Four South Africans food producers are doing things the natural, old-fashioned way, from cheese making to meat curing to flour milling...
Nico Steyn; Eureka Mills Stone Ground Flour
Great things often come from small beginnings, and that is certainly the case with Eureka Mills; South Africa’s smallest commercial flour mill. Set amidst the rolling wheat fields of the Overberg, Eureka was born in 1998 when two farmers decided to mill their own flour using traditional stone-grinding methods.
It’s this gentle grinding that helps to ensure the wheat remains as natural as possible, says Nico: “Unlike commercial roller mills, with a stone mill the temperature is much lower so the enzymes that help you to digest the glutens are still present. There are no shortcuts with our flour – it comes in from the field, gets milled and goes straight into the bag. We don’t bleach or fortify any of our flours.”
But what goes into the bag is only as good as what comes from the fields, and caring for the land is key to the philosophy behind Eureka.
“We’ll plant two years of wheat, one year of canola and then let the land rest for four to five years. This gives us healthy soil and healthy wheat, so we can use less pesticides and fertiliser,” explains Nico. “We also no longer use disc ploughs, so we don’t disrupt the soil structure. After it rains, you can still find earthworms in our fields! This kind of farming and milling is definitely more labour intensive, and you have to a passion for it.”
It’s a passion that quickly shines through at Eureka, where Nico and his team of millers are on a mission to reacquaint South Africans with the lost art of baking.
“For me it’s about informing people, to get people to think about the flour they use, and the bread they eat,” says Nico. “We’re so used to refined breads here, and nowadays you get bread that’s still fresh 10 or 12 days later… how natural can that be? I want South Africans to make a conscious decision about the bread they eat.”
Visit www.eurekamills.co.za or call 028 722 1887.
Jason Snell; The Drift Farm
Take a wander down the veggie aisle of any major supermarket and you’ll be astounded by the lack of variety: two or three types of tomatoes, one or two varieties of carrot, perhaps a single squash… hardly nature’s bounty?
And that’s what Jason Snell and the hard-working farmers at The Drift Farm are trying to change, introducing South Africans to the cornucopia of vegetables we’re missing out on.
“We grew 15 or 20 different varieties of tomatoes last year,” says Jason, a man whose passion for heirloom vegetables borders on the religious. “And it’s not just tomatoes: it’s turnips, kale, carrots! We grow incredible mixed-colour carrots! And candy-striped beetroot!”
Long popular in Europe and America, heirloom vegetables are an “open-pollinated, non-hybridised variety,” explains Jason, explaining that the diversity of heirlooms has largely been lost amidst the monoculture of industrial farming. “But if you look at nature, it works by using variety to combat disease. Heirlooms are actually stronger, because there’s variety in the species.”
Working with – not against – the environment is key to the success of The Drift, which rolls up against the Akkedisberg near Hermanus: “We try and farm as close to nature as possible, because what’s in your soil directly relates to what’s in the vegetables that you eat,” says Jason.
While The Drift’s veggies are available through a few specialist retailers and vegetable box schemes in Cape Town, the most rewarding point of sale is his stall at the weekly Neighbourgoods Market, says Jason: “We want to move to a more European way, where you get to know the farmer and build up some trust. At the market you’re buying veggies from the farm directly from me; it really is a case of farm to fork. It’s about education… I think we have lost touch with our vegetables, and we’re hoping to change that.”
Visit www.thedrift.co.za or call Jason on 072 532 3388
Wayne Rademeyer; Buffalo Ridge Mozzarella
Getting your hands on a buffalo isn’t as easy as you might think. That’s what Wayne Rademeyer discovered in 2006 when he decided to hang up his advocate’s robes and go into the buffalo business.
“I got fed up with the standard of so-called buffalo mozzarella in my caprese salads, and felt sure I could make it better myself,” laughs Wayne. “Luckily my legal background helped me navigate the minefield of rules for importing disease-free water buffalo from Australia.”
Today, his growing herd of Mediterranean Riverine Water Buffalo – related to, but more docile than the African Buffalo – provide more than enough milk for the fromage blanc, yoghurt and balls of stretchy mozzarella produced at his small cheesery outside Wellington in the Cape wine lands.
It’s a simple operation where almost everything is done by hand, and Wayne’s ethos of good milk leading to great cheese comes to life.
“Our buffaloes are entirely pasture fed; we don’t use any artificial fertilisers or pesticides, and we try to follow biodynamic principles as far as possible,” explains Wayne. “And because our animals are pasture-grazed the calcium content of the milk is a lot higher. They’re outside walking all day so they’re using energy and the milk volumes are lower, but the animals are healthier… and that gives us better milk.”
And, in turn, a better cheese: one that’s higher in protein and calcium, but lower in fat, than cheese from cow’s milk.
“There are just four ingredients in our mozzarella,” says Wayne. “Whole buffalo milk, to which we add rennet and culture. Then there’s some salt in the brine. And that’s it. It’s a completely natural product.”
Available at good delicatessens. Contact Wayne on
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Richard Bosman; Richard Bosman’s Quality Cured Meats
There’s a quiet intensity about Richard Bosman; a tireless enthusiasm for his craft that finds expression in his mouth-watering charcuterie. And, as with so many small producers, it’s passion and patience that make all the difference.
“We only use traditional charcuterie techniques,” explains Richard, as we stand surrounded by racks of drying salami, coppa, pancetta and prosciutto in his modern charcuterie near Cape Town. “The only time we add our own little flair is in tweaking the flavours of some of the products.”
And delicious tweaks they are; like his delectable cider salami made with handcrafted Elgin cider, or the air-dried pork neck cured with spices and red wine.
But the details are nothing without great raw ingredients, and Richard will only use pork from a single farm in the Hemel-en-Aarde valley where farmer Charlie Crowther rears pasture-grazed pigs that feast on wild grasses and acorns.
“Our philosophy is to use the best of what’s available around us, that’s of the right quality,” says Richard, who’ll happily hang a leg of prosciutto for an extra few months if it’ll cure it to perfection. “We do everything by hand, and it takes a long time. There are quicker, commercial ways of making this kind of product, but that’s not what we’re about.”
Visit www.richardbosman.co.za or call 083 277 3494
First published in Food&Home Entertaining, September 2011 |
It wasn’t long ago that sushi was something you’d only heard about. Well-travelled friends would return from Asia with tales of fish served raw – “Raw? Are you sure?” we’d ask – over a delicate mound of vinegar-tinged rice. Photos of seaweed wrapped around eel would inspire either desire or disgust, and we’d wonder how people could get so excited over uncooked fish. I mean, where’s the batter and chips?
Times have changed though, and nowadays you can buy a tray of sushi – of varying quality – anywhere from airport departure lounges to your local supermarket. The Eat Out restaurant guide lists over 200 sushi eateries countrywide, and I’m willing to bet there are 200 more out there somewhere.
I’m a big fan of sushi, but if it’s been a lean month in the salt mines of freelance writing it’s not always possible to blow a few hundred rand on a platter of nigiri and California rolls. The solution? Learn how to make it myself, which is how I ended up on the sharp end of a knife held by a man named Bubbles.
The ever-garrulous Bubbles – he just rubbed his rotund tummy when I asked him about his name – is the head sushi chef at Wasabi, in Cape Town’s Constantia Village. Popular with the Constantia horsey-set, Wasabi has been making top-notch Asian food for over a decade and their sushi is often rated as some of the best in town.
So it’s a good place to learn the ins and outs of maki, nigiri, salmon roses, California rolls and fashion sandwiches; the itinerary for our two-hour journey into the world of rice and raw.
The weekly courses take place up at the sushi counter, with a tub of prepared rice ready and waiting. Alongside; a slab of salmon, a few steamed prawns and a handful of crabsticks await their fate at the hands of novice sushi samurais.
After a (too brief) brief talk on how to make the rice properly we get stuck in to the easy maki rolls. Hands are dipped in water to keep the rice from sticking and we spread a layer over our individual nori (seaweed) sheets. ‘Inside out’ California rolls are a similar affair, and a saltshaker sends a shower of sesame seeds – nutty and toasted to shades of caramel and coffee – onto the sausages of white rice. Pretty.
A big plus is that we each have our own small workspace, so the emphasis is – literally – on getting your hands sticky as you get to grips with the fine art of rolling and slicing.
“When cutting through your roll, you never apply pressure. All that’s doing the cutting is the action of running the blade back and forth,” reminds Bubbles. “You also want to keep the blade moist at all times, otherwise the starch in the rice will stick to it and end up pulling the whole roll apart.”
Next up is nigiri, where the trick is in the one-handed shaping of a ball of rice into a fat slug to be topped with fish. They’re not my first choice on a sushi platter, but they are certainly attractive when the delicate fillet of fish is cut correctly.
“The best fish for this is salmon, but it needs to be sliced carefully. The soft shoulder of the fish is best for nigiri,” explains Bubbles. “And you always want to cut across the grain, so that you can really see the layers of white fat between the meat.”
Last on the menu is the always-impressive fashion sandwich, which turns out to be far easier than it looks. Layers of rice, mayonnaise and rich salmon make an impressive mouthful when cut into the dainty sandwiches.
“Now when you’re slicing a fashion sandwich you have to forget what I said earlier,” says Bubbles. “The trick here is to use a little more force. If you just saw away at it softly, you’re going to pull everything out.”
Our sushi is plated, wine glasses refilled and we sit down to tuck in to our first attempts at the Japanese art of sushi. Not bad, is the general consensus, but you shouldn’t expect to turn into Nobu overnight. Apart from picking up some useful tips serious chefs might find this once-off course a little simple, but for sushi-lovers eager to try their hand it’s an informative and fun evening out.
Wasabi sushi courses run most Sunday evenings from 6pm to 8pm. The course costs R350pp. Visit www.wasabi.co.za or call 021 764 6546.
First published in Food&Home Entertaining magazine; August 2011 |
Winter is a time for comfort food, and in a Cape winter there are few restaurants as cosy as Societi Bistro. Rain taps against the over-sized sash windows, while vintage Victorian fireplaces crackle cheerfully with warmth. Apron-clad waiters bustle back and forth as the high ceilings resonate with the burble of happy chatter. Rough brick walls frame daily specials scribbled on chalkboards, as plate after plate of comfort food flows out from the pass of Stéfan Marais’ kitchen.
