Early Sunday morning I set of on my four and a half hour long journey to kill two birds with one stone. I was second shooting David and Yvonne’s wedding (coming soon!) with Waiman Yau Photography on Monday and also went to visit my awesome brother up in Leeds for a few days.
On my way back yesterday I made a quick stop in London Bridge’s South African shop- The Savanna. This place, to me, is quite literally- Heaven. Filled with all the goodies I grew up with as a child. Biltong, Droëwors, Tjips, Romany Creams, Cream Soda, Grape Fanta, Ghostpops, Chappies, Wilson toffees etc… Even Ouma’s Buttermilk rusks took me back to the cold Winter evenings in the dry North West where my mum would make us Milo in the evening. Now that, to me, was soul warming.
The Savanna and other South African deli’s here in the UK, have a way of transporting a person back in time. In an instant.
Upon arrival to the Savanna, I find all the bits I had a taste for and as I walk up to the counter, the cashier goes:
I’d smile nervously and answer, “Good thanks!” (It’s always the same, as they notice my difference in accent. I brace myself. (Giggling like a silly schoolgirl)
“Whê a yuuu frrom in S-Ay?”, they’d ask.
My reply: “Potchefstroom”.
“HA! Potch-Heff-Strooom nogals hey!?” and I’d giggle again…
“Ja, I grew up speaking Afrikaans.”- adding the “ja” for effect and nervously waiting for a lecture on how one shouldn’t forget one’s roots. (this never happens btw. No lectures even. But I’m still ready for it. I obviously have a conscience…it’s telling me I’ve changed. Maybe too much.)
Ashamed of my “confusing accent” and my lack of RAW- Afrikaans-ness, I reply quickly,
“I’ve been here for about 10 years now. And you?”
The cashier: “Ahh nice, ag, ja- no man, I’ve bien heer for around too yieers now. Nothing like SA hey?”
“Nope, no there’s nothing like it.”
I’d pay for my “train snacks”, and walk off smiling, knowing my SA “fix” didn’t just come from buying the biltong and other goodies, it also came from the mischevious South African smile those boys have. Ambitiously wearing “plakkies” on a cold day in London.
Before I step away from the deli, I stop, briefly inhaling another breath of nostalgia, and then set off on the last leg of my journey back to Brighton.
So, yesterday I got some “maize meal”, “boerewors” and a few other “bits and bobs”. I had a vision. I had to re-create the staple food I grew up with. And so I did. I made my own “PAP EN WORS” and boy let me tell you.
“Eish wêna…It was divine…” ( I have a funny feeling, only ex-pats speak like this…)
Here’s the recipe:
|2 cups of Iwisa|
|2 cups of water- Boil.|
|Careful not to pierce the skin of the “wors” as it will let out all the moisture and dry the sausage quite quickly.|
|Add a hint of salt to taste. Add a bit of butter too if you’d like.|
|My own version of tomato and onion relish.|
|Add a teaspoon of Durban curry powder.|
|Keep stirring the “pap”|
|Add a bit more butter just for fun.|
|And of course…I didn’t waste anything.|
A CHOIR SIMULATING AN AFRICAN STORM USING THEIR HANDS AND FEET ONLY – TOTO – AFRICA
SOUTH AFRICAN HUMOR