Molo: Explore Cape Town's food stories by Cape Town Partnership

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September/OCTOBER 2013

A PROJECT OF THE CAPE TOWN PARTNERSHIP Molo | Hello | Goeiedag

What does home taste like? Families share their most cherished food memories PAGE 6 & 7

Meet Fred the lettuce Follow one lettuce from soil to salad PAGE 5

Shop for pavement specials Molo goes in search of the tastes of the street PAGE 2 & 3

EXPLORE Cape Town’s Food stories Our city’s food systems: where does our food come from? PAGE 4 & 5

Taste map: a journey of the senses down Sir Lowry Road PAGE 8

The story of the Service Dining Rooms 75 years of 5c meals for Cape Town’s citizens PAGE 10 & 11

www.capetownpartnership.co.za

MOLO September/OCTOBER 2013

WELCOME

WHY Molo?

Molo. Hello. Goeiedag. Molo is a free community paper, focused on the people of the Cape Town, and published by the Cape Town Partnership.

Molo. Hello. Goeiedag. Welcome to the first edition of Molo – a new free community paper, focused on the people of Cape Town and published by the Cape Town Partnership. Through it, we hope to connect: with you and with the diversity of people who make up this great city.

Created by: Alma Viviers, Ambre Nicolson, Judith Browne, Lesley Hay-Whitton, Lisa Burnell, Sam Bainbridge

Designed by: Infestation T: 021 461 8601 www.infestation.co.za Published by: Cape Town Partnership 34 Bree Street T: 021 419 1881

How can I be a part of Molo? We are always on the look-out for compelling stories told by ordinary residents of Cape Town. If you or someone you know has an interesting story to tell, mail us at molo@capetownpartnership.co.za (no press releases, please). Every month, we’ll be continuing the conversations we start in the print edition of Molo online: Join us at www.capetownpartnership.co.za for more stories, more profiles and more citizen perspectives on this place we call home.

Where can I get the most recent edition of Molo? Molo is a bimonthly print publication, available in the January, March, May, July, September and November of every year (starting in September 2013). In the months it is not on street, it is supplemented by stories online. If you or your organisation would like to receive or distribute the print publication, please mail us at molo@capetownpartnership.co.za, including your postal address and the number of copies you’d like to receive.

Contact the creators of Molo:

@CTPartnership #Molo

Email: molo@capetownpartnership.co.za

ou might remember that, as the Cape Town Partnership, we used to co-publish a popular community paper, City Views, with the Central City Improvement District (CCID) – one of South Africa’s first and most successful business improvement districts, of which we are the managing agent. If you are or were a regular reader, you might know that, as of August this year, City Views changed. It is now an entirely CCID-focused publication, looking predominantly at servicing the needs of the CCID constituency. What happens to all the human interest stories, unusual maps and place profiles the Cape Town Partnership used to publish, drawn from a broader city geography? Molo is our answer, and the beginning of what we hope is a much bigger conversation, with you, our

reader, and with the people of Cape Town.

A celebration of humanity Cape Town Partnership’s mandate is to manage, develop and promote our city, specifically the Table Bay district of Cape Town – which includes Table Mountain, the Atlantic Seaboard, the City Bowl, central business district, Woodstock, Salt River, Observatory, Paarden Eiland, Langa, Maitland and Kensington – in a way that has a positive impact and influence on the whole metropole. While our work is in and of the city, our real focus is people – on doing what we can to ensure the city is a place where people, no matter who they are or where they’re from, can flourish. Molo is our way of building social bridges and creating connections between the people of Cape Town, espe-

cially where there were none before, given divisions of geography, history and economic inequality. It’s our way of celebrating the people who are contributing to positive social change in this diverse metropolis, despite the challenges they face. If it’s people, and the connections between them, who give our city soul, it’s through Molo that we’re hoping to enhance that soul.

A celebration of food For every edition of Molo, we will be focusing on something seemingly ordinary – language, music, rites of passage – that shows how extraordinarily diverse we are as a city and as a people. For this first edition, we’ve chosen food as our focus. Inside, expect to be taken on a taste tour

of Sir Lowry Road, find out more about how food lands on your plate (and from where), hear from individual Capetonians (and their families) about what home tastes like, or (my favourite story) go on a journey with Fred the Lettuce, as he makes his way from soil to salad. So once again, welcome to Molo, Cape Town’s newest community paper. We hope it speaks to you and that you will be inspired to create it with us. Bulelwa Makalima-Ngewana CEO, Cape Town Partnership n Look out for the next edition of Molo in November 2013 n We’ll be continuing the conversations we start in the print edition of Molo online. For more stories, visit us at www.capetownpartnership.co.za

Q&A

Tel: 021 419 1881 www.facebook.com/molocapetown

About two years.

imported from Nigeria. I also find some of the ingredients like okra at Indian stores.

What sort of food do you serve?

How much is the average meal?

How long have you been trading here?

Molo, Cape Town Partnership, 10th Floor, 34 Bree Street, The Terraces, 8001

Cape Town Partnership vision

I serve traditional Nigerian food. Soups like egusi, ogbono and okra with pap. Egusi is a traditional Nigerian dish that is made from powdered melon seed combined with meat, vegetables, dried fish and powdered crayfish. The ingredients make a tasty soup that you eat with pap.

Some say cities are the future We say people are the future This is our home This is our hope This is our chance

Believing

there is more that connects us than divides us

Speaking

the language of hope

Working

Where did you learn to cook?

Building

I learnt these recipes from my mother and my grandmother. If you are not a good cook you don’t find a good husband.

together for the common good

from the ground up

Sharing

the spaces in between We can plant our tomorrows shape our future, heal ourselves We can make our city warm, open, welcoming, rich in opportunities for all

Cape Town A city with a past. A people with a future

A taste of Nigeria

Gertrude Chukwu

Where do you source ingredients? The meats and vegetables I buy locally but some of the special ingredients like the egusi and ogbono seeds are

You can get a half-portion for R25 or a full portion from R30.

What would you like to change to make life as a street trader easier? It would be nice to have refrigeration facilities nearby to keep things fresh.