“There’s something rewarding about long slow cooking methods, like making a cassoulet,” Stéfan tells me earlier in the day, before the rush of dinner service. “To transform a handful of raw ingredients into a beautiful finished dish where it all works so well together. There is something soothing about the whole process.”
It’s a typically relaxed approach from a chef whose small kitchen feeds up to 160 diners on a busy night. But the devil in the Societi kitchen lies in simplicity, says Stéfan.
“Ours is simple food, but cooked slowly and carefully. There are no bought in stocks or shortcuts in my kitchen. A lot of it is rural, peasant food and when it’s cold outside and pouring down with rain there’s a wonderful old-world comfort to it.”
It may be peasant food, but Stéfan has cut his teeth in some decidedly upmarket kitchens. After stints as commis chef – and eventually chef de partie – in London, he took his savings and travelled though Europe for four months, eating his way from Belgium to Italy and Spain.
“I think it was during this big tour of Europe, travelling on a really tight budget, that I just fell in love with simple peasant food. And that fits in with the dishes I love cooking now.”
A spell at Gordon Ramsay’s Royal Hospital Road, and short stints in a handful of Cape Town’s best kitchens, eventually led him to Societi in 2008, where he combines the best of both worlds in a menu he describes as “rural food served in an urban environment, with a lot of French and Italian influence.”
And in keeping with the rustic rural influence, seasonality is a key element of the kitchen, says Stéfan.
“When we do a menu the first thing is to look at what’s in season and available, and then look at what flavours will work together. Our dishes always follow the seasons, so in springtime I’ll do wonderfully simple asparagus dishes. We’re always governed by what’s fresh and in season, and I think that’s a good thing. We have an à la carte menu, but I’ll only keep things on there that I know I can get hold of for those three-months.”
As important as buying seasonally is buying local, and Stéfan puts time and effort into finding reliable local producers.
“We want to support local farmers, and using imported products just makes the dish more expensive… if you look at our menu, we want to offer dishes that are well-priced. Even with vegetables, I try and source what I can locally and we’ve got plans to replant boxes at the back of the restaurant for herbs and tomatoes.”
A poster of SASSI-approved fish has pride of place alongside the pass in Stéfan’s kitchen, and he’s passionate about getting our palates to venture off the beaten track when it comes to seafood: “I always try and use fish species that aren’t really popular, but are extremely sustainable. We had some maasbanker the other day, and I just love cooking with gurnard. It cooks in so many different ways, and stands up to so many different flavours.”
“It’s important to venture away from what you know. I’ve got four different fish suppliers, and by 9am I’ve an idea of what’s fresh off the boats and what’ll be on the menu that evening. Of course the downside is that we sometimes run out of a dish, but I’d much rather run out than serve someone three-day-old fish!”
It’s the same honesty about food that runs throughout Societi Bistro, from the specials crossed off the blackboard as the last portion is sold, to the listing of the (family-owned, local) butcher’s phone number on the menu.
“We’re a busy restaurant with a small kitchen team, and we need to make sure that each and every dish that comes out of the kitchen is up to scratch,” says Stéfan, in a rare serious moment. “The one thing that’s important across the board, whether you’re a small bistro or fine-dining restaurant, is that you have consistency. From flavour to portion size and even your service… customers have to know what to expect and you have to deliver. That’s what keeps people coming back.”
Don’t miss Societi Bistro’s ‘Tastes of Italy & France’, with a three-course regional menu on offer each week until end-November. Visit www.societi.co.za for more.
First published in Food&Home Entertaining; July 2011 |
While the über-trendy Biscuit Mill has put Woodstock firmly on the foodie map, it’s well worth exploring the nooks and crannies of this up-and-coming suburb on the edge of the Mother City’s CBD.
Superette (218 Albert Road, 021 802 5525)
From the organisers of the oh-so-trendy Neighbourgoods Market comes (perhaps unsurprisingly) the hippest eatery in Woodstock. A loveable mix of retro homeliness and achingly cool are-we-in-Scandinavia furniture sets the scene perfectly for the rustic, authentic food served with a healthy dollop of creativity.
A breakfast menu that includes much-loved ‘egg and soldiers’ is scribbled on white tiles behind the ‘70s-style kitchen counter, where a small crew beaver away creating fresh fruit juices and top-notch coffee. For lunch the pork belly sandwich is your best bet. In the small deli the bread is organic sourdough; the muffins scream freshly baked; and old-style rose geranium cordial magically leaps into your basket. Make this your first stop
The Kitchen (111 Sir Lowry Road, 021 462 2201)
It’s impossible not to love this quirky restaurant: a low counter down one side, a cornucopia of salads, pastries and home-bakes on the other… and the ever-smiling Karen Dudley in the middle.
Karen is the life and soul of The Kitchen, and her passion for all things palatable shines through. Come lunchtime, this tiny diner is packed with locals tucking into plates piled high with gourmet salads (they make over a dozen each day), or a ‘Love Sandwich’ served on artisanal bread… a steal at R40.
The décor is halfway between your granny’s house and Wonderland, with mad-hatter sandwich-makers and quirky kitchen memorabilia filling every nook and cranny. Simply delightful.
Bread (The Bromwell, 250 Albert Road, 021 447 4730)
This is firmly an eatery in two parts: on one side, a deli offers baskets piled high with the artisanal breads and decadent pastries baked on-site each morning, while local wines and imported goodies fill the shelves alongside.
Around the corner, tables spill out of the cool high-ceilinged restaurant onto a sexy patio overlooking not-so-sexy Albert Road. It’s a popular venue for mid-week meetings over coffee, but this spot really comes alive on Sundays when all-day breakfasts and live jazz over lunch lure the Lexus-drivers back into lower Woodstock. The good coffee alone makes it worth a visit.
La Bottega dello spuntino (Buchanan Square, 160 Sir Lowry Road, 021 461 9731)
The balcony at La Bottega is a great place to escape the taxis and touts of Sir Lowry Road, and this casual Italian-focused eatery is perfect for Friday afternoon drinks. The menu has a small selection of paninis, and good pasta sauces splashed over penne, but the real treat here is the aperitivo menu served after 3pm. Think crunchy bruschetta, tuna carpaccio with arugula and misto arrosto.
There’s nothing fine dining about this spot, but for a laid-back early evening knees-up it’s a great option. There’s free Wi-Fi too.
Banks (77 Sir Lowry Road, 021 461 3190)
Passionate foodies should leave their wallets at home when paying a visit to this well-stocked kitchen supply store. The shop has been in the Bank family since it first opened in District Six in 1939, and today supplies both restaurants and home chefs with anything from sharpening steels to salad spinners. Need a pukka chef’s outfit or a bath-sized pasta pot? This is the place to come.
Chandani (85 Roodebloem Road, 021 447 7887)
Rajasthan comes to Roodebloem Road at this unfailingly good North Indian restaurant run by a husband-and-wife team. The prices aren’t shy, but the food happily stands up to the damage. Rich aromas of Rogan Josh and Paneer Bhurjee (a house speciality made with home-made cottage cheese) fill the cosy rooms of this old cottage, where dark wood and brass furnishings make for an intimate night out. For something less formal, there’s also a weigh-your-plate lunchtime buffet.
Fish4Africa (230 Victoria Road, 021 448 5258)
Finding fresh seafood in Cape Town isn’t as easy as you’d think, but you can save yourself a drive to the harbour with a quick stop at this family-owned fishie. It’s a no-frills spot, but you’re guaranteed to find a good selection of fresh fish straight from the Fish4Africa boats at Hout Bay. You can also get your hands on frozen prawns, mussels and crab. If you need a simple dessert to follow, the café next door makes excellent pasteis de nata!
Wild Organics (34 Salisbury Street, 084 448 1920)
Produce that’s local and seasonal, preferably free-range and often organic: that’s what you’ll find at this simple store in the Woodstock ‘burbs. They have a popular veggie-box delivery scheme, but here you can pick and choose from what’s in stock. Don’t miss the free-range chicken and pork, from Stellenbosch and Ashton respectively. Open Tuesday (12pm-4pm), Wednesday (3pm-6pm) and Friday (10am-4pm).
First published in Food&Home Entertaining; July 2011. |
Winter in Cape Town, and the restaurant scene is awash with specials hoping to entice epicureans away from their slippers and fires, and out into the teeth of a rainy night. By and large, it works, although it’s often debatable whether you’re seeing the best side of a kitchen that has to balance a special menu with eking a profit that’ll see them through until summer.
But not every restaurant goes the route of packing ‘em in and selling ‘em cheap. Societi Bistro, for example, runs an adventurous ‘Taste of Italy and France’ during the winter months to offer something over and above their casual bistro menu. And it works… just try and get a last-minute weekend table for dinner.
Not far down the road, in Woodstock’s oh-so-trendy Biscuit Mill complex, the man who is arguably South Africa’s top chef also seems to be having no trouble pulling in diners willing to splash some cash on a memorable dinner.
Luke Dale Roberts bagged his share of limelight when he took Constantia’s La Colombe to 12th spot in the San Pellegrino 50 Best Restaurants of the World Awards last year. Soon afterwards he rolled up his knives and set up shop in The Test Kitchen; a cosy space in Woodstock’s trendy design hub.
And since opening in November 2010, Dale Roberts has been pulling sceptic Capetonians for fine dining in gritty Woodstock. A restaurant in Cape Town that has a two-week waiting list has to be good. But a waiting list in winter? Unheard of.
So with no need, or desire, to offer a cut-price special the humble Luke has decided to head in the other direction; offering a winter tasting menu that will alarm your bank manager (at R850 per head, with wine) and astound your taste buds.
But let’s talk about that price. Yes, R850 for dinner is a lot of money. But when you consider that includes 11 to 13 courses, suddenly the value-for-money starts to outweigh the chunk of change. Throw in expensive ingredients like truffle and salmon, and it’s looking better. Oh yes, did I mention there’s wine carefully paired with each course? Now it seems a lot more affordable.
