We ran supermarket pastes through the ‘soup test’ to find out which ones have an authentic flavour and which are nothing like the real thing

• The best supermarket kimchi

Miso is a simple product that’s traditionally made by fermenting pulses (usually soya beans) with salt and koji, typically a grain (rice or barley, and more recently oats, say) inoculated with Aspergillus oryzae mould. Bar one fabulous exception, however, our supermarkets seem to have flipped the “you get what you pay for” adage on its head when it comes to miso: the least authentic and most processed products in this test were also some of the most expensive, even though they’re little more than synthetic imitations cut with thickeners, colourants, acidulants and preservatives.

I asked my friend Jono Hope from Slow Sauce, a miso and shoyu brewery in Scotland, for advice, and he told me not to taste it straight from the jar; its intense, salty flavour would ruin my palate. Instead, he advised mixing a teaspoon with warm water, then drinking it – “the soup test”.

A thrifty and delicious crumble-like autumnal treat, a bit like a cobbler … or a buckle … or a grunt …

We have a family tradition of making our daughter a fruit pie of some sort for her first day of school each September. Last year, it was a simple apple pie, but we intend to make our way through the myriad heritage desserts, from crumbles and crisps to cobblers, buckles, pandowdys, grunts, slumps and sonkers. This year, we made a brown betty, a wonderful, crumble-like dessert made with stale bread. We kept things seasonal with apples and blackberries from the garden, but any combination of fruit works really. I sweetened this one with maple syrup, but use your sweetener of choice: each adds its own unique flavour.

Our wholegrain hero sorts the wheat from the chaff in the search for a simple pleasure: a satisfying sandwich loaf

• The best supermarket sourdough

I’ve broken my strict, like-for-like approach this week in the interests of just finding a really good sliced wholemeal sandwich loaf. Alas, most of these are made to the standard Chorleywood process, with each one a cardboard replica of the other and with only nuanced differences. However, I did find two with exceptional flavour and one with a notably good, firm texture that’s ideal for spreading stuff on; to my surprise, several have an impressive lack of additives, too, and they all score well on value.

The Chorleywood process is an industrial method for making bread in just three and a half hours using high-speed mechanical processes and chemical additives. It was developed in the 1960s, and now accounts for about 80% of the bread made in the UK. If you’re looking for palm oil-free loaves with zero additives, emulsifiers or preservatives, sandwich loaves are hard to navigate, but there are some that fit the bill – just check the label.

A creative way to use up the bits you already have around, all while getting in a healthy mixture of vegetables and whole grains

This hearty dish is inspired by the diets of the Blue Zones, or those regions of the world where people live the longest, including Sardinia, where minestrone is a staple. Dan Buettner, who studied these communities, found that their diets are generally rich in beans, whole grains and seasonal vegetables. I’ve generalised ingredients into groups such as alliums, rather than simply suggesting the standard onion base, to inspire you to use up whatever you have in the house and what’s in season; I’d of course also encourage further diversification with the addition of other vegetables and subtle spices.

Which salty condiment nails that deep flavour profile, and which is saltier than the sea? Our resident taster tries 10 soy sauces straight from the bottle

• The best supermarket kimchi

Soy sauce was created in China about 2,200 years ago, as a means to preserve food and to zhoosh up the humble vegetarian Buddhist diet. It’s a demonstration in kokumi – literally “rich taste” – a flavour sensation that’s often called the sixth taste.

I tested all of today’s soy sauces straight from the bottle, in all their intensity. I first identified distinctive aromas such as cooked potato, sulphur and broth (all typical in soy sauce and not as off-putting as they sound), alongside caramel and malty notes. The best ones are more nuanced, with fruity high notes and vinous tones.