Back Chat

Midnight In Paris

2012-01-31T16:26:00.347+02:00

Midnight In Paris

Directed and Written by Woody Allen

Starring: Owen Wilson

Rachel McAdams

Marion Cotillard

Kathy Bates

Adrien Brody

Carla Bruni

Michael Sheen

Eugene and I love Paris and all things French. We are intrigued by every detail of the 'lost generation' and are really quite disappointed that we didn't live during that glorious time. So, Woody Allen's 'Midnight In Paris' was the looking glass through which we stepped to capture wisps of a dream. A dream of sharing the Paris of the 20's and 30's with all the extraordinary and brilliant people who created the magic that has us in their thrall

Join Back Chat as we 'Go To The Movies' and enjoy Woody Allen's tribute to Paris with us. I would love to know your reaction to this remarkable film. Do contact me at les@leslieback.co.za or leave a comment on Back Chat, I look forward to hearing from you.

The film opens with a montage of exquisitely haunting scenes of Paris, some romantically in the rain. The rain has a special meaning which we come to understand as the story unfolds. Beautiful music and then the title appears, 'Midnight In Paris'. All this gentle beauty contrasts with the brashness of a group of American tourists. Gil played by Owen Wilson, the dreamer and writer who would love to live in an attic in Paris and his fiancée, Inez, played by Rachel McAdams who is determined to live in Malibu and is in Paris to shop and shop. They are holidaying with her wealthy, proudly conservative parents, portrayed by Mimi Kennedy and Kurt Fuller. They all stay at The Bristol, a very grand five star hotel on the Rue Faubourg Saint Honore. The sort of hotel that caters to every whim of well-heeled tourists who probably believe they are having a very French experience.

Gil, having already irritated his future father-in-law with his liberal politics, escapes the constrictive atmosphere at dinner one night. He has had too much to drink and pleads the need to get some air to clear his head. He wanders off into the night, strolling through the streets of Paris, the city that haunts his imagination. He has read the works of the writers who lived and loved in Paris during the 20's and 30's. He has studied the work of the artists and the philosophers who frequented the cafés and bars on the Left Bank. This is the 'golden era' he has dreamt about.

He finds himself on a narrow cobblestoned street with no idea how to get back to his hotel. He sits down on some steps, which I later discovered are the steps in front of Eglise Saint Etienne-du-Mont. A clock strikes midnight and a beautiful old car comes rolling along in stately fashion. A 1920's Peugeot Laudaulet comes to a halt in front of him and a crowd of boisterous revellers gesture to him to join them. He climbs into the car protesting that they must have mistaken him for someone else. The passengers in the car, despite his protestations, simply absorb him into their marvellously rowdy champagne drinking group.

Gil is swept along with the group to a party. He knows nobody, and looking around the room he is both fascinated and confused by the mise-en-scene. Cole Porter's song 'Let's Do It' is in the air. He shakes his head in disbelief when, for a moment, he thinks that the man at the piano performing the song is Cole Porter. No, obviously it couldn't be! A young woman introduces herself, 'Hello I'm Zelda.' She calls across the room to her husband, Scott. Scott introduce himself as Scott Fitzgerald and adds "this is my wife Zelda. Now in a state of utter bemusement, Gil asks 'where am I? 'Oh it's a party for Jean Cocteau', is the answer.

During the course of this extraordinary evening, he meets a dashing and handsome Ernest Hemingway who offers to show the manuscript of Gil's novel to Gertrude Stein. Gil is now completely accepting and in tune with the period in which he finds himself. He dashes back to the hotel to fetch the manuscript and, oh dear, he finds himself back in present day Paris.

He spends the following day trailing after his fiancée and her mother as they trawl through shop after expensive shop. They encounter an antique shop, a sort of nostalgia place, run by a lovely young woman Gabrielle, who is also fascinated by the Lost Generation. Oh, we all think, she would be perfect for Gil. So much better than that awful shallow and blasé Inez. We really don't like Inez very much.

That evening after dinner, Gil persuades Inez to accompany him on a trip to the past. They wait and wait at the steps of the church, but nothing happens. Inez, predictably, becomes peevish and petulant. She hails a passing taxi and returns to the hotel. Gil waits alone and as the clock strikes midnight, his magic charabanc appears. That night Hemingway takes him to visit Gertrude Stein at her home in Rue de Fleurus. Woody Allen so cleverly captures the spirit and history of that home. Gertrude Stein, magnificently played by Kathy Bates, is pictured sitting in front of a portrait of herself painted by Picasso. The whole scene is full of clues about Stein and her brother Leo who were both ardent art collectors.

