Currying favour with the locals

Freelance food writer and food blogger Ishay Govender-ypma travelled South Africa exploring how curry permeated different cultures in her travel-cum- cookbook, Curry. Buhle Mbonambi finds out more...

WHAT I love about the book is how you curated all these stories from “ordinary” South Africans. How did you find them?

The majority of the contributors were referred to by the communities to which they belong: journalists, guides, librarians, community leaders, neighbours and religious organisations.

Luke Nair and Richard Poynton, for example, who have, over many years in illustrious careers, taught so many young people how to cook, continue to inspire eaters and home cooks. We travelled across South Africa, knocking on doors, making countless phone calls and asking people we encountered for referrals. I recently asked Siba Mtongana about the impact of her show and how more South Africans now love cooking more than before. Do you think that’s the case?

I think TV shows since the late 1990s have done wonders for the cooks across the globe, including South Africans. I felt inspired to cook, learning from Nigella Lawson and Jamie Oliver when I was in university in my late teens. I think after the demise of the local Masterchef SA, a curious thing has happened – that hunger to learn new techniques and to cook has been replaced with using food television as pure escapism. That’s why food TV is so popular and yet cookbooks are on the decline in terms of local sales.

I can’t say that we are cooking more than ever, but I do believe we are more interested in food than ever before. Did you have to work hard in convincing the people featured in your book to tell their curry story?

For the most part, people were very excited to get involved. Naturally, I never expected everyone to be familiar with my body of work and so I knew I’d have to take some time to talk them through the process and what I do and how I envision the end result. I believe in details and thorough preparation, so I took a folder, as a designer would lug around a “mood board”, with me with images of others and of some curries, and they found that encouraging… Now, my Whatsapp and Facebook requests from contributors who have seen their stories are pretty high.” There’s this feeling that only people in KZN know what a good curry is, but your book says otherwise – you have contributors from everywhere. Was that a major part of the book? To dispel myths about the standard of curries outside Durban?

By nature, we are territorial about food and about who makes the “best” version.

But once you understand that curry, as we know it, is a British construct, based loosely on some spiced gravy-based dishes they encountered during the time of the Raj in India, which over time they exported to the world, along with curry powder, a blend of convenience that Indian cooks never used traditionally – they always roasted and ground spices – you start to question how ownership can be placed on a dish that has no true owners.

Chilli was brought to India by the Portuguese from the New World in the 1500s, along with tomatoes and potatoes. So-called curries in India bear no resemblance to the Durban curry as we know it. So who can call it “authentic”?

When did you fall in love with food?

I’ve always loved eating and sharing meals, although I didn’t get much chance to do this until I left for university. It was then, saving my pennies to host a dinner every few months with friends in my old, dimly-lit apartment that I realised how wonderful it is to treat people whose company you enjoy. Do you remember the first meal you made?

Potato curry with peas – I might have been seven. So does a curry have to be spicy/hot for it to be delicious?

Not at all. Just like the Durban curry made by people across the province differs from home to home, the spice level differs. The amount of chilli doesn’t determine if it’s a curry or not. Neither does the cooking method or the ingredients you use. How important is the spice mix in a curry?

This book was never about judging the best curry, but rather about good curries that were accompanied by interesting stories and so we left it up to each cook to determine. Certain profiles of curry – Durban or Cape Malay for example – may have some stricter requirements where specific spices used. Most South Africans use a boxed curry powder mix and supplement this with other herbs and spices.

Many are adamant about spice shops or grinding by hand. For others, it’s a combination determined by circumstance. We cover the definitions of the spice mixes, the types of curry and commonly used terms. Turmeric is having a major moment in food trends this year. Besides in curry, where else is it great to use this wonder spice?

(For the record, I’m rolling my eyes at the world’s obsession with turmeric). Turmeric is excellent in curries, essential in pickled fish, and, if you go by my mother’s and all my aunts’ collective wisdom, heat with milk, ginger and honey for a persistent cough. All of India smears it on, mixed with milk or honey as a DIY face mask, but I haven’t yet. So before anyone cooks a curry, what is the first thing they need to do/have in their cupboard?

The most prudent thing to do, as you would with all cooking, is to read the recipe, twice! Store cupboard essentials include oil (any), aromatics like cinnamon, cardamom, coriander and cumin seeds, and masala, garam masala.

Onions, fresh chillies, garlic, ginger, curry leaves and whatever protein or vegetable you’re using are the next components. Of course, you need a liquid (some use none and cook with the lid on) and tomato if using. And salt. Fresh coriander isn’t essential but a lovely garnish before serving. Where did you have your best curry?

My grandmother’s house when I was a child. Both grandmothers. My paternal grandmother’s fish curry and my maternal granny’s cornish hen curry. Do you have a favourite curry?

My mom’s mutton curry with double beans. Why do you think this book is an important addition to the books about foods in South Africa?

I think through the stories that people share, we can get a good sketch of the land and the people who make it… It also served as a harsh reminder of how little healing our people have experienced post-apartheid. There may very well be room for a sequel to this book – in what form I’m not sure yet.

Curry is published by Human & Rousseau and retails at R395.