And those wines are nothing run-of-the-mill… they come from two of the Swartland’s most adventurous, and respected, winemakers; Adi Badenhorst and Eben Sadie. Limited release wines, often from their own private cellars, seeing the light of day for the first time.
It’s fair to say that this is perhaps the only time you’ll get to taste the likes of ‘The Old Vine Chenin’, sourced from the country’s oldest vines. Or the ‘Single Bottling Cinsaut’, which Badenhorst kindly brings along from his own stash at home.
And so - with Luke’s genius in the kitchen, and winemaker magic filling glasses – ‘The Fantastic Eben, Adi and Luke Show’ was born. Allegedly, a late night of eating and drinking also helped things on their way.
And if you want to be dazzled by this epicurean carnival, you’d best be quick. The ‘show’ runs until 27 July, and bookings are already hotting up.
But don’t arrive expecting dancing girls and acrobats like other inner-city eateries… here, the entertainment is on your plate and in your glass: a tasting menu that shows off Luke’s deft hand in the kitchen, balanced with a soft touch from the cellars of Adi and Eben.
Served in a series of Acts, expect dishes reduced to their purest forms (an ‘Egg on Toast’ enhanced with the richness of truffle), tomatoes as you’ve ever tasted before (home-dried tomatoes with crumbling butter pastry and rich cream cheese) or delicate seaside flavours of fresh oyster and watercress (paired with an astounding ‘funky white’ from Adi).
Of the array of dishes, there are no misses, but a few absolute standouts. Salmon tataki with yuzu dressing and halva was the first to leave me speechless. Sweet halva with fish, I hear you ask? Just wait until you try it!
I’ve never been a big fan of innards, but Pan-seared Veal Tongue served with the most delicate puree of peanut and elephant garlic was outstanding. Not to mention the accompanying scallop that almost led to some table thievery. This was paired with Mrs Kirsten’s The Old Vine Chenin that “comes from the oldest vineyard in the country, planted in 1905,” explained winemaker Eben Sadie. “We make just one barrel a year.”
A generous fillet of seared duck breast came alive with a beetroot, lentil and juniper salsa, as Pan-fried sweetbreads (more unexpectedly fabulous innards) topped with a liquorice and liver glaze rounded off three hours of hope-it-never-ends dining.
“We really advise people to arrive early, if they’re going for the tasting menu,” said Luke as he took a rare break from the kitchen to drop by our table. “It’s not the sort of thing you rush through, and if you rock up at 9pm and order the tasting menu the kitchen might not be too happy!”
I make it a rule never to annoy men with knives, and he’s right of course. But arrive early for yourself, not the kitchen. This is an experience you’ll want to savour.
It’s a relaxed space, but you can afford to dress up a little. The food in this ‘Show’ makes it a special occasion worth a few gladrags. There’s homely, yet modern crockery and good stemware to ogle over. There’s excellent service to appreciate and 13 delectable courses to enjoy. Take your time.
So without further ado this winter; roll up, roll up ladies and gentlemen. Charge your glasses (and your credit cards) for the ‘The Fantastic Eben, Adi and Luke Show’!
For bookings or further information, visit www.thetestkitchen.co.za or call 021 447 2337. You can also follow Luke on Twitter: @ldrchef. The Test Kitchen is open for lunch and dinner from Tuesday to Saturday. The 11-13 course menu includes wines is priced at R850 per person. Prior booking is essential. |
There are few smells that bring a smile to my face faster than freshly baked bread. I’m not much of a home cook, but I can certainly hold my own when it comes to conjuring a little magic with flour, yeast and water. My wife reckons it’s cool hands and my mum’s skill with a pastry brush showing through.
But even the best baker could do with a few tips, and the prospect of a morning getting my hands doughy at Chez Gourmet was the perfect opportunity to try out the courses at this delightful cookery school in Cape Town’s southern suburbs.
The homely feel and relaxed atmosphere at Chez Gourmet belies the serious credentials in the kitchen. Chef Patron Jenny Howard used to teach at the acclaimed Silwood School of Cookery and brought in one of her star pupils, Emma Chadderton, to head up the Teaching Kitchen. When they’re not tutoring home chefs they offer the Institute for Hospitality Education in SA’s Diploma in Professional Cookery, along with a host of other professional diplomas.
It’s a stomping ground for serious chefs, but the mood in our small class is jovial and relaxed as Emma talks us through the morning’s program. As with most of the short courses on offer – which range from cake baking to canapés to themed cuisine – we’ll cram a wide range of recipes into our three hours. Ingredients are already neatly measured and stacked; ready and waiting for us to strap on our aprons.
A major selling point of the Chez Gourmet courses is the individual workstations – there’s no sharing or being brushed aside by overzealous classmates. The kitchen can accommodate up to 12 students, but for intense lessons – such as our bread workshop – it’s rarely more than half a dozen, so you’re assured of personal attention.
With baking, we start with the basics.
“The important thing with yeast is the ratios: it’s a living, biological raising agent and a very temperamental ingredient!” warns Emma, as we look at our lumps of pale brown yeast with new respect. “If you add too much salt, or your water is too hot, you’ll kill it.”
The dough is mixed, kneading tips are dispensed, fresh coffee is poured and I steal a glance to see if the others are covered in as much flour as I am.
“The kneading is so important because it forms the glutens, which give bread its structure,” explains Emma, as our tired arms work the dough on the brushed-steel counters.
While our knotted kitka is rising in the proving oven (a warm, humid steam-room for bread) we get cracking on our whole-wheat and basic white breads. Risen kitkas get splashed with an egg-glaze, ovens clang shut, loaves rotate through the prover and the smell of baking bread fills the sunny kitchen. We move quickly from one bread to the next and before long the cooling racks are piled high with loaves. Last of all, we tackle rotis and naan breads, but I don’t think my local Indian take-away should worry about losing my business just yet.
Not so for any Jewish deli though… the kitkas and enriched rolls are sublime, and my white loaf beats government bread hands-down. Boxes are filled, breads compared and – best of all – there’s no washing up.
I leave with improved techniques and a dossier of handy recipes, and – most importantly – a new enthusiasm for baking our daily bread. And that’s perhaps the best reason to go to one of Chez Gourmet’s courses. The passion for cooking is infectious, and whether you want to brush up on rusty skills or learn a few new dishes, you’ll walk away with a new hunger to get your hands dirty in the kitchen.
For full details of the short courses on offer, visit www.chezgourmet.co.za or call (021) 671 2080. Three-hour morning courses cost R330 per person, including all ingredients and tea/coffee. Discounts are available for longer courses. There is also a small shop on-site selling useful kitchen gadgets. Don’t leave without a French rolling pin and their ingenious slide trays.
First published in Food&Home Entertaining, May 2011 |
Usually a whirlwind of energy about all things epicurean, I smile to myself when one of my first questions to Michael Broughton brings the conversation to an abrupt halt. The coffee cup pauses halfway to his lips, he gazes off into the middle distance and for a moment he’s wistfully speechless.
 “The first sauce that all made sense? It was a Ciboulette; a classic French sauce that you use for fish. The first time I got it right it came out so light, so fragrant, so well seasoned. Everything just opened up for me then.”
It was one of many light bulb moments for the entirely self-taught Michael who, after nearly a decade spent managing hotels, enjoyed “an early midlife crisis” and decided it was time to follow his true passion in the kitchen.
“The first cook book I picked up before opening Broughton’s in Parkview was by Nico Ladenis. I remember I took that book home on a Friday night and I put it down at 6am the next morning thinking, ‘Wow, this is the standard by which all food should be judged.’ And from there the journey began.”
And it’s been quite a journey. From Broughton’s in Johannesburg’s leafy Parkview, to a larger space in Sandton Square, and then – in 2004 – to open Terroir; his unpretentious eatery in the shade of 300-year-old oak trees on Kleine Zalze wine estate outside Stellenbosch. And in those few short years, the restaurant’s French-inspired menu has made it an almost permanent fixture in EatOut’s list of the top 10 restaurants in South Africa.
Yet while the surrounding winelands abound with gleaming new restaurants offering menus of chocolate gravel and artichoke foam, Michael insists that in his “classic food with a contemporary twist” simplicity reigns supreme.
“We’ve always had the philosophy of presenting our food as deceptively simple,” explains Michael, as sounds of the kitchen in full prep drift out onto the terrace. “We don’t put things on the plate that are unpronounceable and we’re not torturing our ingredients, we’re just making sure they’re at the peak of their flavour profile when they come to your plate.
“Tomatoes are confited, sauces are reduced, and stocks are clarified. So the dish is certainly not as simple as it seems, because we’re working so hard in the kitchen to refine the dish so we don’t lose the essence.”
And distilling the essence of each dish is precisely what sets Terroir apart, in the intense yet delicate sauces and classic French pairings that are the hallmark of every plate leaving the pass.
“Like a good wine, when eating my sauces you should come across layers of flavour as it goes down. Often when I eat other chefs’ food I find I’m enjoying the dish, but it’s missing something. It’s missing that last orchestral movement that brings it all together. Not that the sauce should ever steal the show, or become a one-dimensional show, but the sauce has to bring everything together. It has to work as a conductor for the whole plate.”
But great conductors, like great sauces, aren’t made overnight and a perceptive ear – or palate – can easily single out the unpractised hand.
“Simplicity and restraint are what you need to create a great sauce, and you can taste how a seasoned hand will have a balance in his sauce. You can teach a saucier up to a certain level, but you have to know how to compensate. The difference is when your mind and your intuition connect… that’s a true saucier.”
“There’s a very true saying in the kitchen, that you don’t have to be a clever chef if you’ve got good produce,” laughs Michael. “So if you’re making a sauce with tomatoes, make sure they are nice and ripe; otherwise it’s going to be acidic. And if you want to take it seriously, you’ve got to have a good stock on hand. Without a good clear stock you’re not going to get far.”
The sauce’s role as conductor, not performer, is also vital, reminds Michael: “The sauce has to match with what you’re eating. But you need to have discipline and restraint in the sauce, to give it that sharpened flavour. There’s nothing worse than a flat sauce, a one-dimensional sauce.”
 While Michael’s industrial set-up and team of sous-chefs no doubt make life easier for preparing dozens of delicate sauces for each service, it’s a surprisingly humble kitchen tool that is never far away when he’s behind the pass.