Gertrude Stein is having a rather heated discussion with Pablo Picasso about one of his new paintings. This painting, La Baigneuse (The Bather) actually exists and again is one of Allen's signposts. Gil meets Picasso's current mistress, a beautiful young French girl, Adriana, exquisitely played by Marion Cotillard. Their sexual chemistry is immediate and tangible. Adriana is a creation of Woody Allen's imagination, an assemblage of all Picasso's women in one lovely ensemble.

In the nights and days that follow, Gil's life is conflicted by his two realities. By night he meets the people he has long hero-worshipped and the day brings angst and uncertainty. Could there ever by a Woody Allen film without angst? Allen has obviously realised that he is too old to play the part and has found an excellent replacement for himself. Owen Wilson plays Gil with all the humour and sensitivity that Allen would have brought to the role.

An added complication in Gil's troubled odyssey is that he and Inez encounter Paul, an old flame of hers, played by Michael Sheen. He is going to lecture at the Sorbonne and is an intolerable bore. Gil finds him an insufferable pedant, while Inez is terribly impressed by everything he says and does.

There are many, wonderful cameo appearances throughout the film. Carla Bruni, the wife of the current president of France, Nicolas Sarkosy, is charming as a guide at the Rodin Museum. She has such a luminous quality and is quite lovely. Adrian Brody is hilarious as the surrealist artist Dali. Brody, who manages an extraordinary likeness to Dali, plays him just short of over the top. Dali is fascinated by rhinos and declares that Gil looks like a rhinoceros and so he goes on. Everything is a rhino. The famous Moroccan - French comedian, Gad Elmaleh, plays a detective hired by Inez's father to follow Gil to find out about his nighttime activities. Unfortunately for the poor benighted character, he also crosses through the time curtain with hilarious consequences.

There is a gentle message from Woody Allen to you, the viewer. Live in the now, even if there are other times and other places that may seem more enchanting, It is an illusion, albeit a seductive one.

Woody Allen, as is his wont, allows the ending to be unresolved and yet to be discovered. Oh, the joy of discovering one's own ending! This is a magic carpet ride through beautiful Paris. Enjoy Paris in the sun and in the rain. Enjoy the people, the cafés, the boulevards and the monuments. But most importantly, love 'Midnight in Paris". I just wish the film had not ended too soon.

Winner of Golden Globe award for Best Screenplay

Harbour House Restaurant Kalk Bay

2012-01-17T16:57:00.000+02:00

Kalk Bay has a wonderful, bustling, working harbour and happily ensconced on a breakwater in the harbour is Harbour House Restaurant. There she sits, perched on the edge of the ocean, eyeing all the goings on. In order to reach this lady of the bay, we made our way up some stairs and into a lovely place that seemed all light and white.

The interior of Harbour House Restaurant is divided into various rooms, terraces and cosy nooks. Each space has a number and the tables in that area are numbered accordingly. We sat in the 60's at a table number 61. Our table was in a corner of a room with floor to ceiling windows. Waves broke and crashed over the rocks below us and birds wheeled overhead. I am told that whales can be seen at various time of the year, frolicking and blowing up plumes of spray, sadly not for us that day, but still a vista spectacular and breathtaking.

There is an understated, rather laid back elegance throughout this seaside eaterie. The tables are dressed with white linen tablecloths, pristine cutlery and big shiny wine glasses eagerly waiting to be filled. Slices of homemade ciabatta in a wooden bowl accompanied by a plate with olive oil and balsamic vinegar ready prepared for dipping, was waiting for us at our table. And oh the delight at the large, soft linen napkins!

A charming young waitress brought menus and described the specials. We wanted everything. We decided to order drinks and spend a while perusing the menu. Eugene ordered a Peroni and I ordered a glass of Brampton Sauvignon Blanc. The specials were displayed on two separate black boards, one for starters and another for main course choices.

I have come to the conclusion that ordering a meal from a tantalizing menu is an art form and takes a life time of practice. We dithered and discussed, until finally Eugene decided to have two starters. He chose 'Harbour House Fish Soup' as his first starter. He totally adores fish soup and this offering sounded wonderful: " served with fresh line fish and mussels, cheese, croutons and sauce rouille." Oh wow! He opted for 'Masala dusted Calamari' as his main course. I ordered a Tian of Prawns from the black board starter specials and the line fish of the day as a main course. It was described as "gurnard with orange beurre blanc, spinach, sage, potatoes and grilled artichokes." Apart from Eugene's lovely choice of starters, one can also indulge oneself with Champagne Oysters, West Coast Mussels steamed in white wine, a Marinated Seafood Ceviche, or Beef Tataki with Chilli and Sesame.

