I am intrigued that Ben Reade, the Edinburgh-born head of food development at the Nordic Food Lab in Copenhagen and colleague of Rene Redzepi at Noma (No.1 in the coveted World's 50 Best Restaurants awards), is returning to Scotland this summer.

Reade is a friend of the food activist Carlo Petrini, the founder of the Slow Food movement, and one of the first Scottish gigs he has secured is to address a meeting in Perthshire, at which the roots of a new group, Slow Food Scotland, will be laid down.

Petrini founded the Slow Food movement in 1989 because he wanted to give power back to the people - that is, artisan producers and consumers; he was alarmed that the global food industry was killing off culinary diversity because everybody was eating the same foods. His motives were anti-establishment and expressed in organised protest. The grassroots political background to the movement is worth remembering, because it's been losing its sense of purpose here in Scotland, where Slow Food faces the charge of being a fine-dining club for middle-class foodies who are already on-message. What happened to its aim of helping the man in the street gain access to local, sustainable, seasonal and affordable food? Reade will no doubt deliver a call to arms on that thorny issue.

Slow Food in Scotland, where active convivia (groups) are confined to just three, has seen some notable achievements, among them garnering 23 chef members and helping an increasing number of endangered foods, such as the Musselburgh leek and peasemeal from Sutherland, board the Ark of Taste. But meantime the Soil Association has upped its game by encouraging sustainably-sourced foods in schools and public places; the Fife Diet has made significant inroads pushing the local message; Scotland Food & Drink, formed to support the Scottish government's 2007 collaborative food policy, has spawned a generation of confident small producers; the Glasgow local food movement Locavore has established a large public market garden; and Nourish is investigating the affordability of sustainably grown food. Slow Food has a lot of catching up to do, and fast (if that's not a contradiction).

I understand that gaining permission to establish a separate body for Scotland -which will operate autonomously from, while still being supported by, Slow Food UK in London - did not come easy. After the idea for autonomy for Scotland was mooted a year ago there was a three-month haitus for both sides to cool off before it was agreed at the Slow Food UK AGM in March. Italy, where Slow Food is based, endorses the notion. Quite right too. After all, promoting geographical and culinary diversity is its raison d'etre. It's hoped the new body will start operating towards the end of this most significant of years.

So, finally, Slow Food Scotland gets the chance to become part of the bigger international picture. Organisers are cock-a-hoop at the opportunity to develop a proper grassroots organisation that better meets the country's needs, can support local convivia, and deliver campaigns and projects to directly tackle the issues we face (food poverty, food banks, obesity) while still being part of a strong UK and international movement. I'm told it will be led from the bottom up rather than dictated to by its newly-appointed board. One of the first priorities must be to attract new members, and to restart dormant convivia in other areas.

Reade's involvement at this stage is interesting. The aims of the NFL and Slow Food are similar in terms of their aim to preserve traditional and regional cuisine and encourages farming of plants, seeds and livestock characteristic of the local ecosystem. When we met last year, he said he reckoned Scotland, with a similar population size and climate to Denmark, could and should be doing similar work. He said applications of NFL's work are looking at our edible biogeography in a similarly analytical way, enabling the discovery and rediscovery of new and forgotten ingredients as well as a celebration of known ones. The NFL runs a database of wild edible plants in Denmark, and Reade says that 99% of them are also available in Scotland. With sufficient funding, that's another way Slow Food Scotland could add to the momentum north of the border, while also showcasing Scotland's rich traditional cuisine to 100,000 members in 150 countries worldwide.

Change does not happen overnight. But just remember the words of a French chef who came to work in Scotland eight years ago and found he could not source free-range chicken for love nor money. Now, he has at least five independent producers to choose from.

No doubt the lovely dinners among the Slow Food chatterati will continue; convivia are based on the concept of people eating together and sharing ideas. I just hope there will be some new faces around the table.