“My absolute essential – both here and at home – is a simple stick blender, says Michael. “I do everything with it. We froth a sauce,
we emulsify vinaigrettes, and we’ll agitate sauce; while at home I make salsa with it. It is a magic tool.”
That such a simple tool is the key to Michael’s complex, award-winning sauces is both surprising and typical of a chef who runs his kitchen in summer shorts and is quick to share his knowledge with young chefs.
“What I learnt from eating often at La Colombe, when Franck Dangereux was still cooking there… is that, sometimes, the simplest things are the nicest,” he says with a smile. “I love the simplicity here, and the humility of the whole place.”
Humble words from a humble chef, and as Michael heads off into the kitchen to prepare for the lunchtime rush it’s me who’s left speechless; my palate tumbling through the layers of his creamy mustard sauce. Deceptively simple indeed…
First published in Food&Home Entertaining; May 2011
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It’s impossible to visit London without enjoying a pint – and a bite to eat – ‘down the pub’. But not all pubs are created equal, so we set Richard Holmes loose on London to track down the capital’s best gastro-pubs; where fine food and real ale live happily ever after…
The Duke of Cambridge
A few steps from the historic Regent’s Canal (an excellent spot for a digestive stroll), this unassuming local is an unlikely revolutionary. But as Britain’s first entirely organic pub, The Duke is without doubt a London trendsetter proving that ethical and incredible can go hand-in-hand when it comes to food.
The Duke is heaven for locavores, with over eighty percent of the kitchen’s shopping list coming from the Home Counties near London. The meat is free-range, the beer is organic, and the fish is (largely) line-caught off the south coast. The dedication to all things local extends to the wine list, with a dry white and bubbly sourced from Limney estate in nearby Sussex.
Inside, The Duke is a light and airy space with tall picture windows overlooking the comings and goings of trendy Islington. Heavy wooden tables and weathered-enamel water jugs give the place a loved and lived-in feel that extends to the menu.
Scribbled on a corner blackboard, it changes daily and with the seasons. Fillet of Grey Mullet is served with a yellow split-pea stew, while Lamb is given a hearty treatment with marrow and aubergine. House-baked bread is served sliced into thick chunks for mopping up every last drop of delicious sauce. Great food with a clear conscience.
30 St Peter's Street, Islington, N1 8JT
Main courses: £14-£17
+44 (0)20 7359 3066
Princess of Shoreditch
Hidden away amongst anonymous office blocks near the City, the name is certainly apt for this delightful eatery in the twisting back roads of Shoreditch. Built in 1742, there’s a palpable sense of history at this casual gastro-pub with its well-worn leather banquettes and vintage fittings.
Office workers gossip and daily papers lie waiting at your table… it’s a laid-back local spot. There’s nothing too challenging about the menu, but it’s chock-full of English classics done well at Rand-friendly prices.
A Three Cheese Tart served with quince chutney caught my eye, as did the Seared Loch Duart Salmon with fennel reduction… but if there’s a litmus test for a gastro-pub I reckon it’s the humble fish and chips. Easy to ruin, but done well it’s a dish few people won’t love.
And the Princess’ Beer-battered Pollack (a sustainable species) with hand-cut chips and homemade tartar sauce was sublime. Served with a pint of Loddon Hoppit from Oxfordshire – one of their seasonal cask ales – it was the perfect East End pub meal. No wonder Time Out voted this modest princess London’s Best New Gastro-pub for 2010.
76 Paul Street, EC2A 4NE
Main courses: £10-£12
+44 (0)20 7729 9270
The Harwood Arms
Michelin stars and pubs don’t usually sit well together, but that’s exactly what chef Stephen Williams has pulled off at the surprisingly low-key Harwood Arms in upmarket Fulham.
The first ever London pub to bag a Michelin star, it’s not surprising that you’ll pay a little more to sample a menu that embraces the best of British cooking and ingredients. Seasonality wafts through the menu, which features a wonderful array of local venison, game and fish. There’s even English truffle, sourced from a forest “somewhere in Berkshire”. Unsurprisingly, the owners aren’t saying where!
This is pub food unlike any other you’ll have had before, with Roe deer and Douglas Fir sausage jostling for attention with Butterflied and stuffed mackerel served with a sour dough crust. Adventurous and innovative, it’s kitchens like The Harwood Arms’ that might one day shake off the continental sniggers when it comes to British cooking.
Walham Grove, Fulham SW6 1QP
Main courses: £10-£12
£15-£17
+44 (0)207 386 1847
The Narrow
Gordon Ramsay is a man with his fair share of Michelin stars, but his well-regarded riverside pub does just fine without any stellar backing.
Situated on the banks of the Thames at Limehouse in the east of London, it’s hard to focus on the food with such wonderful river views. The historic Regent’s and Grand Union Canal meet the Thames here, and it’s a pleasant spot to pass an afternoon with a pint of Broadside in hand.
Real ales are the perfect accompaniment to Ramsay’s uncomplicated menu, with the likes of Wiltshire Duck and Celeriac Puree served with creamed cabbage and chestnuts. British classics do well in this eatery that’s popular bankers from Canary Wharf… perhaps the likes of Cherry Eton Mess bring back fond memories of public school days. The Narrow is a little off the beaten track, but then most places worth a visit usually are.
44 Narrow Street, Limehouse, E14 8DP
Main courses: £13-£17
+44 (0)20 7592 7950
The White Horse
Food in pubs is a relatively new phenomenon though, and for many Londoners the pub is first and foremost a place for a pint or two. Or three. And there are few better places in London for a pint than The White Horse on Parson’s Green; a pub that takes beer seriously, with over 30 cask ales on tap at any one time.
Cask ales are the single malt of beer; handcrafted and unique, they’re the quintessential British beer. Speak nicely to the barman and he’ll happily let you taste your way through the dozens on tap to find one that suits your palate. I couldn’t get enough of the 4.8% ‘Freeminer Speculation’ from Gloucestershire.
In winter, deep leather couches and cosy nooks offer a respite from the dark days outside, while in summer the crowds spill out onto terrace tables and often over to the grassy lawns of Parson’s Green. Unsurprisingly, the compact menu of British pub favourites comes with recommended beer pairings.
1-3 Parson's Green, SW6 4UL
Main courses: £10-£13
+44 (0)20 7736 2115
First published in Food&Home Entertaining; February 2011 |
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I fear I have become a bore; a dreadful, interminable bore. Yet while my friends tire of my fulminations, I keep digging myself further into the trenches of the moral high ground. And it all comes down to sausages. Free range sausages. Happy-pig sausages.
Blame it on impending hippiedom, the arrival of a first child or Michael Pollan (more on him later), but the provenance of produce has become my latest bugbear. Conversation around my braai isn’t about rugby or rate cuts, but open ranges and the lack thereof.
I’m by no means a vegetarian (although my wife is), and have no qualms with slaughtering animals for food. But I – and call me an old softie – do want to know that the animal led a decent life before it was trotted off to become my dinner.
Which started me thinking; how does my meat become meat? How free range is free range? Is anybody setting the rules, and ensuring farmers play by them? Should we even care?
When it comes to an issue as emotive as meat – where it comes from, how the animals are treated and how it ends up on my plate – there is simply no chance of being objective. So I’ll lay my cards on the table and declare my bias right now: all hail the free-range pig, I say.
But what about the starving masses, I hear you say. They can’t afford it, surely? Cash-strapped middle-class families? Will grass-fed beef trump ballet-classes? And the land? Can those fields even feed us all? All valid questions with no easy answers, for when it comes to eating; ethical is most certainly in the eye of the beholder.
But in the mire of commercial growers, passionate free-range farmers and idealistic lobbyists, I can offer you one inescapable truth: we nail our colours to the mast when we take out our purse at the tills. Our food industry is one of pure capitalism, and the market will provide what the consumer demands.
As Michael Pollan notes in ‘The Omnivore’s Dilemma’ (see sidebar), eating is “an ecological act, and a political act, too. Though much has been done to obscure this simple fact, how and what we eat determines to a great extent the use we make of the world, and what is to become of it.”
So what are we – what are you – asking the food industry to provide when you reach into the meat fridge at your local supermarket?
For the one billion – yes, billion – commercial chickens raised in South Africa each year, we are mostly asking them to cram into a large windowless warehouse and scoff grain (often spiced up with antibiotics and growth promoters) that’ll fatten up their thighs and breasts. After 35 days or so, they’ll be carted off to abattoirs that process 18 million birds per week in an endless conveyor belt of broiler.
While few broiler chickens – birds raised for meat, not eggs – are raised in ‘battery’ cages, in the massive warehouses where most South African chicken is grown up to 25 birds are to be found on every square metre of floor space. One square metre, 25 chickens. That’s cosy.
But Rainbow Chickens – South Africa’s largest chicken producer, slaughtering 4.4-million birds a week and selling a quarter of South Africa’s chicken – denies that its farms are inhumane.
“Our birds are raised in broiler houses,” says Stephen Heath, Corporate Affairs Director for Rainbow Chicken Farms. “All birds have sufficient space to walk, turn, sit and preen and flap or stretch their wings. The SPCA regularly inspects the houses and processing plants to ensure that the processes and practices are humane.”
Sounds acceptable, but we’ll have to take their word for it. Citing “bio-security” concerns, Rainbow Chickens turned down my request to visit any of their broiler houses or abattoirs.
Not so with Jeanne Groenewald; whose Elgin Free Range is one of the leaders in the free-range market. She was happy to show me around their farms in the Cape Overberg, along with the abattoir where the birds inevitably end up. Although there are still up to 15 birds per square metre in the broiler houses, during the day the flock is free to wander in grassy fields nearby.
There’s shade, grass, bugs… so why aren’t all chickens raised like this?
“We produce about 65 000 to 70 000 birds per week,” says Groenewald, whose birds are sold in Woolworths stores all the way up to East London. Compared to Rainbow’s four million, perhaps free-range is just a nice-to-have for the moneyed-few?
Free-range chicken is a drop in the poultry ocean and conventional chicken farming is essential to feed the nation, argues Heath: “High density chicken production allows scale and reduces costs to help provide affordable protein for many. Free-range would increase the cost of chicken meat to producers, and accordingly to consumers.”