What is your vision for your business? Being a street trader means business depends on the weather. If you have a more formal restaurant you don’t have to worry so much. I would like to grow my business; perhaps go into a partnership to start a restaurant or to cater for functions. n African Food Court, Corner of Castle and Lower Plein streets, Grand Parade

IN SHORT

COLUMN

From the Karoo to Kanaladorp

Photo supplied: CRAIG FRASER

Sydda Essop

Sydda Essop is the author of the highly acclaimed Karoo Kitchen: Heritage Recipes and True Stories from the Heart of South Africa (2012), a book of traditional recipes and veld remedies illustrating the diverse culinary arts of the people of the Great Karoo. Here she reflects on her own family’s food heritage.

ood played a big role in our family. During the 1950s and 60s we lived with my grandparents in the Karoo at an old colonial home with a huge Voortrekker kitchen and a black coal stove. My grandmother and mother, both from India, were businesswomen, so they employed two indigenous women in the kitchen to cook for us. They made the most incredible Indian food, to which my grandmother introduced Afrikaner, English and indigenous elements. During the early 60s, my parents occasionally loaded their Black Chevy Powerglide and off we drove to Cape Town to visit my mom’s aunt and uncle – Nani and Nana. Nani, a stout woman with Irish, Indian and Indonesian blood in her veins and grey streaks in her hair, lived in Reform Street, District Six in an old, rambling two-storey building. On the ground floor was their banana

Legwork in Langa The streets of Langa offer up a fast-food feast from informal vendors dotted around the neighbourhood.

wholesalers. On the top floor were apartments where several families lived: I guess you could say that Nani’s family were living out the values of Kanaladorp, an old name for District Six. Memories of those times evoke the pungent mix of Nani’s snoek roe curry, the musty banana store and the stench of horse manure on the cobbled streets. District Six was a contentious issue at the time, considered a slum by authorities. For us children it was a melting pot of cultures with a unique lingua franca, a place of celebration in spite of the looming clouds of forced removals. Nana was known for his incredible biryani at community weddings, while Nani could so often be found next to her huge, black coal stove, cooking up a storm, praying silently on her tasbih. She introduced me to a variety of dishes: soldaatjies onder die kombers (meatballs rolled in cabbage leaves); snoek

roe curry with kitka (Jewish plaited bread); a great variety of stews and fried sheep brain with scrambled eggs for breakfast. She salted fresh snoek, hung it up to dry and then baked it in the oven with an array of spices. I can still remember her listening to Jim Reeves’ lamenting – “the world is not my home, I’m just a-passing through and I can’t feel at home in this world anymore” – her eyes moist with tears. It was only years later, when I was paying tribute to the cooks of the Great Karoo in my book, that I realised how much the cooks of District Six unknowingly contributed to Great Karoo and South African cuisine. Food binds us and it is a vehicle that connects us to the rest of Africa. The words of Rabindranath Tagore, Nobel Prize laureate for Literature in 1913, ring true: “Whatever we understand and enjoy in human products instantly becomes ours, wherever they might have their origin.”

AmaGwinya Crispy on the outside, soft and doughy on the inside, just the way perfect vetkoek (amagwinya) should be. Vetkoek is the bestseller at Sozito African Food Restaurant and Take Away, and they make approximately 800 to 900 a day. Vetkoek is often enjoyed with deep-fried Russians. One vetkoek costs R1. n Seven days a week, 07h00–19h00, Lelorothori Avenue

Baristas at large Sebastian Davies and Thomas Gerhardt took Hey Brew to the streets in May 2013. The concept is to provide caffeinecraving commuters with a cup of real coffee while creating job opportunities. The result is a team of trained baristas who serve up freshly brewed coffee on the spot for only R10 – with the help of backpacks containing a percolator system. “As young South Africans we believe we need to be a part of the change. We try wherever possible to empower people who are hardworking, diligent and motivated but who may have been dealt a few rough blows in life. Currently we employ a guy who used to sell the Big Issue magazine and a former refugee,” explains Sebastian. n Grab your coffee on the go along St George’s Mall, 06h30–11h00 n For more information on Hey Brew go to www.heybrewcoffee.com.

Intloko yegusha Also known as a smiley, sheep’s heads (intloko yegusha) are prepared in an open-air informal kitchen. Mabayi Nshika first scorches the hair off over an open fire, then the head is butterflied and cooked in salted water for an hour. You can get a whole head for R50 or a half for R25. n Seven days a week, 09h00–20h00, Rhodes Street, across from Chris Hani School

tshisa nyama The smell of grilling meat will lead you to Soleka Zono’s tshisa nyama outside her house. Here you can buy barbecue pork prepared to your liking, from R12 a piece. n Monday to Friday, 13h00–19h00, Saturday, 10h00–21h00 WZ-Faried, corner of Lerotholi Avenue and Rhodes Street

Amanqina enkukhu You have to be in the know to find Simi Fongoqa’s house, where she sells the best amanqina enkukhu (chicken feet). She uses a blend of turmeric, red chilli, brown spice and Aromat to flavour them. Buy 10 for only R7. n Seven days a week, all day, 46 Bhunga Avenue

Umngqusho at Fuzi’s Restaurant Sample deliciously cooked chicken, which Fuzi Nkibi serves with stywe pap, cabbage and pumpkin. She also makes umngqusho (samp and beans) as well as umleqwa and dombolo (running chicken and dumplings). Meals start at R25. n Seven days a week, 06h00–18h00, Washington Street taxi rank

Parking-lot fare Serving up New York-style grub from the latest mobile restaurant, The Grubbery, are twins Scott and Nick Walker. The brothers were having meal at a local burger joint earlier this year, discussing the growing food truck trend, and thought, “Why not?” The venture combines their respective expertise, with Scott (a graduate from The Fusion Cooking School in Durban) behind the grill and Nick working on the marketing. Regular offerings included pulled pork and Reuben sandwiches, corn dogs and burgers. Prices start at R15. n Look out for a stop near you at www.facebook.com/ GrubberyTruck and Twitter: @GrubberyTruck

MOLO September/OCTOBER 2013

FOOD SYSTEMS

From farm to fork Whether it was a dinner out with friends, Sunday family lunch or a solitary midnight snack, the food that made up your last meal probably travelled from a variety of places to end up on your plate. The question is, how much do you know about its journey to get there? We look into Cape Town’s complex food systems to learn more about the route our food takes, from farm to fork. Photos: Lisa Burnell, Damien Schumann Text: Ambre Nicolson

W The stark difference between purchasing a vacuum-packed braai pack from Woolies and the meat on the street ... evoked culture shock in me. Damien Schumann

e start our journey in green fields that stretch almost as far as the eye can see, hemmed on two sides by purple mountains in the distance. While it might look rural, these fields are just a few kilometres from the bustling streets of the city centre. Carl Görgen’s family has been farming in Philippi for at least three generations. “I believe this is a very special place, not only because it is my family heritage but because its location between two sets of mountains means that it sits atop an aquifer, an underground lake, which is important when growing vegetables that require a lot of water. The fact that such a large volume of vegetables can be grown so close to the city makes Philippi essential to Cape Town.” The Görgen family’s 70 hectares support lettuce, different kinds of cabbage, cauliflower, carrots, spinach, broccoli and, most recently, potatoes. Once harvested, the produce mostly travels directly to major supermarket chains, where it joins other fresh produce in an intricate cold chain that stretches across the country. A smaller portion travels to the Cape Town Market in Epping.

