Written by Jasmin Jelley.
“Food combines the issues for our health, the issues for our environment and the issues for our economy. It connects all of these three things in a really powerful and impactful way.”
Lucy Jones is talking about food- not just what’s on our plates, but how it gets there, the quality of it, who gets to access it, who grows it and whether they’re paid enough to keep going. When I arrive at Lucy’s house, she’s in the garden. The garden is self-seeing, she explains, gesturing toward the tangles of kale, fresh herbs, and edible flowers that are all mingled together and grown in a way that supports and sustains itself. I can’t help but think her approach to growing in her own garden is a really perfect metaphor for the philosophy behind their work: local, natural, and- above all- common sense. The Cornish Food Box company brings ingredients, producers, farmers from Cornwall together all in one place, and in doing so contributes to a food system better equipped to sustain itself and thrive.
This idea- that food should be rooted in its place, and in the people who grow it- is what sparked The Cornish Food Box back in 2010. Lucy and her sister Tor, who grew up on a dairy farm near Helston, wanted to stay in Cornwall and build something meaningful: a means to strengthen Cornwall’s economy, ensure fairness for producers, and bring fresh, locally-sourced ingredients directly to people’s tables. “Tor was working with the farmers’ markets- Helston, Penzance, Sennen-so she was already connected to producers,” Lucy says. “And I’m a foodie. The initial idea was to deliver bread locally we thought, well, if we’re going to deliver bread, we might as well deliver butter. And bacon. And it kind of evolved from there.” They saw a gap in the market for something that provides a sustainable, accessible alternative to the supermarket or physical farmers market model. You can subscribe, or shop one-off, it has flexibility built in. “We wanted people to be able to access the best of Cornish food.”
With a focus on local sourcing, it brings together some of the finest products Cornwall has to offer, with a commitment to sustainability at its heart. “At first, we didn’t sell anything that wasn’t grown, reared, or produced in Cornwall,” Lucy explains. “The idea was to offer local food for local people. As we grew, we started supplementing with seasonal, organic produce from places like Riverford and South Devon to meet demand.” It has grown to be “Cornish food for everyone.” This shift- from serving the local community to offering Cornwall’s bounty to the rest of the UK- fits right into what Lucy believes the future of food should look like. “No one is doing what we’re doing in this region,” she says, leaning in with enthusiasm. “From a chicken from Keith Wickett, pork chops from Primrose Herd, a loaf of bread from Vicky’s, to milk from Rodda’s- you can get it from us all in one place.” They have everyone under one roof (and Tor and Lucy know most of them personally, which is pretty special). Whether you’re in Falmouth looking for a weekly vegetable delivery, supplemented with line-caught butterfly mackerel, or in Edinburgh craving a Cornish hog’s pudding, or wanting herbs grown by the Kelynack-based Kehelland Trust (who, by the way, are growing all the herbs for the chef demos at Porthleven Food Festival this year), they’ve got it covered. “We work with small farmers and producers who are doing things the right way,” Lucy says. “You could order from all these producers directly,” she admits, “but combining everyone together felt stronger. More complete. Like a proper old fashioned marketplace.”
Supermarkets, Lucy says, have a stranglehold on what we buy, and how producers are paid, taking up a huge 97% of the market. They’ve created unrealistic expectations around aesthetics -rejecting veg for minor imperfections – and built a culture where low prices matter more than high quality. “It’s not a system that works for the consumer, or the farmer.” Lucy’s concern isn’t just about food miles or fairness, but about what’s in the food we’re reaching for because it’s convenient. “In the last five years, I’ve really woken up to what’s going on- what we’re being fed, how it’s making us sick.” Ultra-processed foods, she says, are at the heart of a public health crisis. In the UK, food-related illness costs £268 billion a year. It disproportionately affects lower-income families, and has created a culture where convenience comes at the expense of nutrition. “You are literally made of what you eat,” Lucy says. “Natural, real foods are the ones that are best for us. But they’ve been priced out of reach for so many.”
Cornwall has some of the most exceptional produce in the world – particularly in its fishing industry. “We catch something like 50 species here, but we only eat five,” Lucy says. “80% of our fish is exported to Europe. Then we go on holiday to the Med, get excited about a beautiful seafood platter, and it’s probably Cornish fish.” Meanwhile, the fish we import is often caught with little regard for sustainability.
But Lucy sees hope- and agency- in small, everyday decisions. “Where you can make a change is at the grassroots,” she says. “Each individual has the power to choose where they spend their money.” Shifting even a fraction of your weekly shop to local food, she says, can have a huge ripple effect; for health, for producers, and for food security. “One in four jobs in Cornwall depends on food and drink. If every household spent £10 a week on Cornish produce, we’d raise £130 million for the local economy.” At the heart of it all is a kind of radical simplicity: food that’s been through fewer hands, where you can trace the source, trust the process, and know who you’re supporting. “It’s not about being perfect,” Lucy says. “But every small change makes a difference. Spend a little more locally. Eat food that’s been grown nearby. Help build a system that can sustain itself.”
The Cornish Food Box is proof that convenience and ethics, quality and community, don’t have to be at odds. And in a world where our food system feels increasingly opaque, Lucy’s approach is refreshingly clear: local food, grown well, does good. For our bodies, for our communities, and for the land it comes from.