While the chicken industry is leading the way in making free-range produce certified and more widely available, other industries have a lot of catching up to do says lobby group Compassion in World Farming (CIWF).
“Pigs are kept in cages so small they can’t even turn around,” says Tozie Zokufa, who spent nine years as a meat inspector before joining the local branch of CIWF, whose lofty goal is the end of factory farming by 2050. “They have their tails cut off and teeth removed to prevent fighting. Unless they are about to give birth pigs will be confined in their crates.”
But Dr. Peter Evans, veterinary liaison officer for the SA Pork Producers’ Organisation (SAPPO), says that modern commercial piggeries “are specifically designed to cater for the pigs’ requirements, especially shelter from the sun, high temperature fluctuations and other environmental stresses. Free-ranging pigs in hot tropical/sub-tropical climates is extremely challenging… sunburn is particularly dangerous to modern white breeds of pigs”
But it’s a system that offends Paul Brand, who rears free-range pigs on the Happy Hog farm near Ashton: “To me, an animal’s got to be in the sun. This story about pigs getting sunburnt is absolute rubbish. Pigs are clever animals… they will go into the shade if it’s too hot.”
Although there are currently no regulations governing what is ‘free-range’ pork, Brand’s 500 pigs roam freely in fenced camps of grass, oat and lucerne.
“A commercial pig will be slaughtered at around five months. Ours average six to seven months,” says Brand. “They take longer to grow because they’re expending energy running around. It doesn’t all go to growing fat. It boils down to money, money, money. We make a living on this farm, and we want our animals to grow up naturally. For me, I want to know where my meat comes from.”
Tracing produce from field to frying pan is also the principle behind Fair Game, a fledgling initiative of the Landmark Foundation to establish a brand of wildlife-friendly produce.
“We often feel powerless and are horrified about what’s happening. Here, the power to make the change is in the hands of the powerless,” explains Dr. Bool Smuts, Director of the Landmark Foundation, who says that consumers need to accept that wildlife-friendly meat comes at a premium. “The benefit has to go back to the landowner, who is then incentivised to farm ethically. “Making that ethical choice at the till, and making that tiny little contribution, stretches right back into the field to change behaviour.”
Conserving rangelands and protecting predators is largely an issue with beef and sheep farming, with dozens of predators – leopard, caracal and jackal – poisoned or caught in gin traps each year. Ironically, it’s free-range methods – not feedlots – that take the highest toll on predators.
And ignoring the impact on wildlife, CIWF says that cattle and sheep farming are some of the better agri-industries in terms of animal welfare.
“But there is still room for improvement,” says Zokufa. “As much as they are free range for some of their lives, for at least 90 days before slaughter they are sent to a feedlot where they are fattened up on grains, often with growth hormones in the feed.”
If we are what we eat, there are certainly real issues around grass-fed versus grain-fed beef, but Karan Beef – who operate the largest feedlot in Africa, with 120 000 head of cattle – declined to comment and referred F&HE to the SA Feedlot Association. Despite repeated requests for comment the SA Feedlot Association failed to respond to questions, or a request to visit a feedlot facility.
But with chicken making up a full sixty percent of the animal protein consumed each year, perhaps we should worry most about the poultry on our supermarket shelves. And a major issue facing supposedly ‘free-range’ chicken is that not all birds are created equal.
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It’s been over 30 years since Mozambique pulled down the Portuguese flag and declared itself independent, but you’ll still see ‘LM prawns’ on the menu at South Africa’s top seafood restaurants. Lourenço Marques may be long gone, but the up-and-coming capital is still home to some of Africa’s best seafood. From prawns to pasteis de nata, Richard Holmes set out to eat his way across Maputo…
Costa do Sol
The Avenida Marginal was a very different place when the Petrarkis family first started their hotel/restaurant in the 1930s. The city may have changed along the way, but the steady stream of punters queuing for a table certainly hasn’t. This Maputo institution could probably do with a lick of paint, but on a bustling weekend the food flying out of the kitchen is still some of the best in the city.
Crispy prawn rissoles, freshly-dug clams steamed in their shells and smothered in garlic, crusty bread to mop up the sauce…. all mouth-watering bit players that are merely setting the stage for the platters of prawns Costa is famous for. Most tourists go for them straight off the grill, but I’d suggest you look at the menu a little closer. Run your finger down past the familiar options until you reach ‘Prawns Naçional’. Trust me; you won’t regret it. And remember, if you want a sea-view table on the airy terrace it’s best to call ahead, especially on the weekend.
5kms from city on Avenida Marginal
+258 21 450115
Marisqueira Sagres
It’s easy to tell when a restaurant is run with passion; passion for the food and the customers, and that’s certainly the case at the family-owned Sagres. Romeo Fernandes and his family have run this beachfront eatery– a few steps from the Southern Sun Maputo – for over a decade, and they take looking after their diners seriously.
The piri-piri sauce is homemade, and justifiably famous, and it’s a rare night when Romeo’s not at the counter keeping an eye on things. This well-priced family-friendly spot is a hit with locals and is brimming with old school charm. The menu is filled with seafood, including fresh clams and crab, and there are great sea-views from the terrace. And if there’s a football game on, you can be sure the soccer-crazy Romeo will have it showing on the big-screen next door.
4272 Avenida Marginal
+258 21 495 201
Restaurante Piripiri
Maputo is as famous for its piri-piri chicken as for its seafood, and this old-school diner in the heart of the city is far and away the best place to get spicy. The juicy birds are marinated overnight and cooked over a good old-fashioned coal-fire. Served with simple garnish of green chilli and lemon juice, you can either eat-in or take-away. It’s a great spot for quelling those late-night munchies, or a casual meal after a tiring day pounding the pavements.
Avenida 24 de Julho
+258 21 492379
Zambi
Housed in an stylishly offbeat building by celebrated Portuguese architect Amancio
‘Pancho’ Guedes, Zambi is the place to book for an upmarket evening out. Owner-chef Jorge Jordão used to create magic in the kitchens of Costa do Sol, so he knows his way around a prawn or two. But seafood aside, this sleek city restaurant on the waterfront overlooking Catembe is equally famous for its steaks and stunning fresh salads (the shredded crab is a popular choice) and decadent desserts. The wine list is – unlike many other city restaurants – surprisingly affordable, so there’s little reason not to linger on the outside terrace and bid another sunset boa noite.
Avenida 10 de Novembro
Café Acacia
Gardens don’t do too well in the Mozambican capital, falling victim to neglect and the humid weather all too quickly. Which makes the recently revamped Jardim dos Professores such a delight. Perched on a hilltop overlooking the bay and Catembe, the once-neglected Jardim is now bustling with kids in the playground and young families lolling on the lawns. And adjacent to this haven from the bustling streets is the pleasant Café Acacia.
At lunch it’s a chatty mix of travellers and suited businessmen, while on weekends the shady tables are filled with parents keeping a distant eye on the playground while tucking into the selection of easy-going light meals on offer, washed down with a glass of vinho verde. You won’t find gourmet cuisine at Acacia, but for a quiet corner in the middle of a busy day of sightseeing this picturesque garden café is a welcome respite from the city streets. A great spot to enjoy a creamy pasteis de nata custard tart and a coffee.
Avenida Patrice Lumumba
+258 21 30 0638
Fiamma’s
A few steps away from Café Acacia, the hilltop lawns of the Hotel Cardoso are hard to beat for sundowners in the city. And if the tropical steaminess means you can’t be bothered to go wandering off into the city for dinner, then it’s just a few steps to Fiamma’s. Here you’ll find a wide-ranging Italian-inspired menu, with more of those intoxicating city views. The main restaurant can feel a little hotel-ey, so rather ask for a table on the pleasant terrace.
707 Avenida Martires de Mueda
+258 21 491071
Mercado do Peixe
Let’s get one thing clear… the Fish Market is not for everyone. If you demand a silver fish knife with your Dorado, or a bowl of warm lemon-water with your prawns, perhaps you’d better stay away.
If, however, you like a sprinkle of local colour with your lunch, then hop in a taxi and simply ask for the mercado do peixe (pronounced pay-sh) out on the Avenida Marginal.
A visit to the Mercado is basically a haggle in two parts. First, you wander the lines of seafood traders peddling their day’s catch. Fresh fish (clear eyes and bright-red gills means it’s fresh), prawns, crabs and lobster line the tables as vendors hawk their wares. Scout out what’s on offer and then get your haggling hat on.
With seafood in hand, take a wander over to the ramshackle restaurants for part two. Cooks and owners of the makeshift eateries – little more than a grill and a few tables – tout for the business of cooking what you’ve just bought for lunch. With a bit of bartering you’ll arrive at a fair price – perhaps with a beer or two thrown in – and you take a seat to await your feast. What could be easier!
Remember; this emporium of all things edible and aquatic is the definition of free market so don’t be shy to haggle. The market is heaving on sunny Sunday lunches, so visit during the week if you want to avoid the crowds.
First published in Indwe magazine; November 2010 |
Wed 05 Jan 2011 |
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On Course: Societi Bistro |
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Go on. Admit it. In the midst of whipping together that last dinner party you leant back and thought, just for a second, that perhaps you could have been a chef. Paid to cook… a dream job.
Even if your cheffing ship has sailed, there’s still the chance to get a taste for life on the other side of the pass with Societi Bistro’s ‘Kitchen Unconfidential’.
Societi’s one of my favourite Cape Town eateries, so I was intrigued to play cook – not critic – for a change and signed up for this three-day peek into a chef’s world. Three days, twelve hours a day. I had my work cut out for me.
‘Kitchen Unconfidential’ has a bit of a split personality. Chef Stefan Marais happily tailors the course around what you’d like to learn, but this is also a working kitchen. If cupcakes and prawn gumbo aren’t on the menu, chances are you won’t be cooking them.
And it’s key not to be too precious in the kitchen. If pepper needs crushing, or onions need chopping – yes, all 10kgs of them – then dive in and sharpen those knife skills. Chances are you’ll learn something new from old kitchen hands, and the crew will respect that you’re not afraid of getting your hands dirty.