60 000 tons a month

The Cape Town Market can trace its history back to the original market that supplied the ships of the VOC with fresh produce during Cape Town’s infancy. Today it is the only privately owned market in the country, run on a commission system, with agents selling produce on behalf of farmers at prices set by the market itself. Each month a mammoth 60 000 tons of fresh produce passes through its doors. When I visit the cavernous main trading floor at 07h00 on a stormy winter’s morning, much of the stock has already been sold. What remains is being loaded onto forklifts on pallets heaped high with potatoes, onions, tomatoes, cabbages and other vegetables and fruit, before being driven at dizzying

speed around various agents’ allotments. Herman Bonthuys, a barrel-chested man with a big laugh, has been an agent here for over 30 years. This morning he has five different tomato cultivars on offer, from farms as close as Vredenburg and as distant as Mpumalanga, and various other vegetables and fruit. “I sell to all types of people, from major supermarkets to smaller retailers, informal vendors and even individuals. Some of this stuff also ends up at the people’s market outside.” The people’s market, on the perimeter of the main market, allows individuals to buy produce without having to apply for a buyers’ card. Here, according to long-time vendor Ebrahim Singh, people are as likely to buy ten individual tomatoes as ten boxes containing 50 tomatoes each, with much of the produce sold trickling down into townships, as part of the extensive informal trade plied by vendors around Cape Town. If you’ve ever stopped on the street to buy a tomato or two, there’s a good chance it came from here.

What else is on the menu? As diverse as our diets are, so are the routes that food takes into our city. Exotic or out-of-season fruit and vegetables often come from half a planet away, imported at high prices for supermarkets in wealthy areas. The same can also be said for some kinds of meat, with much of the bacon and all the turkey consumed in South Africa being imported. As Jane Battersby, a UCT food academic who has been studying food systems in Cape Town for a number of years, points out: “In the case of higher priced chickens sold in most supermarkets, the chickens are farmed locally by producers like Rainbow Chicken. But, in the case of the budget cuts of chicken or those sold at restaurants serving cheap food, it’s more likely that the chicken comes from abroad, often from Brazil.” Even meat that is largely farmed in South Africa, like beef and mutton, reaches the inhabitants of Cape Town in numerous ways. Most mutton and lamb joins the formal retail supply chain, travelling from farm to abattoir to processing plant to supermarket. Because the cost of such meat is often prohibitively high for township dwellers, there is also an informal route by which meat enters the city. Photographer Damien Schumann became interested in mapping this route after he started questioning the quantity of meat being slaughtered, prepared and sold on the streets in Cape Town’s townships. “The stark difference between purchasing a vacuum-packed braai pack in Woolworths and the meat on the streets being smoked by exhaust fumes evoked culture shock in me. So I decided to investigate the story of meat to expose the health and social challenges that it is a product of and contributor to.” In his project Meat Informally, he documents the journey of sheep from an auction outside Paarl to the Makhaza taxi rank near Khayelitsha.

Are we fat and famished? However food gets to the city, of equal importance is our relationship with it once it arrives. Journalist and author Leonie Joubert claims in her book The Hungry Season that cities are making us fat and sick, because when we move to the city the kind of food we eat changes. In her view, numerous characteristics of the city are leading to more people being simultaneously obese and malnourished. “Firstly, the layout of the city requires motorised transport due to the large distances that need to be covered. This means that people can no longer walk. Secondly, our sedentary lifestyles are further encouraged by the highly mechanised nature of cities and the fact that, even in our free time, much of our recreation involves sitting down. Thirdly, on the cultural level, newly urbanised people are often very keen to leave behind the food of their rural past, seeing it as ‘peasant food’. On the other hand the branded food of the city, fast food, is seen as sophisticated and aspirational. Other factors include the uneven distribution of supermarkets in which healthy food is very much a commodity that only the wealthy can afford, as well as the fact that we have evolved to crave food high in fat and sugar – something that food companies take full advantage of when manufacturing their products. In short, being in the city makes it very easy to make bad food decisions.” Leonie also warns that the fact that food is visible in South African cities does not mean that the urban poor have access to it. “It is poverty which drives access, or the lack thereof, to food and while South Africa is food secure on a national level this is certainly not the case on the household level.” Leonie Joubert’s book is n available from both Exclusive Books and Kalahari

FEATURE

1. Sheep are bought at auctions, then brought to Cape Town where local butchers and restaurateurs buy individual animals on a daily or weekly basis. Here a woman selects which sheep she wants to purchase for the day. 2. Ebrahim Singh has been a vendor at the people’s market outside Cape Town Market in Epping for more than 20 years. Most of his fruit and vegetables are sold to street vendors. 3. The Cape Town Market in Epping sells almost three quarters of a million tons of fresh produce each year, to buyers that include major retail chains, wholesalers, individuals and even off-shore oil rigs. 4. Father and son team Bosman (left) and Herman Bonthuys (right) are one of nine market agents who work at the Cape Town Market in Epping. Herman, who has worked at the market for over 30 years, says he has noticed people’s tastes in fruit and vegetables changing, with the emphasis now being on produce which is quick and convenient to prepare. 5. Shannon Smuts is hoping to show people that eating healthily does not have to be difficult or expensive. According to Shannon: “The menu at Pure Good tastes so good that people don’t even realise how healthy it is, but there’s actually spinach in everything!”

According to his documentary outline, “Sheep are purchased for approximately R900 each, and resold later for approximately R1 500. From [the auction] they are taken to a holding farm on the outskirts of the townships … Every morning from as early as 06h30 informal butchers arrive at the farm to purchase livestock to slaughter, cook and sell that day. Interestingly, a large amount of people coming to purchase the meat were women, pointing towards the amount of households that are being financially supported by women in cities at present … The sheep are taken to the butchers’ home or braai ‘restaurant’ where they are slaughtered in their yards or on the side of the street. Once the carcasses are ready they are placed back in the vehicle and taken to the braai areas.”

