needs everyone to appreciate what he's doing. There are still too many old people sampling the tiny complimentary squares of fudge, and buying brawn. When you've lived through the war, you're not frightened of a bit of pig's head. But others will come once word gets out. Blaise Vasseur is a name to remember. E

The Goods Shed, Canterbury Farmers' Market, Station Road West, Canterbury, Kent (01227 459153). Open Tue-Sat, lunch and dinner; Sun, lunch.