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
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