Eating for change While most systems that bring food into the city look at maximising efficiency and profit, newly minted restaurateur Shannon Smuts has a food system with a different aim in mind: healthy food, sustainability and social good. After taking a two-month sabbatical from her job when she was chosen as a MasterChef SA contestant last year, and then being eliminated first, Shannon found herself with a passion for healthy, local, organic food and some time on her hands. “I knew I’d have a massive PR opportunity that I could use for something good when the show aired, so I met the NGO Baphumelele’s Fountain of Hope organiser, and we realised that we could build something special and symbiotic as a producer and client. This eventually led to me opening my restaurant, Pure Good, which focuses on healthy

food and uses vegetables grown at the Fountain of Hope farm. I want to focus on a no-waste system so that eventually the farm supplies at least 90% of my vegetables, with all the offcuts from my kitchen being returned to the farm as compost. So far it’s going really well, our biggest problem at present being the lack of a vehicle.” Fountain of Hope project manager Katie Sears hopes the project can produce enough vegetables to feed all the children and patients of Baphumelele, and also provide organic vegetables to partners like Pure Good. “At the same time, we will be training young people who stay at the Fountain of Hope, and children and young people from our child-headed homes projects, to grow their own food. Food security and ensuring at least a basic nutritious diet is so important for these children – making sure they eat properly and remain healthy, but also giving them the security of a reliable food source, so that they can focus on their education or finding a job.” While theirs is still a fledgling creation, and minute compared to the other food systems in operation in our city, it is a good example of a mutually beneficial system, in which the best interest of both the producers and consumers is served.

n Find out more about the Cape Town Market: www.ctmarket.co.za n Visit Pure Good at 21 St Johns Street, Cape Town n Discover more about Damien’s Meat Informally documentary: dspgallery.com/meat-informally

I want to focus on a no-waste system so that eventually the farm supplies at least 90% of my vegetables, with all the offcuts from my kitchen being returned to the farm as compost. Shannon Smuts

MEET Fred the lettuce

Meet Fred the iceberg lettuce. Fred is one of 40 000 heads of lettuce harvested each week on Carl Görgen’s farm in Philippi. The Philippi Horticultural Area accounts for around 80% of the fresh produce consumed in Cape Town.

At the Cape Town Market, Fred (who has been packed into a box with 11 other lettuces) is delivered, with hundreds of boxes of lettuce, to one of nine market agents that sell produce at the market on behalf of farmers.

The Philippi Horticultural Area accounts for around 80% of the fresh produce consumed in Cape Town.

William van Niekerk and Jan Willem Smalberger of Fine Bros, are agents at the market. Says William: “Being an agent means you try and get the best price possible for the farmer while also keeping an eye on supply and demand. I wake up at 02h00 to be here before 05h00 when the market opens.” The market moved to Epping in the 1960s and today supplies over 8 000 registered buyers and 5 500 farmers.

Fred moves across the road from the market to M&R Marketing, wholesalers and distributors of fresh fruit and vegetables. Fred has his outer leaves removed and is individually packed on a polystyrene tray and covered with cling film. Ronnie Sense, one of the workers who oversee this process, confirms that during busy times over 11 000 heads of lettuce are packed each day.

We track Fred down in a fridge in Spar in Sea Point, under M&R’s retail brand, Nutripick. Every day approximately 30 such prepacked heads of lettuce are sold from this outlet, destined for salads and sandwiches around town. Fred usually reaches your plate within a day or two of being harvested, having travelled only 25km from the farm. We now leave Fred to his fate.

MOLO September/OCTOBER 2013

FAMILY memories

Edible love

Taste and smell are powerful reminders of the past. Sometimes all it takes is a whiff of a much-loved family dish to take you back to your childhood. Molo’s Ambre Nicolson listens to four families telling their stories of treasured family recipes and the memories that accompany them. Photos: Lisa Burnell

Ebrahim Camroodien and his grandmother, Shabirah Camroodien

Ebrahim: “My granny got married when she was 17, in her village outside Mumbai in India. She married the son of the neighbouring family – literally the boy next door. By 19 she had had her first child and they had immigrated to South Africa. “At first she and my grandfather lived with his family, and she says that she learnt a lot about cooking techniques and spices from her mother-in-law, but it was the recipes that she had learnt from her own mother as a girl that proved so important to her family. She never wrote any of them down; they are all in her head. “A couple of years after they arrived in Cape Town, they moved to District Six, to a house in Chapel Street. My grandparents started a business selling samoosas and other Indian delicacies in the Golden Acre and around the station. My granny’s samoosas brought in the money to feed her family of ten

children. They weren’t rich but they made do, and my granny was quite famous for her samoosas and other food, like her rotis. “Sadly, they were also the cause of a serious injury when the paraffin stove she was cooking on exploded and burnt her quite badly. She had to undergo many skin grafts to her arms, face and neck. When the family was evicted from their home during the forced removals in District Six, they went to live in Cravenby, where my granny still lives today. My granny has always been someone who feeds everybody; her cook-

My granny has always been someone who feeds everybody; her cooking is edible love. Ebrahim Camroodien

ing is edible love. “As a child, I remember my granny’s house always being open to me; it was a place that I spent lots of time in and I could talk to my granny about anything. You always knew before you got there when my granny was cooking, because the smell of spices would fill the house and halfway up the street too. Sometimes she would make jalebis, orange pastry in syrup; my cousin and I would always get a couple when my granny made them to sell. “I used to pick the vegetables that my grandfather grew in the garden – things like onions and chillis and tomatoes – and I remember eating tomatoes fresh from the vine. My granny would also make me my favourite, falooda, you know the bright-pink drink, like a milkshake but made with cardamom. My gran also puts almonds in it. She still makes it for me often; it’s still my favourite.”

Mother and daughter, Jean and Janita Chan

Jean: “Really, when you look at the flavours of food in my life, it is also the story of my life. I learnt to cook from my mother when I was just a tiny thing; I would stand on a chair to see what she was doing. As a child I was very inquisitive, and not very obedient. “Often I would take the food my mother made – stew and potatoes, which she had learnt from her Irish mother, South African food that she’d picked up from her father’s side of the family in the Eastern Cape, or something Asian that she’d learnt from my father, who was Indonesian – and swap it with my black friends in Kliptown where I grew up, who would often be eating braaied meat with pap and morogo. “When I was young I worked at Fontana Chicken in Hillbrow, which served rotisserie chickens and also European delicatessen

food, cold meats and cheeses. That was good practice for me later when I ran an African eating house. After I married my second husband, who is Cantonese, I ran a series of Chinese restaurants. I had seven children and, when they were growing up, it was hard because we worked long hours in the restaurant. But we had a rule: everyone had to be home for dinner at 17h00, to sit down at the table and have a proper family meal together.” Janita: “When my mom did tuck-shop duty at my younger sister’s school she decided to change the menu because she thought it was unhealthy. Eventually the food was so good that the teachers ordered in bulk to take home for dinner. Little did my mother know that my sister was turning a profit on the side by charging them extra.

My mom encouraged us to be adventurous eaters; we got to try all sorts of stuff – from samp and beans to frogs’ legs and crocodile stir-fry in Singapore. Janita Chan

“Seriously though, the thing I remember about my mom is how she encouraged us to be adventurous eaters; we got to try all sorts of stuff – from samp and beans to frogs’ legs and crocodile stir-fry in Singapore. But we always came back to my mom’s curries and my dad’s amazing Chinese cooking – a family meal was as likely to be a curry as a stir-fry. Food brought us together as a family.”

