Secret Society.

I will admit that sometimes I’m a bit envious of wannabe somewhat famous people/blogger for being invited to events which serve free champagne and macaroons. Usually I’m not. I prefer to buy my own drinks and treats and enjoy the freedom of not having to feign excitement over a not so exciting goodie bag. Or having to write about an evening even when it didn’t surpass a re-run of Friends on the entertainment scale. I realized a while ago that in these cases, working an event with easy access to the bar stock can be way more fun than receiving a personalized invitation which will only soothe my ego.

Last Saturday I wouldn’t have minded being an official guest, but attending in the function of mingler, decorator, baby-sitter, food pre-taster, hug giver, and enthusiastic noise maker while eating the food was much better…
My wonderful, talented cousin Thekla was asked to cook for one of the Spier Secret Festival dinners. Her parents own one of the original houses on Dorp Street in Stellenbosch, which they currently rent to Rheta Erichsen, who was hosting the secret dinner. The house itself is magical. It is full of nooks and crannies filled with memorabilia and stories of generations. The centre has always been the kitchen with various family members and selected friends cooking, tasting, exploring, eating, and sharing. It seemed almost logical that such a house would make the perfect stage for a special secret dinner and that Thekla, daughter of the house, should cook, sharing family traditions and even some secrets from this kitchen.

I had won tickets for the Toffie market so Adam, Thekla’s husband, and I started the day by drinking our way through some barrels of Chenin while chatting to old and new friends. We also stuffed our faces with everything there was from dumplings to Eton Mess and smoked cheese braai broodjies, so it was actually surprising I was still able to eat anything at all in the evening, not to mention the amounts.
In the afternoon we made our way over to the house where we were put to work and art&crafts was mixed with bubbly and posset tasting. From there I went on to baby and cat sitting while decorating the garden. While the house is reminds of the wardrobe of Narnia, the garden is as if Alice in Wonderland has sprung to life and the cat perfects it as it looks like the Cheshire cat sans grin. The property is small, but there are paths and a fountain and a pond, tables in different corners, a swing, and a platform which used to host my aunt’s summer bed, but was now converted to a stage for the musicians. That’s right – we had our own private band! Rheta had already decked the trees with lights and I was allowed to add pincushion proteas to the tables and work on perfecting the welcome cocktail.
That was all well and good and a fun way to spend an afternoon, but now I want to rave about the main part: the food. I learned through various historic novels that back in a day when a noble person was holding a banquette they not only served several courses, but each course consisted of several dishes. That’s how I imagine what it would be like if you were to eat at El Bulli every night and that’s what we got on Saturday, but without any explosions or test tubes. Thekla’s whole approach to food is simple and she cooks with an almost off-handed ease. Her menu was based on local, seasonal ingredients and childhood memories of cooking in her mother’s kitchen.

Summer was in the air with the first mozzies and rugby fans roaring over the walls when guests started to pour in. Each host was allowed to pick the amount of people they could cater for, but somehow Rheta was assigned everybody who was left and so we ended up with an eclectic group of almost 30 people and so everything was served buffet style.
We started with a variety of dips, crudité, and pot baked bread which revived the meaning of ‘breaking bread’ and was a nice touch to add for a group of people who didn’t know each other. If you think I got in by nepotism, you are right; if you think I’m biased, you are probably right too, but still…the dips already won over the toughest food critics amongst the guests and it only got better from there. The main starters were a raw Asian salmon trout salad and a plate of artichokes, which led to lots of laughter when Thekla was explaining how we needed to eat them as it involved lots of sucking and licking. And before you accuse me of a dirty mind and because some guests didn’t understand the subtle difference: you suck the leaves and then you lick your fingers and not the other way around.
For the mains we were snaking around the kitchen island and had the opportunity to make new friends over duck and lamb, both falling of their respective bones, rice pilaf with roasted vegetables, and mozzarella with peaches on greens. With smacking lips people went back for seconds only to be told that there was going to be not one, not two, but three deserts, which still required space. And so we also queued for hazelnut apple cake with koeksister ice cream, rice pudding with berry compote, and refreshing Mrs Moxon’s Posset.