Each day starts at 9am, and prep is already in full swing. I get stuck into the daily bread, before flouring and searing two-dozen lamb shanks. Coq au vin for 20 is next, followed by cooking down a pork belly. Most dishes are prepped fresh each day, so if you miss out one day you can always get stuck in on the next.
Throughout the day Stefan and Kyle (the sous chef) keep me busy on a variety of dishes, offering tips and moving me between stations. After a two-hour break (my feet are already a little weary), I come back to the kitchen at 6pm and there’s a sense of the team getting ready for battle. Cooks check their mise-en-place of clarified butter, stock, salt and herbs. Dishtowels are shifted nervously from shoulder to apron and back again. I watch and learn, helping to top up herbs and wipe down sections in preparation for the inevitable rush.
As diners start arriving, the chattering printer dictates the pace of life in the kitchen. Although the pace ebbs and flows, there’s always a corner of the kitchen that’s working flat-out. Cold section bookends dinner with salads and desserts, while the grill and hot starters are a flurry of activity throughout the evening.
Across the three days you’re given a chance to work the service across all sections of the kitchen. Watching the team in full flight can be intimidating, but I take it one dish at a time and soon learn how the pieces fall into place. Risottos become second nature, spinach is sautéed without second thought and I have burns from the grill to show off.
Working the pass is a highlight, as it’s where the magic comes together. Stefan plays air traffic controller with incoming orders, and plates each dish perfectly before handing it over to waiters. It’s an exciting and exhausting day in the kitchen… and we’ll do it all again tomorrow.
Did I learn how to cook new dishes? For sure, and Stefan is only too generous with his recipes. New skills? Absolutely, and I can now chop veggies with the best of them. But most of all I learnt new respect for the professional chefs who slave away behind the pass, obeying the printer and conjuring top-class meals each and every night.
This is a cooking experience, not just a cooking course. If you want to learn a few dishes and skills you’ll certainly find that here, but it’s more than that. It’s a taste for the enthusiastic amateur of what could have been.
Kitchen Unconfidential costs R3000 per person for three days.
Call 021 42 42 100 or visit www.societi.co.za.
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Fri 31 Dec 2010 |
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Entertainer: Matthew Gordon |
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With three eateries to fill in South Africa’s hotly contested gourmet capital, Matthew Gordon should really look more concerned. Driving up Franschhoek’s oak-lined Main Road towards the three arches of the Huguenot Monument I expect to meet a worried man; furrowed brow and anxious hands.
 Instead, I find Matthew relaxed, cappucino in hand, on the pin-stripe banquettes of The Grill Room, his latest offering in this ever-popular winelands village. Welcoming, self-assured, confident… the prospect of filling another two-dozen tables every day is apparently not an issue for this chef-patron-entrepreneur who could well be the Gordon Ramsay of Franschhoek. Minus the temper.
“I find the business aspect of it very rewarding, it’s very challenging. I’ve been doing it for a while though… I think my first restaurant opened when I was 26… so hopefully that means I’m good at it!” chuckles Matthew. “And the restaurant business is not the easiest to be in, especially in Franschhoek; it’s a very competitive little town.”
After training in Johannesburg, and cutting his culinary teeth in the kitchens of London and Vancouver, Matthew was brought to Cape Town by the widely-respected Garth Stroebel to cook for, perhaps coincidentally, the old Grill Room restaurant at the Mount Nelson.
“Then in 1992 I moved out to Franschhoek and started my first restaurant, called Le Ballon Rouge. In those early days in Franschhoek there wasn’t a hell of a lot around, and in its day it was very popular.”
In 1995 he moved on to open the fine-dining Haute Cabriere Cellar Restaurant, in partnership with eccentric cellar-master Achim von Arnim. Evidently not kept busy enough, French Connection on the town’s main drag followed in 2002, and remains the restaurant Matthew is most proud of.
“The Grill Room is my new baby, and it needs to prove itself, but French Connection is probably my favourite of the three. It was something where I really hit the nail on the head with what it offered… a bistro; informal, serving French food with a South African twist. That was a real success story for me; I saw the concept and I knew it would do well, and I’ve remained true to that concept.
But it’s the “new baby” – The Grill Room – that’s drawn us out to Franschhoek this lunchtime. Daily specials are scribbled on a chalkboard; exposed brick walls and plush banquettes add a classy New York feel, while tables spill out onto a sunny terrace. Upstairs, an elegant private dining room flanks the wine cellar, while an on-site butcher offers the restaurant’s best cuts to take-away.
While we wait for Matthew’s guests to arrive he explains why he’s added another eatery to his repertoire.
“I think there’s a gap in the market here in Franschhoek… I wanted this to be an upmarket steakhouse with a great wine list and some excellent meat. We do offer fish, shellfish and Mozambique prawns, but I wanted the focus here to be on steak. I also wanted it to be a local-friendly restaurant; with a nice easy feel to it.”
With two kids to think of – Emma (10) and Kate (6) – it’s no surprise that The Grill Room is also family-friendly, offering a supervised children’s play area that’s out of earshot from the main restaurant.
“It’s such a winner with our young kids. We have to drag them back to the table to eat!” laughs Matthew’s wife Nicky, who’s popped down from the Cabriere restaurant to join us.
“It’s relaxed,” agrees Matthew, “but I still want people to be blown away by the food, and by the wine. There are some serious wines on our list, so that will certainly appeal to both locals and tourists.”
For the man who spends his leisure-time mountain-biking in the hills, or flying over them (he has a pilot’s licence for both helicopters and light aircraft), keeping it local is also important when it comes to fresh produce.
“We use as much as possible from the local area, and we’d rather work our menu around what we can get, not mission to find the things we can’t! We have a very good duck supplier down the road in Klapmuts, and there are several berry suppliers right here in Franschhoek.
"There’s nothing I haven’t done with a trout!”
“There’s also Three Streams Smokehouse, who smoke their trout just up the valley, near Boekenhoutskloof. It’s a great product and we use a lot of their fish. Across the restaurants there are usually always two or three trout dishes on offer. Tartar, carpaccio, gravadlax, sashimi… there’s nothing I haven’t done with a trout!”
As guests arrive and are offered a glass of bubbly - Pierre Jourdan Brut from Cabriere, of course – Matthew talks me through the starter he’s prepping in The Grill Room’s open show-kitchen.
“It’s made from Royal Highlands Trout that’s actually farmed up in Lesotho. The fillets are just lightly smoked, so it’s not too salty, and we then just sear it on the grill. And I think the crisp apples and lettuce of the Waldorf salad work nicely with the fish.”
Intrigued by these high-altitude trout, I quiz Andrew Stubbs from Three Streams over lunch.
“We only smoke these trout for two hours, so it’s a very light flavour,” agrees Andrew who, with his brother Gregory, runs the Three Streams Smokehouse. Fish are smoked with the oak shavings from local wine barrels and “because of the cold water in Lesotho we can keep the trout in the water longer, so we’re able to get fish weighing up to two kilograms that give us these wonderful big fillets.”
“Trout also has more healthy Omega-3 acids than salmon,” adds Andrew, to an appreciative nod from Karen Protheroe, local dietician and author. As talk turns to organic veggie gardens, wine estate gossip and the memories of an icy winter, Matthew wanders off to rustle up the main course.
The Grill Room is a place that takes its meat seriously, and Matthew’s hauled out some sizeable T-bones for this lunch.
“Why the T-Bone? Well, we want to show off our meat here, that’s what we’re all about. It’s served simply with Café de Paris butter and is very popular in the restaurant. I’m a bit of a traditionalist when it comes to steak, and I love rump and T-Bone. The last bit of steak I would eat is fillet, it just doesn’t taste of anything, and that’s the first steak people usually choose off the menu!”
“We only use grain-fed beef at the moment, but we’re shortly going to be offering grass-fed on the menu too. Personally I don’t taste a huge difference between the two, so I think it’s more of an ethical decision than a culinary one. Who knows, if the grass-fed takes off perhaps we’ll drop the grain-fed. They’re all options, but it’s good that people are thinking about these kinds of things when it comes to food.”
The steaks are presented at the table on rustic wooden boards, a no-nonsense steak knife to hand and a gorgeous knob of Café de Paris melting slowly across the top. Side orders of julienne vegetables and a healthy baked potato complete the meal.
"Let’s try the ‘Gentle Giant’”
On one corner of the table is Rob Armstrong from Haut Espoir wine estate, and tucked under his arm as he walked in earlier were six bottles of his estate’s best red wine.
“Petit Verdot or ‘Gentle Giant’,” mulls Matthew, weighing up a bottle of each. “We have the Petit Verdot on our wine-list here, so let’s try the ‘Gentle Giant’.”
“This is a blend of nine different cultivars,” explains Rob as he noses the inky-red wine. “The backbone is Merlot and Petit Verdot, but there are also things like Chardonnay and Shiraz in there to make it interesting. We’re a small estate, only producing about 80 000 bottles a year, and most of those are actually drunk here in Franschhoek. “
Rob’s a broad-shouldered guy towering close to seven foot so, I wonder, was the ‘Gentle Giant’ named after him?
“No, it was actually named for my bigger brother,” he jokes, before explaining the real origins of the name. “This area used to be called Olifantshoek, so it’s simply a reference to that part of our history. Those elephants were the real gentle giants of the valley.”
As the remains of the T-bones get packaged up into real doggie bags for farm hounds, the artfully plated dessert appears.
“This is featured on the menu at French Connection… it’s a classic tarte tatin done up with pears,” explains Matthew. “The gingerbread parfait is nice and spicy, so it picks up the fruit very well.”
Served with a glass of Ratafia – a fortified chardonnay from the Cabriere estate – the honey-coloured wine marries beautifully with the rich caramelised pears.
As plates are eaten clean, I learn that Ratafia was originally created “to honour courage”. A fitting drink then, perhaps, for this restless chef and entrepreneur. With three restaurants under his belt, each requiring a healthy dose of courage, it seems Matthew Gordon may have a bit of Ramsay in him after all.
First published in Food&HOme Entertaining; November 2010 |
Thu 09 Dec 2010 |
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Chef's Kitchen: Louise Gillett |
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If you ever need evidence of the changing of the seasons, all you need do is spend a little time on the road to Bo Hermon.