CONVERSATIONs

Lomawa (Liz) Maelane and her grandmother, Lomawa Dlamini

Liz: “I grew up in Bedfordview in Joburg with my sister and brother. At 16 I became a vegetarian and I have been one ever since. I took to vegetarianism very easily; in fact the only thing I ever craved was biltong, and I soon learnt that a salty olive could sort that out. My mom did a lot of cooking, since she cooked for the guesthouse she ran from our property and for our family. Her oxtail recipe is really exquisite. “My parents eventually came to accept that I was a vegetarian and my mom even invented a recipe for me – a bean stew she made from beans grown on my late grandmother’s farm in Swaziland. In fact, it is from this dish that my vegetarian catering business, Bread and Beans, takes its name. When we were growing up, we would quite often visit my grandmother in Swaziland, but it wasn’t always easy because the local kids would tease us about our accents and call us names. My grandmother’s farm is very beautiful; it’s embedded in the

My grandmother and my mother … taught me what it is to be a lady – someone who is resourceful, never complacent and who knows how to work hard. Lomawa (Liz) Maelane

Beans grown on Liz’s grandmother’s farm

mountains and is surrounded by rolling green hills. I think it must be from my grandmother that I inherit my creative side; she was always making something and she really loved farming. “Today I live here in Cape Town and I am planning to start my own business, after recently giving up my studies in architecture. By next year I hope to have a food truck that serves fast, affordable vegetarian food. That way I’ll be able to travel to markets in the townships, where I think there is

a great need to understand that eating meat is not necessarily a traditional African thing to do. “In past generations, many people only had meat infrequently as it was hard to come by, and when they did it was very sustainable and safe, because they would be slaughtering the same animals they had raised. I just hope I can live up to the example of my grandmother and my mother, because they taught me what it is to be a lady – someone who is resourceful, never complacent and who knows how to work hard.”

Father and son, Walter and Claude Visagie

Walter: “My mom came from a village called Colleferro near Rome. She was an accomplished opera singer but when the war broke out she had to put her plans to sing on hold. She met my dad, a young South African soldier, when she was working as a waitress in the sergeants’ mess. They fell in love and courted by candlelight. After the war, she travelled from Italy to Egypt and then she flew to Joburg, where she took a train to Worcester to meet my dad. Imagine my mom coming from Italy and arriving in Worcester – have you ever been in Worcester when the wind blows? There to meet her was my dad in his flannels and braces. She was expecting him to take her to a house, but the house wasn’t ready yet, so it was actually a tent on the banks of the Brandvlei Dam because my dad was working for the Department of Water Affairs. After that they settled down, first in Gouda, then in Worcester, where there was quite a strong Italian community of former POWs who had been imprisoned there. After I was born, we moved around South Africa a lot. We ended up in Villiersdorp, where my parents retired. When my mom first arrived it was hard for her to fit in; in fact she had to learn Afrikaans from the radio because at that time

being Roman Catholic in such a small Protestant community was quite hard. “Food was a very big part of our lives; my mother really lived her cooking and I learnt from her, the way she’d learnt from her own mother. I grew up helping her in the kitchen, making the pasta. My job was to drop the fillings into the ravioli in their special tray. At our house, every special occasion meant a feast, from Easter to Christmas to

Food was a very big part of our lives; my mother really lived her cooking and I learnt from her the way she’d learnt from her own mother. Walter Visagie

birthdays. First we would start with the antipasti (cold cuts of meat, cold dishes and pickles and bread); then the primi (the pasta courses), normally lasagne; and then the secondi piatti or meat dishes, which would often be schnitzel with insalata amare, a bitter endive salad. And then of course the dolci, the sweets.

My parents were married for 46 years and when my dad died she stopped cooking. But she carried on writing to him in Italian in her diary every day, until the day she died when she was 83 years old. “At first I was a typical South African man, cooking braaivleis and the like, but later, after I was divorced, I started watching BBC cooking shows. I would phone my mom for advice and I would argue with her about different cooking techniques, which she would get very upset about. I really have a passion for all things food related and I think this has rubbed off on Claude, because he also developed a passion for cooking and food. That is one thing that makes me sad – that my mom never got to see how her legacy and her love of good food has carried on and influenced our family. She would be so happy to see how Claude cooks today – the way he experiments with the same ingredients and dishes that she used. She would be just as proud of him as I am.” Claude: “The first thing I ever tried to do was make my own prosciutto. After a lot of work I realised I had dried it too fast. But I am an engineer, so I rigged up a fridge in which to dry the prosciutto. It worked wonderfully but the only place to put it was in our bedroom. My wife is very patient!”

n Do you have a treasured family recipe or strong memories of childhood connected to a specific food or smell? Share them with us: molo@capetownpartnership.co.za

Annita Jole Gina Zangrilli (third from left) met Johannes Stefanus Visagie when he was a soldier in Italy during World War II.

MOLO September/OCTOBER 2013

Mapping the city

TASTE MAP

The taste, sights and smells OF Sir Lowry Road Text: Ambre Nicolson

Stroll down Sir Lowry Road in Woodstock in the company of local foodie Karen Dudley – and share some of the tastes and smells to be found along this busy Cape Town thoroughfare.

small woman with a deep voice, big grin and freckles, Karen Dudley is a lot like her neighbourhood eatery, The Kitchen: colourful, eclectic and busy. She whirls around her small café, simultaneously answering questions from her staff, signing copies of her cookbook, A Week in The Kitchen, and greeting regulars by name and with a kiss. Stopping for a moment in front of the day’s selection of salads, she explains her food philosophy: “I am personally not a fan of the melting pot; I want flavours that are rich and distinct. Take these dishes … it might look a bit like a salad tsunami at this time of the afternoon but each of these flavours can sit down and have a conversation with the next one.”

When we finally make it out onto the street, we are met with the smells of impending rain and exhaust fumes – and a whiff of freshly brewed coffee. The coffee smell is wafting over Sir Lowry Road from The Deli, where Karen heads at breakneck speed, chatting all the while. “Take these beauties,” she says, brandishing a paper bag of fat, golden, just-fried slap chips (part of The Kitchen’s staff meal), “this is everything that a potato wants to be!” From The Deli (described as a good spot for breakfast and “pukka” Deluxe coffee by owners Nicky Franco, from West Yorkshire, and Carlos Franco, a Londoner with “a central American twist”), it is only a couple of short steps to, in Karen’s words, “the ladies who make the best samoosas anywhere”.