On the main course menu you can enjoy Mozambique Style Tiger Prawns, Grilled Crayfish or a fascinating seafood selection. Dedicated meat eaters can enjoy a Grilled Fillet of Beef or a Rack of Lamb. There is a menu page 'Salads and Light Meals.' You can try interesting salads such as the Roasted Butternut and Feta Salad, the Greek Village Salad, a very fulsome House Salad or choose the Potato and Parmesan Gnocchi. And of course a dessert menu to drive you to distraction......Dark Chocolate Terrine, Classic Creme Brulee, a New York Style Baked Cheese Cake and much more.

There is an air of quiet efficiency amongst the waiting staff. I was told that they have a very intensive training programme and are required to write tests before they are allowed on the restaurant floor. The result is a hassle free experience for patrons, no tension, no irritation!

We sipped our drinks and 'people watched' while we waited. Beautiful plates of food were carried past our table to be presented to equally beautiful people. We did not have long to wait for our food. The first courses arrived looking absolutely splendid. Eugene adored the fish soup. It had echoes of a Provençal fish soup, our undying favourite. The rouille was deliciously spicy and enhanced the dish perfectly. My Tian of Prawns was a sight to behold. The vibrant colours of stacked avocado, eggplant and tomato dressed with oil, a sweet chilli jam and basil mayo provided a backdrop for three plump tempura prawns. The combination of the tastes was seductive and I mopped up every last bit with the ciabatta.

Eugene's main course was a triumph. Lots of deliciously flavoured calamari rings and tentacles garnished with a basil oil and accompanied by a piquant caper sauce tartar. He loved it. My gurnard was delicate and unctuous and so fresh, it fairly leapt off the plate. The food is simply and deliciously prepared to allow for the wonderful freshness of the ingredients. All the portions are very generous and one certainly does not leave Harbour House Restaurant hungry. We had eaten our fill.

After lunch, we went exploring. We wandered through the main floor of the restaurant. It is spacious, airy and light. Beautiful flower arrangements adorn the room providing a delicate counterpoint to the ruggedness of the sea and mountain views. This part of the restaurant is often used for private functions. An elegantly decorated lounge leads off the main floor. Here one can sit and dream or order a drink from the bar, or enjoy a meal. The view is an integral part of one's experience at Harbour House, like an extra guest at one's table. We were intrigued by a lone table for two set up on one of the outside terraces. This is table number 40 and is especially recommended for very romantic occasions. A proposal, a wedding anniversary or even a liaison dangereuse; after all it is all very discreet!

There is a full bar at Harbour House with a well chosen wine list. Exotic cocktails can be enjoyed as well as bubbles or champagne. Lovely to sip something special and watch the sun set. The winter view is equally stunning with grey skies, huge, angry seas and sea spray kissing the windows. A log fire is lit in the centre of the restaurant and the menu reflects the change of season.

Harbour House Restaurant is open for lunch and dinner every day except Christmas day.

Lunch from 12h00 -16h00

Dinner from 18h00 - 22h00

Address: Kalk Bay Harbour, Kalk Bay

Tel: 021 788 4133

Fax: 021 788 4136

email: harbourhouse@icon.co.za

website: www.harbourhouse.co.za

Booking is Essential

Eugene and I love eating out and we always pay for ourselves whenever and wherever we go.

Memories of Irma Stern

2011-12-13T12:29:00.008+02:00

Memories Of Irma Stern

1894 - 1966

This is a story of a time long past, when my world was younger and I had the incredible good luck to meet the fantastic Irma Stern. These are some of my memories of that amazing lady. I do hope that you will travel back in time with me and enjoy the memoir.

For years I have kept the notes which Irma Stern wrote to my mother. These bits of life from the mid fifties have been sleeping quietly in a drawer waiting for someone to breathe life into them. A card from Athens describing her love of the city, a note from Munich and a card on which is written ‘in greatfulness (sic) of meeting you, from Irma Stern’. It is so strange to see that famous signature scrawled at the bottom of a greeting card.

She and my parents were friends. As a very young girl, I remember Irma coming to take tea at our home. My mother always prepared a sumptuous amount of food, including Irma’s favourite pineapple fritters. My brother and I were banished, but not before we saw Irma take her place at the head of the table. We watched, fascinated, as she heaved her massive bosom onto the table and set about eating the fritters.

