Personal Essays · The Curious Cook

In remembrance of lost tastes

Name just one other thing in this world that is as evocative as food. I tend to voraciously devour almost any book I can find and spend far too many hours watching films; but nothing, absolutely nothing is as immediate, all-encompassing and deeply fundamental as the memories that can be unlocked in just one bite.

The wonderful American writer, director and die-hard foodie Nora Ephron had a special way of writing about food in the context of a rich, full, complex life. In her famous bittersweet collection of essays I Feel Bad about My Neck (2006) she included an op-ed piece she wrote for the New York Times about the regret of not eating more of a particular food that ended up vanishing out of her life. In “The Lost Strudel or Strudel le Perdu” she elaborates thus:

“Food vanishes. I don’t mean food as love, food as habit, food as memory, food as biography, food as metaphor, food as regret, or food as in those famous madeleines people like me are constantly referring to as if they’ve read Proust, which in most cases they haven’t. I mean food as food. Food vanishes.”

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Personal Essays

Wearing my heart on my sleeve – my life (so far) through what I wore

Like all magical stories, it all started with a treasure chest. When I was very small, 5 or 6 I think, my father made a little wooden chest for me carved out with my initials ‘AKO’ highlighted in black lacquer on the lid. I kept it at the foot of my little pink wooden bed, stuffed full of bits and bobs for playing dressing-up. A special favourite was this silver tulle dress which transformed me into an enchantress. Here is a photo of me posing around in it while my friends Kathy and Reinette wait for me to get on with it!

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Personal Essays · The Curious Cook

A movable feast

 

In January this year we went on a road trip, crossing the Western Cape through the Karoo to the hinterland of the Eastern Cape. After fulfilling the usual family obligations, we headed for our favourite destination – Graaff-Reinet.

It is here that we feel most at home, relishing in the absolute peace of the Karoo. The weather always seems to be perfect at any time of the year, with the loveliest long, drawn-out magical evenings. The sun takes its time to set, dipping below the mountain, painting the clouds gold or pink before giving way to a long deep cobalt blue twilight that seems to last forever. And in Spring the swallows and swifts arrive, gliding and dipping above the spires of the glorious cypress trees in the gathering dusk.

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Personal Essays

Road trip turns treasure hunt

My ideal road trip vehicle is this classic Borgwood Isabella in delectable red dating from the 1950s. Here’s me on the way to the post office, snapping myself standing next to it! Coincidentally I am wearing a red gabardine coat from the same era.

What is better than heading off down the unbeaten track, winding down the window and taking a deep breath of fresh air, mingled with traces of dust or the smells of the veld? When my partner J and I go on a road trip we love to seek out all the interesting little towns and villages and keep everything really relaxed and open ended.

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Journalism · Personal Essays

Vasgevang in glas

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PANNEKOEK VIR JAN & JORIE

Gepubliseer in Vrye Weekblad http://www.vryeweekblad.com in Oktober 2019

As ek dink aan oranje, dink ek aan my oranje-blanje-blou kinderdae. Die bloem van ’n lemoen. Sonsondergange en die bruin-oranje gesigte van sonneblomme.

As ek dink aan nartjies dink ek aan hoe die olie van die skil jou vingers taai maak en soms laat brand. En Jan Rabie se fel-oranje T-hemp met DJ Opperman se magiese woorde: “My nooi is in ’n nartjie” in wit hoofletters voorop en, soos hy omdraai: “My ouma in kaneel” oor die vleuel van sy skouers.

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