Shereen Ebrahim, of Ebrahim Stores, has been making her chicken and mince Indian samoosas for 20 years, and has no intention of stopping any time soon (much to the relief of her fans and regular customers). Back on the street we are met with the following sights, smells and sounds: small children on bicycles trundling towards the park, a family sitting outside their furniture store drinking tea, wood smoke from streetside fires, taxi guardtjies yelling out their destinations, and a corner internet café (which declined to be photographed) that sells, among other things: Jive; maize meal; Nik Naks; shampoo; air time; braids and black, curled, dried Malawian fish known as insombo. A little further down the road,

at Sam’s Café, famous for its local delicacies like gatsbies, pies, rotis and vetkoek (Karen recommends the curry mince pie), I am chatting to the chef and proprietor, Neela Naidoo, when a large man with an American accent walks in, asking for vetkoek. At the news that the vetkoek is sold out for the day, he looks crestfallen. Bill Baker, as I learn he is called, has been coming to Sam’s for vetkoek since 1997. “It’s always as good as the last time I had it; I can’t get enough of the stuff,” he says. Continuing along Victoria Road, Karen points ahead to various corner cafés, Shoprite, Balmoral supermarket, Da Gama Fisheries and Fish4Africa (freshly shucked oysters on demand) – all Woodstock institutions. Hopscotching above and below

Victoria Road, Karen laments that we can’t feature all of Roodebloem Road as well (“There are so many wonderful tastes there”) and sings the praises of Woodstock generally: “It’s the diversity of this place that I love. My mom is from town and my dad is from Genadendal. As a child I remember him bringing fresh produce to the market where the Good Hope Centre stands today. Now, after I have lived here myself for 12 years with my own family, I can’t imagine being anywhere else – there is just so much going on here.” Our explorations end on Walmer Street, where Karen lives and where, in her words, “You have to come on a Sunday to try Suraya’s koesisters. Just bring your own container and be at 10 Walmer Street between 07h00 and 09h00.”

Karen Dudley, The Kitchen: “In this kitchen there is a treasure trove of flavours. We have people who come here every day, so we have to keep stretching their flavour experience.”

Neela Naidoo, Sam’s Café: “This has been our place for 35 years. I make everything you see here by hand: pies, gatsbies, vetkoek, the lot. You know, I tried buying frozen pies once, but oh my, they were not good. No, it’s better to make everything from scratch; that way everyone who comes here always knows exactly what they are getting – and, let me tell you, what they are getting is good!”

Aqeel Moses, Da Gama Fisheries: “I think the taste of Cape Town has to be fried fish and slap chips with vinegar, but not too much.”

Faiz Higgens, Kekkel en Kraai: “Any part of a chicken, fresh or frozen, can be found here.”

Dub lin S t

14 Fai rvie wA ve

Altona Grove

12 13

Ro be rts Rd

Rhod esia S t

Mountain Rd

Calvin St

Plein St

Cave ndish St

Victori a Walk

8 Walmer Rd

Beyers Rd

Queens Rd

Pine Rd

Station St

Abe rdee n St

Shaakirah Petersen, Victoria Food World: “Yes, things have changed on this street a lot. Mostly for the better.”

Chur ch S t

Page S t

Gympie Rd

VICTOR IA ROAD

Wood lands Rd

SIR LOWRY RO AD

Ravenc raig Rd

Barron St

5 Searle St

Dorset St

Nelson St

Basket Ln

SIR LOWRY ROAD

Caxton St

SIR LOWRY ROAD

Brook St

Dorset St

Nelson St

Lewin St

Dormehl St

1-4

Basket Ln

Hosain Narka, Hosain’s Muslim Butchery: “I make my own sausages, rolled beef, mince, everything. Around Eid we also do special cuts, lots of roasts and things like that.”

Connie Caporicci, Fish4Africa: “This was my late mother’s shop which she opened in 2002. We sold it in 2006 but I still work here and we still sell the freshest fish.”

FEATURE

A melting pot Text: Alma Viviers

’n Mengelmoes; a melting pot; a real masala – our culinary heritage is a wondrous mix of cultures, flavours and influences. Molo chats to a heritage activist, a food technologist and food historian about what typical South African food is.

Hetta van DeventerTerblanche Food historian and judge on recent local cooking show Kokkedoor on Kyknet “I love food and believe that the food we all eat at home helps to give us identity. I am researching the food I grew up with, which will keep me busy for a long time. I like to trace the origins of a recipe in order to understand the culture where it originated and how it evolved. When you trace recipes on the right path, you find lots more along the way.” Hetta believes South Africans have distinctive cuisines that are distinguished by certain characteristics:

01 Fruit and vegetables are prominent When the Cape Colony was founded in 1652 by Jan van Riebeeck, its primary function was to provide victuals to ships. The Company’s Garden provided an enormous range of fresh fruit and vegetables, and soon privately owned plots and smallholdings were producing vegetables and fruit to supply the demands of the Cape. As a result, fruit and vegetables played a prominent role in local cuisine and were used in everything from sambals, chutneys and stewed fruit, to fruit dumplings and fruit tarts, as well as vegetable dishes and pickles. To this day we enjoy a variety of salads and vegetables, both with special meals and everyday braais.

02 Sweet and sour; sweet and salt South Africans love “suurkos” – slaphakskeentjies, mild sweet curries, liver with suursous, sousboontjies and pickled beetroot. Although often known as “suurkos”, this is actually a combination of sweet and sour. There are also local sweet-and-salt combinations: snoek and sweet potatoes, game with stewed fruit, curry with fruit sambals.

03 Spices The Cape was the halfway station between Holland and Batavia, the route that ships travelled with their valuable cargo of spices. Both

legal and illegal trade in spices flourished, and spices became part of our cuisine. Slaves, merchants, traveller and settlers would also have brought their knowledge of cooking spices with them from both Europe and Asia. Spices and recipes for curry-spice mixtures are found often in the oldest South African recipe manuscripts.

04 Variety, including

meat, fish, vegetables, baked goods and preserves

We have an incredible repertoire of recipes, made from ingredients of outstanding quality, but for many years failed to recognise it. People travel to France to taste their charcuterie, but locally we have a long tradition of biltong, droëwors, rolpens and a large selection of sausages made as they used to be in days gone by.

