Pink and fleshy, piping hot, sitting happily cooling on a window sill.
I have to great loves when it comes to food.
Home made pasta... and the one, the only, Mrs Julia Child.
When life throws you lemons, which is has been doing in my case lately, i stuff those lemons in a chicken, slap on some olive oil, and have a date night with myself, my dogs and a bottle of Rupert and Rothchild.
Food is so much more than it appears. Food is around when life happens.
Food tends to listen in, gossip along with us quietly and without judgement.
If im having a tear my hair out day, theres nothing more delicious than a bowl of fresh rasberry coulis and ice cream.
When im in love, i like to eat a mango in the bath bare hands and with passion.
In times of sadness, warm home made bread covered in dripping butter.
When im unsure, A simple bowl of tagliatelli, coriander and a hint of chilli.
Growing up around food and the healing qualitites it possesses has seen me scour the quainter jozi suburbs for hard to find winners... like the fresh bokchoi and oyster mushrooms in cyrildene sold in old checkers bags, Super Sconto,the Italian supermarket in Orange grove where frozen rabbit and fresh basil seem to speak pure Italian.
The ancient and tatty cheese shop in Mayfair for Cumin goats milk cheese.
Food is my friend. My oldest friend come to think of it.. and as i sit at my local coffee shop, eating a simple but honest toasted sandwich, being kept company by its melted cheese and baby tomato happiness, i realise this is what life is about.. its about finding a handful of people to sit around your table and eat with you, in sickness and health. Bon Apetite!
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