Eating is Believing

Today we had lunch with Aysa Safal. The person who changed our lives. The woman who made all of this possible. Many moons ago she made Mauritz walk into the ocean and willed him out of the west coast waters with a lobster in one hand. Our honeymoon. She also made him pack  a whisk, an egg and a small bottle of olive oil in the camping gear. She was the one that spurred us on till we had that perfect mayonnaise.  And she must have watched and winced at our lack of decent clothing.  Today we wanted to remember her smells, her influence, her love. We wanted to celebrate the huge impact she had on Mauritz's tastebuds. She is the one that made sure that I stay out of the kitchen. Also that both our children show a keen interest in being curious about food.  Our family wanted to give thanks to her open hands, her life, her dedication to food and her kindness. And the only way to do this, was to have a kind of  wedding . A big celebratory Cape Malay wedding under the ...

Before: The guest and the guest  Today we invited a book to eat with us, but also another real life guest. A twin. A sister that I met on the steps at Wits while learning Portuguese. She has always been on a wild horse, showing the way. She has no fear. Her whole world is filled with love. Welcome Yolande !    A picture of Tita, our heroine. Pic from Aminoapps.com The re-read: 2 weeks ago PASSION The only thing I remember of  Like water for chocolate , is passion. I was in my early twenties when I read it for the first time, and Tita was cooking her desire for Pedro into some quails using the roses he gave her earlier that day. Pedro smouldered at the dinner table, but nothing compared to Gertrudis, Tita's sister. Darling Gertrudis was so overcome with this meal, and what was cooked into it, that she had to have a shower, see. She was steaming! So badly that the wooden outhouse shower set on fire, Gertrudis ran from it, naked and simmering, into the arms of Juan...

Somebody being chased by a wolf. Ominous clouds. Dread, doom and damnation. That is what I think when I hear violin music. So when Helen invited the Finnish Pekka Kuusisto and his goddamned violin to her dinner table, my heart started racing with fear. An evening of violin music to a rock and roller was far worse than being chased by a wolf.  This Finnish hotel was found on Pinterest  And because of that I didn’t start my research with Pekka, our man of the day. I chose a Sunday afternoon and made the family sit in front of the TV screen, and started searching video clips on Life and Food in Finland . Within an hour we all wanted to go and live there, at least for the summer. And maybe a bit of winter, so that we could lie in saunas and then run into the freezing cold and dip into a perfect little hole made into the ice.    We watched clips on people roaming through forests to find the freshest ingredients, we toured Finnish Art Museums. We watched the real Santa Cl...

This blog is about 5 friends, their offspring and their dogs. It’s about getting together, laughter, cooking and wine. It’s about seeing faces. But mostly it’s about inviting an imaginary guest to our table. This guest then sets the mood for the day. Today I have invited Carlos Ruiz Zafón to our  table and in doing so we travelled to Barcelona, Spain.  I fall in love easily. Especially with writers. And falling in love with Carlos Ruiz Zafón was no exception. From the moment I imagined his hand moving over paper and creating The Cemetery of Forgotten Books , I loved him. Deeply. I had a black and white pic of him framed and hung it on my wall. I got to know Carlos Ruiz Zafón through my friend Naomi who gave me his first book in the series a couple of years ago. I read The Shadow of the Wind  without looking up once. I know many think it’s the best book ever written, and normally I wouldn’t be one of the masses, but with  The Shadow of the Wind , it felt as if I ...