Thuli Gogela Food technologist and writer of the Mzansi Style Cuisine blog “The idea of ‘African food’ often serves as a blanket term, but there’s a wide range of cultures on our continent. Each country has its own unique ingredients and ways of preparing and presenting dishes; each dish is a representation of a culture, a people and a way of life. “While times have changed, traditional South African food – samp and beans, pap, kota (bunny chow), amagwinya (vetkoek), maotwana (chicken feet) – is still the same. Recipes and presentation are still in their original state. Recipes are passed orally from generation to generation, and we learn to cook by watching our family members and people in our community. On the other hand, people are changing through urbanisation, education and economic development. We are moving away from the rural areas due to studies and work, and many people of my generation are missing out on that opportunity to learn. We’re seeing a big shift from a traditional lifestyle to a Western-oriented lifestyle, especially among black cultures. Some people perceive traditional food as dull and associate it with poverty. Through my blog

The idea of South African cuisine is closely connected with our national identity as citizens in the post-1994 South Africa. Mogamat “Kammie” Kamedien

I try to bridge that gap and change people’s perceptions of indigenous dishes. Behind each dish or ingredient, there is a story of sharing, love, celebration and adventure. I recently asked a few restaurant owners in Cape Town why they don’t sell traditional Xhosa dishes and their answer was that there is no demand. We need to change consumers’ perceptions of the dishes in order to create the demand. As our lifestyles are changing, the food needs to change as well. Not so much as to make it unrecognisable, but so that it has a broader appeal. We need to be proud of who we are and what our food stands for, and showcase it to the world.” n Follow Thuli’s blog at www.mzansistylecuisine.co.za

Mogamat “Kammie” Kamedien Heritage activist and researcher on South African slave history “Dishes like bobotie have become a world on a plate. They allow us to explore our culinary connections and reflect on Cape Town’s position as a cross-cultural bridge between the Atlantic and Indian oceans, apart from also being the gateway into Africa. The Batavian cultural food legacy at the Cape of Good Hope is sometimes forgotten or overlooked, but Cape Town was an outpost of the VOC with its administrative heart in the Dutch East Indies or contemporary Jakarta, Indonesia. From a Cape Muslim cultural perspective, the Indonesian roots of dishes like bobotie or boeboer are recognised, without discounting the fusion and creolisation processes that demonstrate the finesse of female slave cooks in adapting recipes to local ingredients. From the East African coastal belt of Mozambique and Madagascar, we also get the culinary and linguistic

roots for ‘bredie’, all contributing to over 300 years of evolution of the cross-cultural continuum of a shared creole cauldron in the Cape kitchen space. “The idea of South African cuisine is closely connected to our national identity as citizens in the post-1994 South Africa. We’re still facing the challenges of true social cohesion and a common South African culinary citizenship because of the residual presence of national cultural group formations. “And while a shared identity like our rainbow flag colours, is still emerging on our national plate, working-class families have already commenced with the assimilation process of adopting each other’s celebratory dishes. Cape Malay or Indian cookery books, for example, are popular in South African households, regardless of race, religion or creed.” Bunny chow, or bobotie, boerewors or waterblommetjiebredie? What do you regard as authentic South African food? Write to us:

molo@capetownpartnership.co.za

MOLO SEPtEmbEr/OCtObEr 2013

a HOT MEaL FOR aLL

Text: alma Viviers Main photo: Kent Lingeveldt Portraits: Lisa Burnell

In this age of food trends, cooking shows, celebrity chefs and debates around organic versus genetically modified produce, the reality is that many people don’t have the resources for even the most basic meal. The Service Dining Rooms on Canterbury Street not only serves a hot meal for 5c to anyone who needs it; it also serves as a reminder that as a community we still have work to do in order to create a caring and equal society.

dORis syFREt, FOUNdER (1894–1977) According to French philosopher Simone Weil, it is our obligation not to let another human being suffer from hunger if we are able to come to their assistance. Doris Syfret would probably agree. In 1933 Doris, the daughter of the Cape Town financier Edward Ridge Syfret and his wife, Amy, established Cape Town’s People’s Service Club. The Great Depression of the 1930s was taking its toll on the citizens of Cape Town, and Doris decided to form a service club similar to those in Europe that tried to relieve the effects of unemployment. The club provided newspapers and books to read, classes including carpentry, shoemaking and millinery, as well as a clothes cupboard where needy families could “shop” for clothes. According to The Story of the Service Dining rooms by Ray Jensen, “Between the classes tea, coffee and a couple of solid sandwiches are served and during evening sessions cocoa and meat pies. The members

were not in a position to pay for [the food] and it is consequently given free as it is obvious that in many cases it is the chief, if not the only meal of the day.” It was this realisation, coupled with the American trend of the tickey restaurant – where the poor could buy a healthy, nourishing meal for a few cents – that resulted in the shift from helping members deal with enforced idleness to providing substantial, affordable meals for the poor. In 1938, Doris acquired the land on Canterbury Street where the building that still houses the Service Dining Rooms today was purpose-built. She didn’t just conceive and start the Service Dining Rooms but also inspired her relatives and friends to volunteer, and was the chief operating officer until her death in 1977. n SOURCE: The STorY oF The SerViCe DininG rooMS BY raY JenSen

gREg aNdREWs, OpERatiONs MaNagER Greg Andrews took over the management of the Service Dining Rooms about a year ago and has a longterm vision of turning it into as a safe place where the poor, the homeless and the vulnerable people of Cape Town can go, not just for a meal: “At the moment the Service Dining Rooms doesn’t really fit into the greater network of service providers working with people living on the streets. I am working to integrate it more, hopefully as a first port of call, almost like a drop-in centre. I want people who live on the street to feel a sense of ownership of the space; that they can come here without fearing that they might be roped into a programme or forced to comply with some system. On the other hand I also want it to be a space that is free and flexible enough for a social worker or occupational

The experience of working here has really opened my eyes. i think Greg and the Service Dining rooms’ philosophy of people paying for a meal is great; it means someone is a customer and not a charity case. anDiLe BuQa, TeMPorarY CooK

FEATURE

1. Mary-Ann serves-up 150 cups of coffee every morning before collecting donations from various city retailers and businesses. Here she’s cleaning fish from I&J’s weekly donation, fresh off the boats. 2. Greg Andrews believes that the Service Dining Rooms should evolve beyond just serving a hot meal to a place where people living on the street feel a sense of ownership and comfort.

therapist to rock up and have an informal chat over a cup of coffee with someone – not as a formal intervention. In a year’s time I am hoping that both people living on the street and people working in the sector will see it as a safe and convenient space.” To help achieve this long-term vision, Greg is working closely with Evan Blake, a researcher and cultural geographer at the Cape Town Partnership: “Evan has an action research approach that lends itself both to getting data that helps us to make better decisions about how to help people, and to giving us insight into what early interventions could be tested on a larger scale. What he needs is a space to experiment with these interventions, and the Service Dining Rooms has offered him that space. One of the first projects that we are going to test is a library; it really goes back all the way to the initial service club idea.” Another service that Greg started about a year ago is coffee mornings. “When I started we were only serving lunch. So we came up with the idea of coffee

mornings. I had an idea that strollers, who come from their homes elsewhere to earn a living on the streets of the city during the day, wouldn’t be in the city by 07h30 – and I was right. So our clients who come to coffee mornings are very much the people living on the streets of the central city, who really need a coffee in the morning. We get coffee donations from various city coffee shops, but we were starting to run out of our sugar donation five days before the end of the month (we get a monthly donation from Tongaat Hulett) and we would have to say ‘sorry, no coffee’ til the first of the month, when the new donation came in. And so, after a couple of months of this, a small delegation of the guys came to Mary-Ann and said they wanted to start paying for the coffee, and they insisted on paying 5c for it. And after a while they insisted on paying 10c and despite our protestations they were very firm. Now we keep a little kitty and it’s going so well that we’re able to purchase really good coffee sometimes. We also bought some special equipment for coffee mornings and now and then we have change left over – unbelievable! The lesson that I learnt from this is the guys have agency, dignity and the ability to get organised and take responsibility when something matters to them. This tells me that something is not working in the system that we should be providing, because we are not accessing this sense of agency within that community. We need to get better at doing this … I think if we did we would see some viable and interesting changes.”

