ALL OCEAN AND SALT, WHITE WASHED AND SUN-BLEACHED BEACHES
Imagine a place both desolate and dynamic, ancient and yet ageless. This is the Cape West Coast
the honest lethargy of warm afternoons or the anticipation of an evening meal eaten outdoors, the scent of woodsmoke on the breeze. Visiting here means a return to a life lived simply, and an appreciation for small pleasures – guavas sweet from a neighbour’s tree, fresh snoek fatty from winter seas, a toothless smile from a face as wrinkled as a walnut.
It was this lifestyle that I craved. An existence I wanted to explore and document in a series of recipes that celebrated the West Coast. Research for my cookbook West Coast Wander (R320, Loot) enabled me to call the fishing town of Velddrif home for a few months, and I was surprised at how smoothly this city girl settled into the slower pace of country life.
How did my love affair with the West Coast come to fruition?
I have been coming here for almost three decades, lured irresistibly by the stretch of coastline and the towns settled along it.
There are many aspects of the West Coast that can conjure up emotion in those who visit it, and people often say that one either loves the area or hates it. There is much to celebrate here – the first glimpse of the salt pans from the Carinus Bridge
into Velddrif; pink flamingos wading, the river lapping gently against spindly wooden jetties; the smell of bokkoms drying in the sun; slow sunrises and fast sunsets; the scent of coastal fynbos after the rain; the sound of the Sishen train; a night sky full of stars and the constant roar of the cold Atlantic Ocean all bestow their gifts on the traveller.
Time spent on the West Coast lends inspiration to my recipes, what with local ingredients making the basis for my style of simple Mediterranean-influenced cooking. From seafood to fleur de sel, Sandveld lamb and sweet potatoes, the West Coast offers the culinarily-inclined a veritable feast of flavour. A weekend here is an excuse to eat in abundance!
After stocking up on some Weskus essentials (Pasteis de Nata from Rosemead Bakery, seaweed-infused loaves from Manna Sourdough, smoked angelfish from Charlie’s Fish Shop), we head through to Elands Bay and the farm of my good friend Arend Louw. A landscape artist, Arend captures the surrounding Sandveld in oils and ink, working from the studio set up in his historical farmhouse. Meals enjoyed here always develop into my fondest memories; I bring along the ingredients I’ve discovered on my travels – snoek from Doringbaai, Saldanha Bay mussels, bread and perhaps a ripe Camembert from Kokerboom Kaas in Velddrif – and the fire is lit, the table laid, the wine poured.
Setting up for evening drinks, I can truly feel at home and relaxed. Time slows down, the stresses of my life seem smaller, and I can appreciate the call of crickets, the smell of saltbush, the moon rising over Klein Tafelberg in the faded pink dusk.
As much an artist over the coals as he is with a brush, Arend braais up succulent snoek basted in my smoked paprika butter and we cram into the kitchen to feast on the fish paired with his grandmother’s soetsuurdeeg (sourdough) bread and korrelkonfyt (grape jam).
As a starter, fresh mussels are cooked in an old cast-iron potjie, steamed with buttery leeks, wild garlic and a generous glug of Kookfontein Sauvignon Blanc. Arend’s famous pampoenkoekies (pumpkin fritters) are served as dessert.
On the West Coast, food is all about sharing. In season, I gather Cape lemons from my friend Andrea’s tree. Fresh harders can often be found on the banks of Bokkomlaan, with Wynand Brand of Mappie Visserye bringing in his catch to be salted and dried in the warm Berg wind. In the late winter, veldkool or wild asparagus grows in abundance, and I love to serve it lightly grilled in butter flavoured with bokkom.
Paying homage to a place with such a diverse food history as the West Coast has ignited a passion to showcase the cuisine and couple it with my love for the simplicity of Mediterranean food. The basic flavours, the uncluttered way of cooking and the honesty in the final dish have cemented my decision to marry my style with tradition. I aim to encourage people to cook with local ingredients but to also experience the area through the landscape, through the people and ultimately, through the food.