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She’s a food writer and the con­tent pro­ducer on the kykNET foodie pro­gramme Kokke­door and its new sis­ter, Koeke­door. Er­rieda du Toit may live in Cape Town but her heart is in Prince Al­bert.

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Er­rieda du Toit has a spe­cial bond with Prince Al­bert – and a yearn­ing for its figs

Er­rieda says the names of her dogs,Tjok­lit and Po­er­ring,say all you need to know about her sweet tooth. Koeke­door will be broad­cast on kykNET fromApril 2015.

After two sab­bat­i­cal trips to the Ka­roo while we shot Kokke­door, Prince Al­bert has be­come my spir­i­tual home. Even though I’m no lo­cal, I feel an in­tense bond with the town – as if we’re con­nected by an um­bil­i­cal cord.

For a foodie, Prince Al­bert is nir­vana, a place that sets alight the senses and awak­ens nostal­gia. There are the liver frit­ters, sold in a white pa­per bag at the café next to Pep on the main street. The new own­ers may have re­named Wim­pels as Som­merso, but the recipe for the liver frit­ters re­mains un­changed.

I as­so­ciate this world with home­made good­ies, with tra­di­tions, with mem­o­ries of a cer­tain way of do­ing things, with Grandma’s cook­ing. You live with the sea­sons here – I don’t com­plain about the sum­mer heat, be­cause it forces you to slow down, to am­ble.

Prince Al­bert boasts cool lei­vore, small-town “farms” with veg­gie beds, fruit or­chards and olive groves. The town is bor­dered by vine­yards, onion fields and grazing cows.

And fig trees. Figs sim­ply don’t ex­plode with taste like this any­where else. When I drive away, my boot is loaded with sup­plies for my ur­ban ex­is­tence: sweet Ka­roo dessert wine from Her­man and Susan Perold, and large wheels of cheese from Gay’s Dairy.

Then, when I get home and bite into a fig, I want to weep with yearn­ing for Prince Al­bert.

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