It’s not far from the vineyards and boutiques of Riebeeck Kasteel, and barely 80 minutes from the frenzied streets of Cape Town, but here, on this short strip of gravel, the fields mark the passage of time.
In summer, plumes of dust billow in the rear-view mirror as I zip along the brown gravel road that blends seamlessly into the fallow wheat fields. Come autumn, the first green shoots push their tips through the loamy soil and farmers ready themselves for lambing season.
Winter sees waving fields of green, and snow-capped mountains; chimney smoke rising from labourers’ cottages and bright fields of happy canola. It’s impossible to be in a bad mood when driving through fields of canola, don’t you think? And then Spring, when the smell of warming earth rises up into your nostrils and the farm animals, human and otherwise, seem to shake themselves off and turn their faces to the long-lost sun.
These farm fields are a large part of the inspiration for Louise Gillett, Executive Chef of Bartholomeus Klip; the beautifully restored Victorian guesthouse hidden away on the fringes of Elandsberg Farms.
It’s here that my car crunches to a halt on the gravel drive and a vintage silver tray of tea and home-baked chocolate biscuits (did she know they were my favourite?) magically appears as we sit down on the wide stoep of the house.
“We always change our menu with the seasons,” says Louise, soaking up the weak winter sun that filters through the oak branches. “So in summer it’s a lighter menu and in winter we offer a hearty four-course dinner as people are more likely to want to stay warm indoors.
“We have a small herb garden down the bottom of the garden for things like fresh basil, gooseberries and strawberries. In spring we have lettuce, but by summer it simply gets too hot out here. Whatever is ripe in the garden then ends up on the evening’s menu.”
With the fertile Riebeeck valley as her supermarket, Louise says she “buys everything locally, from producers and suppliers right on our doorstep,” so we set off to visit two of her local favourites.
First up is Wayne Rademeyer, who swopped his high-stress job as an advocate for a herd of Indian water buffalo and a small cheesery in the pastures alongside the R44. The small milking shed at Buffalo Ridge has been kitted out with heavy-duty stalls to handle the heavy beasts, but otherwise it’s a delicate hand-made operation.
“We don’t pump the milk as it breaks down the fats and affects the delicate flavour. All of our buffalo are pasture-fed, and you really can taste the difference,” says Wayne.
Louise nods in agreement, cutting another chunk from the small ball of beautifully elastic cheese. “And we don’t salt our cheese,” explains Wayne, adding that the cheese absorbs enough salts from the brine that’s made to his own secret recipe.
“I change my mind every day
It’s a family-run labour of love, not unlike Bartholomeus Klip, where Louise’s identical twin sister Lesley manages the guesthouse. “We each have our strengths. Although I’m the oldest by two minutes, she’s definitely the organiser who will take charge. I’m not an angry chef, but when it’s busy she knows to stay out of the kitchen!”
Family ties run deep in the Swartland, and nowhere more so than at Deli-Co on the outskirts of Riebeek Kasteel. With its baskets of biltong and fridges of meat, it looks like any other city butchery, except that outside the front doors are rolling pastures bright green and lush after good winter rains.
“The Truter family have been farming here for 120 years,” says Louise as we wander up the steps. “It’s important to know where your food is coming from, and to know the people you buy from. The Truter family lamb is all free-range, and I only use grass-fed beef from their animals on this farm. Ethically, I think grass-fed is the right thing to do, and it also just tastes better!”
It seems simple enough, but it’s a philosophy that seems second nature to the unassuming Louise; a simple belief that you can’t go too far wrong by doing the right things for the right reasons.
“I want to buy local, and our guests like to know that we’re buying local. Our eggs are local and we buy our guavas from the farmer down the road. So now I know where my produce is coming from; and I know I’m supporting him, his farm and his workers. I feel good about buying from him.”
Stuck away on a country farm, being creative in the kitchen must be difficult, I suggest, and wonder how she manages to find inspiration to keep hungry guests well-fed day in and day out.
“I change my mind every day, and I only cook things that I would like to eat. I’m not going to cook something just because it has a fancy name or preparation. That’s not why I cook.
“You know, I’ve eaten at The Fat Duck and from the first mouthful it was certainly an experience, but it wasn’t food. It’s nice to see it, but it’s not the kind of food I want to make for guests. I prefer wholesome, no-frills food.
“There’s a bit of everything on the menu. There’s a strong French influence in the way the dishes are prepared, but there’s also a lot of Italian inspiration, as my Mom is Italian. My grandmother was also a very good cook and she left folders full of vintage recipes that I’ve been playing with and making my own. I suppose I just cook food that I like.
“I also take inspiration from other chefs. My favourite chefs are Gordon Ramsay, and Michael Broughton from Terroir in Stellenbosch. He is right up there with the best chefs in the country. He’s so creative and takes South African food to another level. I aspire to be like him.”
A well-thumbed collection of cookbooks also provide fresh ideas for the fresh produce that lands up in Louise’s kitchen, where the emphasis is on allowing the ingredients to speak for themselves.
“I think Gordon Ramsay’s books are great for both the novice and the professional. He takes fresh ingredients and makes that the focus of the dish. It’s not about turning it into foam or anything; it’s about the quality of ingredients. Locally, I also love Judy Badenhorst. She has such a passion for food; she’s really an inspiration.”
Although she calls cooking dinner “the most rewarding part of my day,” it’s Bartholomeus Klip’s legendary High Tea that is being laid out as I wander to my car. Is this something of a ‘lost meal’, I ask her?
“Absolutely,” says Louise. “Tea is something to look forward to at the end of the day. And besides, there’s nothing better than a fresh scone with strawberry jam… that’ll make anyone feel welcome!
I’ve had my welcomes, but it’s a warm country farewell that sends me back along the road to Cape Town, passing through the acres of yellowing wheat. We may have lost the turning of seasons in the city, but in the peaceful fields surrounding Bartholomeus Klip the passage of time is written in the furrows. And in the dishes on Louise’s table.
First published in Food&Home Entertaining magazine |
Thu 02 Dec 2010 |
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On Course: Sense of Taste |
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I have a friend. Let’s call him Simon.
Simon is a flesh-and-blood Bob the Builder. Unlike me, he can assemble and repair almost anything. Give him a toolbox and he’ll make a plan. However, his domain stops at the kitchen door. In our friendship I’m the guy baking bread while he’s outside wiring the front light. Think Justin Bonello and Reuben the Screwman.
So with the prospect of a tattooed chef and Windhoek on tap, there were few better ways to convince him to hang up his tool belt and tie on an apron than a course in the Sense of Taste kitchens.
Chef Peter Ayub and his Sense of Taste kitchen crew are used to catering high-end events, and the emphasis on course is firmly on creating dishes that look good and taste better, without sweating the small stuff. Good ingredients and straightforward techniques are the secret to cooking up a storm in the Ayub kitchen… a perfect way to turn my DIY biddy into a kitchen demon.
“Cooking is really just common sense, and I want to help make people less scared of their food,” says Peter, as a whole chicken (free range, from Elgin poultry) appears at our workstations on the first evening. Turning a chicken into chicken pieces is certainly a good way to get up close and personal with your dinner!
And this is one of the major selling points of the Sense of Taste course. Each student has their own workstation, Global chef’s knife, chopping board and ingredients, so you are able to get hands on with each and every dish. There’s no standing around watching the overzealous classmate who grabbed the knife first. The kitchen is used to churning out food for hundreds of guests, so there’s plenty of elbowroom for the 20 or so students on each course.
Three or four dishes are prepared each evening, from Pan-Fried Calamari (made from scratch, including cleaning your squid) to a perfect Puttanesca Sauce. There’s no tinkering with foams and emulsions… it’s about getting the basics right, and adding a bit of polish to trusted favourites. They are meals you can happily recreate at home without wondering how on earth it looked so much better back in class.
And it’s a course that seems to appeal to foodies from across the culinary spectrum – our group included everyone from small-restaurant owners looking for new ideas, to newbie chefs like Simon learning the difference between a roux and a ragout.
For those with a little bit of kitchen time behind them it’s also a great course for learning the reasons why we cook the way we do. Why you dry fry Arborio rice (to crack the husk), add oil to butter in a skillet (it raises the frying temperature), and first bring milk to the boil when making a béchamel (the best way to avoid lumps).
Course notes are only sent out at the end of the course – “I want you to watch, not read along,” explains Peter – so if you’re the forgetful type a notebook in the apron is handy for scribbling down the cheffing tips that come flying out thick and fast.
Peter is quick-witted and entertaining, and the clock whizzes around far too quickly each Tuesday evening. Between demonstration and do-it-yourself, the music gets turned up and glasses are refilled. The kitchen fills with the sound of chatter and chopping, while skillets heat up and the shiitakes hit the pan.
All in all, it’s a great evening out that offers reams of useful tips and a generous ladle of enthusiasm that’ll rekindle your appetite for food. It’s an excellent course for newbie chefs and enthusiastic amateurs alike.
The month-long Sense of Taste courses (6.30pm-10pm, Tuesday evenings) cost R2000 per person. This includes four evenings of tuition, as well as all ingredients, equipment and drinks.
www.senseoftaste.co.za
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021 511 0426
First published in Food&Home Entertaining, October 2010 |
The trains, unsurprisingly, are running dead on time as my suitcase clickety-clacks across Platform 3 of Frankfurt Flughafen Regionalbahnhof. Carriages headed into the city are packed with white-collar workers, off to their gleaming tower blocks in Germany’s financial capital to try and save the Euro.
I, on the hand, have more important things to take care of. Like Riesling. And Spätburgunder. Now I don’t normally choose nuns as drinking partners, but for the sisters of Abbey St. Hildegaard I’ll make an exception.
Germany in autumn is famous for Munich’s beery Oktoberfest – the biggest wedding knees-up of all time – but it’s the quaint village of Rüdesheim on the banks of the Rhine where my train screeches to a halt. Just 70 minutes from Frankfurt, and a few millennia back in time.
Tourist-friendly Rüdesheim is the Franschhoek of the Rhine Gorge, but unlike the heart of the Cape winelands it was the Romans, not the Huguenots, who brought wine-making to the steep slopes of this valley some two thousand years ago. Today, there are dozens, some say hundreds, of small wineries in town and scraps of vineyard fill every available patch of hillside.
