Meaningful Meals

The kitchen and dinner table in my family home is considered sacred, to be approached with not a device in sight and an open heart. It is a place of collaboration, comfort, and community; where we aim to nurture, both through the stomach and the mind. No compromises.

I can promise, with full certainty, that every friend and family member that has attended our house for a meal has had a wholesome experience, comprised of steaming hot food, fresh from the stove or oven, and an endless stream of sometimes pointless, funny, mischievous chatter, and sometimes political, philosophical, economic debates.

For every meal, there is one assigned chef, as we found truth ring in “Too many chefs spoil the soup”. Every person had developed their own unique style and mastered various different cooking techniques. There is also an assigned sous chef, whom while assisting with the sauces, chopping the complementary vegetables and keeping the work area clean, must keep all unsolicited opinions to themselves.

My mother cooks the juiciest beef and oxtail stews, bean bredies and a variety of soups; she has mastered the art of gravy- boiled dumplings and dombolo, and even discovered the cornstarch-properties of two ginger snap biscuits dropped in the gravy of a red meat stew.

My mother will admit, albeit reluctantly, that one of my father’s specialities, due to his extensive education over the duration of their, over thirty year old, relationship, is a Durban chicken curry. His other specialities include expertly orientated braai’s, with white meats and boerawors around the edges and red meats in the middle, and every variation of an egg -including the challenging art of the poached egg.

My sister is the baker; from biscuits, cakes and scones, to Nuttela brioche, cinnamon rolls and croissants. She is my fail-safe in the midst of my chaotic baking skills; whether its adjusting the consistency of my suspiciously sticky banana loaf, or that of the spontaneously liquid-dyed, blue baked cheesecake, she has a deep understanding of the chemical processes within baking, and ingredients and methods it requires.

Every day religiously, we allocate at least an hour in the evening to eating the food a family member prepared for us, and to speak to each other about what happened during our day, what we need guidance with or even for a solicited opinion. And somehow, it’s on days when the hours stretched, and challenges were faced, when stomachs were in knots and minds exhausted, that the tempting aromas seeping from the house’s hearth into the surrounding rooms called us from our rooms. On those days, the food tastes like a hug and the challenges you faced are put into perspective.

If it’s not the daily dinner table, its afternoon lunches and evening three-course meals with family friends for Easter, Christmas, Diwali and Ramadan. When we are not eating these meals at home, we are exploring the city for new restaurants, new types of food, new places, and for exposure to new cultures. There is no better way to explore our differences and grow together, simultaneously, than through the universal language that is our stomachs.