Our days of joyful lunacy with the hippy capitalist Nicholas Saunders | London

It brought me great pleasure to read the feature about Nicholas Saunders (Hippy, capitalist, guru, grocer: the forgotten genius who changed British food, 23 January). I encountered this remarkable man during my student vacation in 1976 when he employed me and a couple of young friends to convert this amazing derelict banana warehouse into the wholefoods shop. It was an incredible experience (I remember an armour manufacturer next door).

Nick was such a visionary – he must have been one of the first people to see the potential of the old Covent Garden, and to commit to the rejuvenation of the recently vacated fruit and veg market. Visiting Neal’s Yard now fills me with great pride and also with great memories of that summer and of working for Nick.
Nick Murphy
East Bridgford, Nottinghamshire

Jonathan Nunn’s piece on the anarchic but principled hippy capitalist Nicholas Saunders brought back the joyful lunacy of the late 60s and early 70s, when I helped to research the fourth edition of Alternative London and its successor, Alternative England & Wales. The downsides were incidental. The ducks that dived under the window separating house from garden at his World’s End home naturally shat all over the cushions on which we reclined inside his papier-mache cave.
Jennifer Potter
London

Before Saunders produced Alternative London, I had a small, tatty, booklet called Project Free London, which gave you all the stuff you needed to know to live cheaply in the city – from which restaurants and shops disposed of unwanted but still fresh food late at night, to how to travel free on the underground. It also had useful information such as the home telephone numbers of cabinet ministers and other notables.

I don’t know who produced or originally printed it, but I do know how it was distributed, as it said on the cover: “Do not buy this book, if somebody charges you for it they are ripping you off”, or words to that effect. I was given mine by a friend.
Graham Mullan
Bristol

One of the pleasures of using Neal’s Yard Desktop Publishing Studio in the 1980s was the regular arrival of groups of businessmen (normally in threes, for some reason). Their attempt to pitch a business proposal to Saunders would be met with a cold stare and a curt: “We don’t play the business game.” As to his role in the food revolution, the last time I saw him was in the Strand, where he was wolfing down a KFC…
Bevan Jones
London

Another factor for change in British food was the bakery strikes of the 70s, which completely transformed the nation’s bread. The market had been dominated by two large companies and all that was normally available was white cotton-wool-like bread – and a few Hovis loaves for a niche market. During the strikes people had to start baking their own and discovered what bread should taste like. Who could then have imagined that one day people would be buying bread-making machines?
Deirdre Sutton
Evesham, Worcestershire

Your article says that Saunders “even went to the island of Paros to grill farmers”. I hope that before doing so he marinated them overnight in Greek yoghurt.
Peter Dewar
Bromley, London