After desert I decided it was time for a nap. So holding my full belly I quietly snuck out and made my way home. When I went to bed I dreamed of meals fit for a king and when I woke up I thanked the gods that I can call such a cook family and just invite myself for dinner whenever I need to feel like a queen for a day.

p.s. If you do wonder where the pictures of the food are, which will make you lick your screen, you will need to ask the master of the kitchen herself as my camera refuse to work after dark.

Thekla shot by Walter Koeppe.

Secret inspiration.

A somewhat happy Monday to everybody!

 I mean as happy as a Monday can get. The quotation mark was purely inspirational. I’m trying to make the Monday sort of okay by reading a bunch of inspirational quotes – I know, what am I thinking? – and it seems to be working. If found some that I really like on Laws of Modern Man via Miss Emma Jude and realized that though I’m obviously not a man, most of them still apply. For obvious travel agent of doom reasons this is the one that has stuck most:

So, thank you Mr. Robert Brault from Connecticut! I think those words of yours are very wise and I’m working hard to make them true for me.

On a completely unrelated note and inspired not by a quote, but by all the secret suppers popping up like there is no tomorrow, I have written a secret story. If you read it, you will understand why it’s secret. Limited edition only and never to be published, email me if you want it: anysroad at gmail dot com.

The wardrobe in the rabbit hole.

When I woke up this morning I was wondering whether I even washed my face last night and if I did, how I managed. The last thing I remember before falling asleep was staring at my arm wondering why it wouldn’t glow in the dark anymore. Not that it ever did, but glow in the dark paint and blacklight paint are easily mixed up and I had forgotten that my arm was painted in the latter, which would still require the black light in order to shine.

In case you look puzzled now, I do too and I was there last night!

It was just one of these down-the-rabbit-hole evenings, which I had shamefully few of lately so last night was very overdue and very welcome. Naomi and I had booked Toffie’s secret supper club, which is why I am a bit vague and things are still a bit fuzzy. If I tell too much, they may have to kill me. Or I can’t come back. After all it’s supposed to be secret. But to summarize, here is what happened in no particular order:

1. I had a bag of chips, biltong and sweet popcorn and was overly excited to get a pickle as well. So excited in fact that Naomi offered me hers too. Mind you, I could just buy myself a jar, so I think it must have been the bag – it looked like pot kos.
2. We drank wine out of a ceramic pot, which was half abstract pig, half elephant. I was quite fascinated by the thing which is why I even mention it as it was quite ugly and utterly cool at the same time. I will try to draw it.

Free hand in paint and it actually has a resemblance. I'm impressed with myself.

3. Then we drank vodka and quince which was odd, but very yummy.
4. We spoke about Avatar. A lot. Here is my explanation as to why:

Yes, it might be upside down and yes, I do suck at taking pictures in the dark. I know, I know...

5. This is the second time I went into a place that felt like I walked in the wardrobe to Narnia and got stuck in the wardrobe. I wish I would have taken more pictures, but as usual my camera died after a few and I also didn’t want to get caught taking pictures. It seemed like an uncool thing to do and again I was a bit scared as picture taking could be interpreted as leaking The Secret. So here is just the one, which I quickly snuck:

Even with a clear head I am not quite sure what I took a picture of here, but either way I like it.

6. I may ask them to send me a picture of the rhinestone embroidered pair of boxing shorts. They would have made a worthwhile shot.

7. I also want to have curtains with birds, china with pink roses and wallpaper with little cars on it. Maybe not cars actually.

8. I did take the serviette/dishcloth and no, I’m not actually sure I was allowed to.

9. We made new friends who celebrate Christmas in July. That appealed to me since Christmas here always feels like Christmas in July to me.

To sum it up: the way I feel today was worth it for sure, though now I am really terrified of the V&A shopping part on my to-do list. Unfortunately I don’t have a choice as hell has no fury like an eight year old who didn’t get a present from his African auntie...