But before I can set off exploring I need to drop my luggage, and in Rüdesheim all roads lead to the cobbled alley of Drosselgaße; a narrow lane lined with shops, restaurants and hotels. Including mine, the delightful family-owned Hotel Lindenwirt.
Lindenwirt’s offbeat wine barrel rooms – bunk beds in 8000-litre wooden casks once used to make Riesling – are a popular option for travellers on a budget, but I opt for a more comfortable room in the original building. Like much of Rüdesheim, the foundations date back centuries, but the building was restored in the 1940s after being destroyed by Allied bombs in World War II.
After lunch in the charming old-school dining room – apronned waiters offer traditional dishes like Wild Boar in Apple Sauce, or local Rudesheimer wurst, under heavy wooden beams and iron chandeliers – I wrap up against the spring chill and wander off up the hill. I have an appointment with those nuns.
The Benedictine Abbey of St. Hildegaard – home to 55 nuns aged from 25 to 94 – dates back to the 12th century and, although the current buildings were only completed in 1907, in many ways not much has changed. Daily prayers are still sung in Latin in the beautifully frescoed chapel, stern-looking sisters deal with visitors, and the hillside vineyards are a hive of activity.
The young nun guarding the wine-tasting booth insists I try each of their nine or 10 varietals of Riesling and Spätburgunder, so by the time I meander back down the hill I’m aglow with their holy spirit.
Back in the village, the market square is quiet, but on Saturday mornings and in the weeks before Christmas it comes alive with market stalls selling crafts, food and local wine. Dominating one corner, the serene St. Jakobus Catholic Church was built over 600 years ago and was a stop for the faithful on the Santiago de Compostela pilgrimage that once stretched all the way to Jerusalem.
The market square is a good place to start your wanderings, with interesting diversions in all directions. South leads you to the Rhine, where passing boats ferry passengers and freight all the way from Switzerland to Rotterdam. The Eagle Tower is a perfect piece of Late Gothic architecture, and was once part of the medieval city wall.
Follow another path from the square and a winding alleyway leads you to the Klunkhardshof, perhaps the village’s best example of the picturesque half-timbered style that lends Rüdesheim so much charm. Although similar to the English Tudor, the lower floors of most Rüdesheim dwellings were built of stone to guard against the regular flooding of the Rhine.
Wandering uphill, the pedestrian-friendly Oberstraße is also a popular hangout for tourists, with pavement cafes and popular wine bars spilling out into the street. A vine wreath above the door of a small restaurant beckons me in. Many of the restaurateurs make their own wines, and a quaint tradition still holds in town that when the proprietor has wines to sell a wreath is strung above the doorway.
The impressive Niederwald Monument
A few steps away, a wander through the offbeat collection of musical miscellany at Siegfried’s Mechanisches Musiekkabinett is worth it for the novel carillons and music boxes, but the main attraction of Oberstraße is the cable car up to the dramatic Niederwald Monument.
Towering above the village, this impressive bronze statue commemorates the unification of Germany in 1871. Despite its imposing size, the intricacy of sculpture is outstanding and it’s well worth finding a bench to appreciate the fine metalwork found across the 38-metre statue.
The monument also offers wonderful views out across the Rhine, and below me the Riesling vineyards tumble down towards the river. Riesling rules around here, but the region is also becoming famous for its Spätburgunder, known in South Africa as Pinot Noir. The tiny hamlet of Assmansshausen, a few kilometers upriver, makes the best red in the area and a pleasant walk through the forest makes a good break from the crowded cobbled streets.
I wander through the forest of beech, cherry and oak trees in the footsteps of Johann Goethe, Germany’s iconic poet, and the composer Johannes Brahms; both regular visitors to this corner of the Rhine. The woodland is also home to wild boar, deer and fox, but today it’s only the Spotted Blackbird that flits through the trees. Sadly, the hermit who once lived on a lookout here has long since passed on.
Forty minutes later the path emerges at the chairlift down to Assmansshausen. Cosy cellars and terrace restaurants abound here, and it’s a fine place to stop for lunch and a glass or two of Pinot Noir.
At the town pier, a few steps from the main square, I jump on board one of the regular ferryboats plying the Rhine. Rüdesheim is a short trip upriver, but a day-trip downstream through the Rhine Gorge is not to be missed.
A UNESCO World Heritage Site, the Gorge is home to stunning scenery and centuries of European history. Vineyards cling to the prized south-facing slopes, while medieval castles that once charged lucrative tolls now lie in ruin along the river that flows beneath the famous rock of Loreley.
If you start your day early enough, a hop-on-hop-off ticket allows you to explore the historic towns of Bacharach, Kaub and St. Goarshausen, but if you’re feeling lazy simply get there early to grab a seat along the rails and watch the scenery flow by.
Our boat returns home in the late afternoon and after a quick Rüdesheim coffee – fortified with the local Asbach cognac and topped with cream and chocolate – I swop the river for the rails and head back to Frankfurt.
'Handkäs mit Musik’
The bars around the ornate railway station are filled with locals watching the football, but I venture to the narrow streets of Old Sachsenhausen. The atmospheric bars here are famous for the locally fermented apfelwein, usually enjoyed alongside ‘Handkäs mit Musik’; a pungent yellow cheese served with onions.
The music that wakes me up on Sunday morning is the tolling of the city’s half-dozen church bells, calling the faithful to Mass, and of the city’s many spires the Gothic St. Bartholomew’s Cathedral is the most impressive. Built in 1239, this was where the German kings were crowned for nearly 300 years. Incredibly, while World War II bombs flattened Frankfurt, the tower of the ‘Dom’ survived.
A few steps from St. Bartholomew’s, the cobbled Römer Square is the rebuilt heart of ‘old’ Frankfurt, with an attractive mix of half-timber houses and gabled city halls. The Römerhof comes alive at night, when pavement cafés and biergartens spill out across the cobbles.
Although the city is a financial centre it has also become a hub for art and museums, particularly on the south bank’s ‘Museum mile’. If you’d rather be outdoors, the riverside promenade is just as lovely on a bright summer morning, with cyclists, joggers and lovers out in force.
Art museums, rich architecture, fine wine, opera houses and stunning scenery; as I board my train back to Frankfurt Airport I can’t help thinking that it’s all a far cry from sweaty men in lederhosen chugging back another litre of beer in a hot Oktoberfest tent. Make mine a Spätburgunder any day.
Travel advisory
- Lufthansa flies daily from Johannesburg to Frankfurt year-round, with an additional daily service from Cape Town to Frankfurt during summer. To book, visit www.lufthansa.com or call 0861 842 538
- Plan your visit to Frankfurt and the Rhine Gorge on the German National Tourist Board website: www.germany-tourism.de.
- South African passport holders require a Schengen visa to visit Germany. For information on how to apply, go to www.pretoria.diplo.de.
First published in Garden & Home magazine; October 2010 |
Tue 14 Sep 2010 |
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Cooking course: African Relish |
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“Now, everyone play nicely in our beautiful sandbox,” laughs Vanie Padayachee, the ever-smiling Executive Chef at African Relish in the quaint Karoo village of Prince Albert. After a short session on knife skills our group of a dozen or so wannabe-chefs – recipe books in hand – saunter off to our workstations to dive into the first batch of dishes we’ll be tackling on our ‘Culinary Crusade’ weekend.
 While locals and tourists know this Euro-chic space on Prince Albert’s historic Church Street as one of the finest restaurants in the village, foodies from across the country have been flocking here to take part in what is certainly the heart and soul of African Relish: the recreational cooking classes.
And what a classroom it is. Copper saucepans sway gently on the hanging pot rack where sprigs of rosemary and branches of bay dangle alongside legs of local ham, cured down the road in the Spanish Serrano style. Baskets of veggies, many from the kitchen garden outside the window, wait patiently for their turn on the chopping block.
The space has a relaxed country feel to it, but there’s a touch of style and modernity here too. Sleek workbenches – packed with kitchen gadgets – provide ample elbowroom; a crystal chandelier tinkles gently in front of the wood-oven and enormous Eurogas ranges hiss efficiently along one wall. A sleek coffee machine churns out espressos for guests as they settle in for a day of cooking.
It’s a kitchen that means business, but it’s also a place to play with your food. Vanie’s effervescent energy and passion for all things edible is contagious, and guests are encouraged to ask questions, be creative and get their hands dirty. Which reminds me; you also won’t have to scrub a single saucepan, which makes reaching for a clean pot such a pleasure!
Budding Julia Childs’ can opt to join one of the regular themed weekends that are run throughout the year (ours was co-hosted by legendary local chef and raconteur, Bokkie Botha) or book small group – and even individual – lessons with Vanie.
And it’s an important choice to make.
The themed weekends – which range from Indian cuisine to mastering classic sauces – put the emphasis on the ‘recreational’ in ‘recreational cooking school’, and are best suited to like-minded groups of friends who can dive into the weekend’s recipes together; sharing, laughing and cooking as they go. Included in the package price is accommodation in one of the school’s four beautifully restored Karoo cottages, so there’s ample opportunity to catch up with old friends.
However, the pace can be frenetic at times and if you’re there to master certain dishes or skills you’d do better booking a more focused course with Vanie.
Small group, and even individual, lessons are welcomed and the ever-patient Vanie is only too happy to tailor courses around what you’d like to learn. That said, you’ll still sharpen your skills on the themed weekends as Vanie flits between groups sharing tricks of the trade gleaned from running some of the Cape’s top kitchens.
Regardless of which option you choose it’s a wonderful escape for foodie-minded travellers. Unlike city-based cooking schools, a weekend spent at African Relish is also a much-needed break from lift clubs, to-do lists and DIY chores, that allows you to focus on the important things in life... like friends, and food.
For as the blackboard on the pavement outside African Relish so rightly reminds me on my way home: “One cannot think well, love well and sleep well, if one has not dined well.”
Visit www.africanrelish.co.za or call 023 541 1381. Themed weekends R3500pp, including accommodation and meals. Individual/small group rates on request. Prince Albert is about four hours’ drive from Cape Town, off the N1.
First published in Food&Home Entertaining magazine, September 2010
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