Mary-Ann Hawkins, driver and coffeemaker Every morning at 06h30 from Monday to Friday MaryAnn, a retired client recruiter for a pharmaceutical company, arrives at the Service Dining Rooms to brew the 150 cups of filter coffee that are served at 07h30. For many of the people who come for coffee, this is their only breakfast. Mary Ann joined the Service Dining Rooms two years ago when a friend, the manager at the time, approached her to help out when they needed a replacement driver. “Although I am retired I wasn’t ready to sit at home,” she recalls. “It started off with the driving and collecting donations, and then about a year ago we started with the coffee mornings. The customers all call me ‘ma’ and we get along great. Because I do this for the people, they feel they need to do something for me in return. Sometimes I would get little gifts like a pen or little notebook; it really touches me deeply. At times, when someone doesn’t have money to pay for a coffee but promises to pay the next day, I give them a coffee and, because I trust them, they always pay me.”

Kent Lingeveldt, photographer and founder of Alpha Longboards

Earlier this year, Greg asked friend and photographer Kent Lingeveldt to capture the Service Dining Rooms’ work in images. This wasn’t Kent’s first introduction to the service: he’d grown up in the apartment block across the road before it became a CPUT residence. But he also has more recent connections to the people there: “It was pretty cool, because most of the people recognise me from seeing me on my skateboard in the city every day. And because of my daily shooting of street scenes and city dwellers’ portraits, it was something I was very comfortable with.” Kent also recognises the value of the Service Dining Rooms’ approach: “Nothing is done to make the lunch goers feel like victims of poverty, and neither do they feel like victims. The strength and dignity they feel for paying for their meal, even if it’s only 5c, shows on their faces. The experience has definitely affirmed my positive perception of people living on the streets. I have always found them to be some of the most resilient and positive people that I come into contact with daily.”

Who knew? n I&J has been making a faithful weekly donation of fish to the Service Dining Rooms since 1948. Apparently there is no formal record of when or why the tradition started, but the story goes that during the 1930s the fish – both offshore and in the local line-fishing industry – were escaping the nets and lines of the fishermen. As a result, many fishermen became regulars at the Service Dining Rooms and, when the fish returned, the men remembered and shared the bounty. n The reason why it is called the Service Dining Rooms is that there are in fact two rooms. In the old days of racial segregation, white and black people came in through separate entrances and were served in separate rooms. Today everyone files in through the back alley. n The service to the street people of the city is only a small part of what the Service Dining Rooms does: More than 400 people in crèches, old-age homes and feeding schemes depend on the meals prepared and delivered to them every day from Monday to Friday. n Given that most city feeding schemes only run from Monday to Friday, volunteers from the Central Methodist Church use the Service Dining Rooms to serve Sunday lunch. n On the morning that Molo joined Mary-Ann for the coffee service, the takings were R17.50. That morning around 80 people each had approximately two cups of coffee. How much do you pay for coffee?

n Service Dining Rooms 82 Canterbury Street, Cape Town T: 021 465 2390 Daily coffee: 07h30 Daily mealtime: 11h30

MOLO September/OCTOBER 2013

YOU SAY

STREET TALK

Jeremy Namanyane, federation liaison officer, Department of Cultural Affairs and Sport

WHAT’S for lunch?

Lunch: Cream doughnuts and flavoured water Where: Cape Town Station forecourt

Photos: Lisa Burnell

“I know it is not very healthy, but today I felt like cream doughnuts for lunch. Luckily I train hard so you won’t see the effects of it.”

For many in Cape Town, the noon gun signals the start of that glorious hour in the middle of a hectic working day in which to stop, take a deep breath and have something to eat. Molo’s Alma Viviers hit the streets to find out what Capetonians are munching for their midday meal.

Alex Jussah, artist and trader, and Kokodo Mmanmu, trader Lunch: Egusi with pap Where: St George’s Mall

This is traditional Nigerian food that we bought on the Grand Parade. You use the pap to make a little ball, then you make a hole in it with your thumb to scoop up the soup. With food like this you don’t miss home.

Deon Jacobs, sheet-metal worker

Elsie Chiweshe, waitress

Lunch: Packed lunch of a burger and cheese sandwich

Where: Cape Town Station forecourt

Where: Thibault Square

“I normally buy lunch. Today I’m having some fried chicken, but my favourite is fish and chips from Texie’s.”

“I normally pack lunch before I go to work every morning. It is whatever is available, like leftovers, or I make a sandwich.”

Jon Minster, editor of Go! magazine Lunch: Nando’s Mild Chicken Burger

Mario Ligwa, electrical engineering technologist, Metrorail

Where: Steps on Thibault Square “I like to step away from my desk and go outside during lunchtime to get some fresh air; well, as fresh as you can get in the city.”

Lunch: McDonald’s McFeast Deluxe Burger Where: Cape Town Station forecourt “This is my regular lunch spot and I often buy lunch from one of the takeaways around the station. Sometime I bring lunch, but then I forget it at the office and end up buying something anyway.”

Raymondy Adams and Charlene Williams, job seekers

Hamilton Nyasha, taxi owner

Julius Zimunya, driver

Lunch: Packed lunch of pap and meat

Lunch: Banana bread and a soft drink

Where: Cape Town Station forecourt

Where: Thibault Square

“I like the food that my wife cooks and packs for me for lunch. She makes nice pap and vleis or rice and stew. I eat it in my taxi or out here under the trees.”

Lunch: Fried chicken

“I am from Doornfontein and this is my first time in Cape Town. My sister and I are visiting her two daughters-in-law and they invited us to have lunch here today with them.”

Lunch: Boerewors rolls with hot chips and coffee Where: Station deck stalls “We’re both looking for work at the moment and the food here on the station deck is cheap. When we’re in town we also like to go to KFC for lunch.”

Give us a peek into your lunchbox. Tweet a picture of your lunch to @CTPartnership #Molo.