April 18th, 2011
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I agree with the M&G article and the post earlier on about Joburg restaurants. But perhaps the points were made too politely.
Lets be frank: DW (eleven or twelve or whatever - I don’t actually care) - what a stupid, sad excuse and how stupid of EAT OUT to say anything but fuck you to that pathetic molecular gastronomy lite. fuck that shit. oh, and the new YUM wank fest what ever they’re called. R500 for a 16 courses of every animal and every vegetable - gross. Heston Blumenthal suck my dick. Espresso: smells. The wolves: fuck off. The rabbit and the moon: sad, empty, overpriced. Trabella: crap pizza bases actually (but good for date night). Turn and tender: is that all there is for us. Salvation: incredibly bad service. Il Giardino: Assagi Lite.
April 10th, 2011
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Id like to say one or two things about having dinner parties and lunches in my apartment complex.
The first thing I’d like to say is to my neighbours: FUCK YOU GUYS.
If you want peace and quite go and live in a house in Westedene and if you cant afford a house, earn more money.
Being stropy about noise is so incredibly boring, and rude and off-sides.
When did nice people eating and laughing become noise pollution? Listening to John Meyer concerts at full volume is pollution.
And this is the lunch they were complaining about. Philistines.
April 5th, 2011
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I have a love/hate relationship with the Neighborhood Goods Market.
I love it because it’s a great place to nurse all sorts of cravings, and there are so many awesome ‘artisinal’ style foodie things in one place that it’s hard to leave without finding something delicious to sink your teeth into or take home to drool over later (my preeeccciiioooouussssssssssssss…)
Apparently it’s now going to be happening in Joburg too, which is fucking fantastic, because the Joburgers will enjoy it and appreciate it more than the spoilt Capetonians who only go there to show off.
Which brings me to why I hate it.
The biggest and most off-putting thing is the pretentious shit heads that prance around in their hipster clothes with their hipster hangovers, dogs on leads, posturing and being all hipster, not appreciating the food and congesting the place with their stupid faces and unwashed, bony bodies. They are like a bunch of stupid chimney sweeps and couldn’t give a rat’s arse about the things being sold. I don’t remember the last time I saw any of them exchange money with a vendor. Go away! Find somewhere else to have your stupid ‘gathering’ or whatever the hell it is. I want to get to the FOOD! I want the best fat steak sandwiches, all pink in the middle, soft and rare and dripping in hot mustard. I want Souvlaki with melty haloumi and tzatsiki. I want an enormous sangria that I can hoover down and chew on the fruity bits at the bottom. I don’t want to look at their stupid faces- they ruin it! Between groups of them being all ironic and bored, and fighting my way through the ambling crowds of the zillion other dopey slow walkers, I feel really pissed off. So I’d rather avoid it. It’s too much stress and most of the time you also can’t find parking anyway.
Also, it’s so frikken expensive- what’s that about? Remember the days when a ‘market’ meant that you’d get a kind of reasonable deal on something?! Or basically that the stall holders weren’t paying overheads, so the goods were more affordable. I know the stuff is like, fancy and handmade/ carried on a sherper’s back all the way from Uzbekhestan to Woodstock, but come on!
Bugger… I love it though.
March 29th, 2011
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On Sunday I made a lamb stew using mostly lettuce and it was DELICIOUS.
I had always thought that cooking with lettuce was seriously weird, and had encountered many a recipe in more traditional Italian cookbooks using lettuce mostly for soups and sauces. But it’s delicious, and this week I’m going carry on with my discovery and make watercress soup. Yum.
The recipe was stolen while spending an afternoon sitting on the floor in Exclusive Books while looking for culinary inspiration. It’s from Jamie Oliver cooks in France, Spain, Sweden, Italy etc and calls for Cos or Romaine lettuce. I’ll admit, I took some sneaky pictures with my phone for the recipe, I’m building up quite a collection.
March 12th, 2011
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Vegetarianism is an eating disorder.
March 10th, 2011
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Let me be bold: Am I the only one who’s wondered what the hell is up with Cape Town’s lack of a decent fish restaurant? Yes, we do indeed have Luke Dale-Roberts in our corner (and man can that guy cook), not to mention a lot of other culinary stars, but come on people— last I checked there was a rather large aquarium, yes, a huge fucking ocean right on our back doorstep. How come nobody’s had the savvy to open up shop with a menu to inspire pescatarian wet dreams?
So there’s Nobu… Thanks, but mortgaging my house for a meal in that joint is not on the cards. Willoughby’s has a stellar selection of ocean dwellers on their spyskaart, but the neon strip lighting and stilletoed boobs with kugels attached are not my cup of tea. Yes, you can take a fine fillet ‘o fish home, but you’ll pay, and I mean pay for that privilege. Miller’s Thumb seems to be the recommendation of most locals, and they do do a decent seafood meal (even though the glitter of their former glory seems to have faded)… I can even handle the plastic tablecloths, but those neon orange walls and forest green pillars are enough to get that dreaded squealer from ‘Clean House’ scratching down the door. In. Di. Gestion! Somehow Joburg (not a coastal city for those slow on the uptake) is sorted enough that there’s a better selection of seafood counters in the local supermarkets than seafood restaurants down here in the old Mother city. They definitely trump us in the efficiency category and have the coins to rub together, but really, what IS our excuse?
March 10th, 2011
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Here’s the problem in Johannesburg; we are WAY too polite.
It’s not only the responsibility of journalists and critics to take down restaurants who think it’s acceptable to serve us bad ingredients or overcooked or soggy or or unseasoned (i’m talking to you, Reuben) food; the finger is pointed right at you, the public.
Going out for a meal is not a gamble. There’s a tendency to think that regardless of whether you win (by getting what you expect, or better) or lose (by being served rubbish) you still need to part with cash just because you consumed something. Just because it’s food, and it arrived at your table doesn’t mean you have to pay for it.
Oh - and i’m not talking about sending something back, who wants to do that? By the time you get your plate back, whoever you are eating with will is likely to have finished and is already having a cigarette outside and you’re the idiot eating alone?
Surely, a culture of not paying when what you are served is inedible or not worth the price can only result in higher standards, over time? And most importantly, surely the restaurants want to know when we’re dissatisfied?
