We kept cooking so you could, too
IF YOU WERE WONDERING
whether you’d see a May issue of TASTE, so were we. Two weeks before writing this we were all still in the office eating Abi’s chocolate Swiss roll cake for the third time and discussing the WFH “trial”. We left the office that Tuesday and, effectively, didn’t go back.
My hope, of course, is that by the time you read this, the lockdown will have been lifted, the curve flattened and some semblance of normality will be starting to return. But, at the risk of sounding like Princess Leia, that is not my only hope. What I really hope is that nothing will ever be quite the same.
What if the Covid-19 virus could be a giant reset button – correcting the missteps of a frantic, unhappy society where people take more than they need and put up walls between themselves and others. The panic-buying and selfisolation that followed the pandemic announcement seemed extreme, but it was also a metaphor for our times.
After the lockdown we continued to work on this issue, struggling with slow internet speeds and disjointed calls and way too many emails, along with the rest of the world. But every time I caught myself thinking “this is just too hard” (usually when my almost threenager was flinging herself against my door as I tried to work) – I thought of everyone for whom it was much harder.
The millions of South Africans living in conditions that make social distancing impossible. Everyone with businesses that were forced to close, threatening their livelihoods and the jobs of those they employ. Closer to home, my mother, alone at home after a trip to the US put both her and my sister in self-isolation even before the lockdown. And my father, also alone, as his wife spent the lockdown with her daughter.
So yes, it was hard putting together an issue of “family favourites” while isolated from our own families and from each other. But somehow, we did it.
Our art director, Al, became an overnight expert on VPN connections and cloud servers, while Liesl, our managing editor, stepped into the role she was born to play – rallying the troops via calming instructions and WhatsApp memes. Without them this issue would not be in your hands.
And while half the team was working on an issue we thought might never get to the printers, the other half was posting exhaustively on our digital channels and producing videos in their own kitchens. Someone had to show Woolies’ customers what to do with 24 cans of beans, 12 bags of pasta and a freezer full of beef mince.
So yes, it was the worst of times and the best of times. We shared chocolate cake recipes on WhatsApp and argued about ingredient substitutions. We had Zoom meetings with toddlers on our laps or roped them into appearing on camera (see pic of me and the threenager above). Relationships were tested, wine was drunk until it ran out and everyone, apparently, made banana bread.
And because he kept me going when all I wanted to do was faceplant into a Woolies lasagne, I will give the last word to my Salad Dodger who wrote this on Facebook at the start of the lockdown:
“So when all of this is over, and 30% of the working population prove that they can work from home and be more creative and happy, 30% less people will drive cars less regularly and homes will have an office and parents will spend more time with their kids. Some will go for walks instead of sitting in cars and cities will be less busy so dolphins will swim in the canals, otters will lounge in parks, ducklings will cross quieter roads and people will rethink everything they ever thought was normal. #afterthevirus.”
Thank you, SD. I’m so glad I got stuck with you.