by Sally Hammond

"Come on, try our pig sandwich!" The guy with spiky blond hair spruiking his wares looks a bit familiar, but it takes me a moment until I realise where exactly I know him from. Yes, of course! Antony Worrall Thompson of cookbook and TV fame, and in this particular case, Notting Grill. This snappy London restaurant is one of six top restaurants in his portfolio but normally he doesn't need to sell himself or his venue.

Taste of London is a little different, however. For four flat-out days, over forty restaurants set up temporary kitchens staffed with their own chefs in tents and marquees in Regents Park, just to the north of London's CBD. With typical British optimism it's all outdoors. One year they told me it rained buckets but on the day I visit it's maybe the hottest day this year, bright and glowing.

I take a 'pig sandwich', handing over my coupons totalling six crowns (£3 sterling or around A$6, now that our dollar is behaving well). Actually my sanga's full title is 'roast middle white pig sandwich, sage and onion stuffing with apple chilli dressing' and it's good. Very good. I eat it sitting on a plastic chair nearby at a table where two earlier pig-munchers are seated.

"Enjoying it?" I ask. "Taste of London, I mean?" They nod emphatically, their mouths too full of Chef AWT's good food to even smile.

I have been eating my way slowly around the forty restaurants represented here at London's premier annual food event. Fortunately they are spread out so feel I can argue that this little amount of exercise entitles me to try more things. Well, that's my rationale, anyway.

At Le Gavroche (stand no R21) I try some of Michel Roux Junior's smoked chicken and foie gras terrine with lentils and truffle vinaigrette. At eight crowns it's not cheap, and the serving is diminutively elegant, but then I remind myself that the man himself, son of the legendary Michel Roux senior, is here on hand to say hello and show us backstage the restaurant standard attention his chefs are showing this food in their makeshift kitchen.

Not everyone gets this peep behind the scenes, of course, but I am part of a media contingent of 25 journalists from around the world who have been invited to attend Taste of London by British Airways (a major sponsor) and also learn more about the airline's Culinary Council. This august group of top chefs from around the world provides BA with a wealth of experience which plays a crucial part in improving cuisine on board the aircraft. Michel Roux senior, of the prestigious Waterside Inn, is one of eight chefs on the council which also includes Liam Tomlin, formerly of Banc restaurant in Sydney, now based in Cape Town where he is a consultant.

With a rush of antipodean patriotism I feel I also have to try something from nahm, the Thai restaurant which took London by storm some years ago when David Thompson, who had established the iconic Darley Street Thai in Sydney, decided to move to the UK. On this day he is not present for me to say "g'day!" to. No doubt he is tending his woks in Belgravia. But even without his personal touch my dish of miang - pomelo dressed with caramel and roasted coconut and served on a betel leaf - brings back happy memories of Darley Street, and crispy fish with three flavoured sauce (despite its rather unfortunate name of pla tort nahm sahm rot) explains to me why his food has created such a stir in the capital, and earned him the only Michelin star for a Thai restaurant in Europe.

Many crowns later, it is time to call a halt to all this eating and drinking and take in some of the other exhibits, which by their very nature also involve more eating and drinking. Free samples, this time. Oh well, a food writer has a responsibility, you know, especially when she has come so far.

I try fresh ice cream from Cream o' Galloway, blushing as I am corrected gently when I mistake it for Irish. "No, dear, it's the Borders area of Scotland. Galway is in Ireland."

Nearby, I fall on some Fairtrade organic Percol coffee from Africa - a treat, as by now I am needing a boost, and strangely there doesn't seem to be as much coffee as I would have liked on show.

Wine too, is lighter on the ground than any equivalent Australian event, but there are other drinks - spirits, waters, cocktails, and (this is, after all, London) lots of beers. And teas of course.

I discover a McGuigan Wines stand though, and chat for a while to the homesick people behind the bar. Penfolds is on hand too, down towards the Taste Theatre, and I take the opportunity to slip in and watch an ebullient host and a laid-back chef whip up something I can't quite identify from the back of the seating.

Oh, well, off for more discoveries: cider from Ireland, Peroni, an Italian aperitivo, champagnes (Laurent-Perrier is a sponsor), Tanqueray gin, Jamaican rum, Fiji water.

Hmmm, time for some food to mop that little lot up, I reckon, so I loiter past a pungent leg of Spanish jamon ib'rico spiked on a stand ready for action, and allow the portly secor to carve me off a rosy translucent wafer (or three) while, nearby, a couple of cheerful butchers in navy striped aprons peddle 'best of British' sausages.

A show like this really drives home a sense of proximity of the UK to so much of the rest of the world. In an hour or so I have a gastronomic tour of Spain, India Turkey, China, all of the UK, and much more. I sample tracklements (condiments to me), Welsh spring water, strawberries done up in chocolate waistcoats and icing bow ties, tooth-achingly sweet fudge, and cheese from the Isle of Man.

There's a carnival air to it all with the booths and bunting, music and strolling crowds out for a good time in the sunshine. A cross between a picnic in the park and a country fair. Like Midsomer, I decide - with plenty of tastings, but no murders.

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Taste of London in late-June appears mid-way in the annual roll-out of 'Tastes' for the UK. Taste of Edinburgh kicks off at the end of May, followed by Leeds in early June. Taste of Bath follows London in early July, then Birmingham, in mid-July.