To call Central London's Borough Market as a wholesale and retail food market is limiting it. It's more like a foodie's paradise, a food-theme street, a treat ot the senses...

There is a saying in Bengal —A true Bengali plans her next meal while still eating the current one.

I am known to plan my Sunday dinner between mouthfuls of lunch, running to get a box of Salmon fillets out of the fridge for my next meal, while my warm dal-chawal patiently awaits my attention.

I am a foodie.

Specifically home-made spaghetti and meatballs with fresh basil (Nigella style) and Peking Duck from Oberoi Charcuterie in Delhi.

When we moved to London, it was an extension of our love affair with food. From China Tang at The Dorchester, frequented by Simon Cowell to River Cafe (Jamie Oliver and Hugh Fearnley- Whittingstall trained there!), to the Notting Hill street market, there is little we haven’t sampled food-wise.

But Borough Market occupies a special place in our hearts.

Next to London Bridge station, and the almost alien-like Shard (a glass monolith and the tallest building in Western Europe), Borough Market sits placidly under the railway viaducts throbbing with activity from early morning until early evenings.

Since 1755, the market has been a hive of activity for purveyors of fresh vegetables, fruit, meats and fish. And not just locally grown stuff, you will find a fair share of exotics and the breath-taking.

Name of the game here is to pace yourself.

Don’t fall headlong into the first paella (Spanish rice dish) that you see as soon as you enter the market — share it with someone. The range of food is so overwhelming, chances are you will kick yourself for stuffing yourself full within the first fifteen minutes of arriving at a market that has been thriving since the 13th century.

We found kangaroo meat burgers as well as fresh quail eggs. There were steaming hot pans of paella with spicy chorizo sausages, fresh peas, mussels and prawns, next to Vietnamese curries and slow-cooked vegetables.

We bought small packets of Orange Pekoe (second flush Darjeeling Tea) from a stall owner and the tea was still in the wooden boxes with the shipping stamps, all while sipping on green leaf tea.

There was a lady selling homemade chutneys — the elderflower one was exceptional — jams and preserves, urging all passing by to stop and have a taste. She knew you would feel compelled to part with the pounds for those little mouthfuls of taste explosions.

Ginger Pig is a well-known butcher’s and the Yorkshire-based farm has a shop in the market that you wouldn’t need directions to. Just follow the snaking queues of hungry shoppers, regulars and tourists taking their pick from a range of sausage rolls, terrines, pies and scotch eggs. And if you are after a certain cut of meat, they will oblige — so much so that you can even buy a gift voucher for the discerning steak lover!

Sadly, I am not a steak lover but I do love a mean roast pork sandwich. This is no ordinary sandwich, mind! Free-range pigs that are slow roasted on the spit, you have to eat it to believe how beautifully flavoured the melt-in-the-mouth meat is.

Not just savouries, you get to nibble on more-ish desserts too, before you buy. A bit of baklava, a crumb of the triple chocolate brownie, or the gluten-free cupcakes? Testing, or should we say tasting, of wares was never so pleasurable.

I bought a full tart and each slab of cheesecake was at least as big as my palm, enough to sate even the most die-hard foodie amongst us.

And what would a food market be without a decent tipple? During winters, there are kegs of hot mulled wine with bits of cinnamon, oranges, nutmeg and all spice, while in spring and summer, you can get massive glasses of Pimms garnished with mint, strawberries, cucumbers and gallons of ice.

There is micro-brewery under the railway arches and the craft beers can do serious damage to your schedule for the day while cups of locally-made cider and cordials will make you reach for your wallet for more.

Back to the range of food then — every region of the world is incredibly well served and it is never more obvious than while perusing the food stalls. I gave in at the stall selling mushrooms — there was one for everyone, including ones that looked like tiny trees, ones that needed a quick bit of flash frying as well as ones that needed to be steeped for 12 hours before cooking.

I came away with brown paper bags bursting with fresh artichokes, mushrooms, organic cooking chocolate and desserts, as well as packets of loose leaf teas and artisan breads, slightly giddy from the glasses of cider and a belly bursting from a taste journey that I will remember for a very long time.