I have a memory of her ensconced in a large chair in our living room. Somehow whichever chair she occupied would become throne-like. She had brought a present for my parents, a beautiful vase that she had potted and painted for them. Now, where to place it to its best advantage ? She directed operations from her throne, rejecting place after place until she was satisfied. This was no ordinary vase. No flowers would ever sully its innards. It was and still is a perfect piece of her remarkable art.

We visited her at her home. I remember sitting at the long refectory table in the dining-room and being absolutely terrified by the African masks arranged on the wall opposite. On a cold dark day in March this year, I made a pilgrimage back to ‘The Firs’, now the Irma Stern Museum. I was transported. The inclement weather contributed to the ‘out of time’ feel of the whole experience. So much that I remembered and yet so much that was different. Other souls have dwelt there since those days long ago. The scary masks no longer adorn the wall in the dining room, but the table remains and so too the ‘thrones’ at either end that she and her friend Dudley occupied.

She and Dudley adored food and travelled the world in search of art, artefacts and fine food. At home in South Africa they thought nothing of motoring vast distances for a special meal. On Sundays it was their pleasure to eat at the Lobster Pot, a restaurant many miles from her home. In stately manner they would make the journey, enjoy a magnificent repast and then drive home to rest and recover from the excesses. That evening, rested and recovered, they would make the journey again and consume another mammoth meal. I would hear tell of these gastronomic odysseys followed by expressions of utter amazement at the sheer magnitude of the capacity required for their accomplishment.

She had grand dinner parties. Her faithful butler, cook and general factotum, Charlie, would be in attendance. Charlie, a little gnome of a man, was either from the Congo or Zanzibar. One memorable evening when my parents were guests at her table, whole pigeon was served. My mother gazed in horror at the little bird that had been placed in front of her. Without a word, she turned her chair around and with arms folded in defiance, refused to contemplate eating the pigeon. Thoroughly irritated by this byplay which momentarily deflected the attention away from her, Irma yelled, ‘Charlie, bring the little doctor an egg.’ And that is what my mother, ‘the little doctor’ ate, an egg.

The Irma Stern

Museum is open from

Tuesday to Saturday from

10am - 5pm

Telephone: 021 685 5686

A Still Life of Dahlias and Fruit (Signed & Dated 1960)

Martha's Vineyard

2011-12-06T16:28:00.100+02:00

The New England Diaries

Eugene and I had only ever heard of Martha's Vineyard as a summer playground of the rich and very famous. So many tales of happenings that have made newspaper headlines. But we were going to learn more about this extraordinary place. Robin would share his knowledge and be our guide on a fascinating exploration of 'The Vineyard'. His treasure trove of detail and anecdotes would make this adventure all the more remarkable.

He rounded us up for an early start for the drive to New Bedford, a city in Bristol County, Massachusetts. Here we booked our tickets on a ferry to Martha's Vineyard. It all seemed so normal for people to be taking a short sea voyage to their jobs or their homes. Apparently 'The Vineyard' is only accessible by sea or air. We enjoyed the journey on the calm waters of the Nantucket Sound and landed at Oak Bluffs, a town located in Dukes County, Massachusetts. Eugene and I were never going to get used to the rapidity and ease with which we changed states,counties,cities and towns. Robin hired a car and off we went to explore this quite extraordinary place. What a treat lay in store!

This little tourist town opened its arms to show us some amazing sights. A thriving Methodist movement developed there in the 19th century and, with it a camp site for summer meetings. As time passed, wooden walls were added to strengthen the tents and so the cottages evolved into the famous 'Gingerbread Cottages'. They have to be seen to be believed. Lovely bright colours and ornamental mouldings and one could be in toy town. Cheek by jowl with each other and really tiny. I do believe that people were smaller in the 19th century. These have become very expensive real estate and in some cases are still family owned and handed down to future generations. One of these little doll's houses was open to visitors. I felt a bit like Alice In Wonderland entering an enchanted place, or the white rabbit disappearing down a rabbit hole. Minute rooms, with low ceilings and a staircase that could surely have only catered for people with very small feet. On that day, James had not accompanied us. He is a bonny 6ft 4ins and would not have made it through the front door.

As ever, food would play an important role in our day. It was approaching lunchtime and Robin suggested that we drive to Edgartown for luncheon. Yippee, food!!!

Edgartown was an old whaling port in the 1800's. Ship's captains built marvellous mansions for their families and these grand old mansions and homes are now favoured tourist destinations in the summer. Edgartown incorporates the smaller island of Chappaquiddick which is sometimes connected to the rest of Martha's Vineyard by a barrier beach which can be breached during storms. Gossip swirls around Chappaquiddick as it is the site where Ted Kennedy drove his car into the water as he was crossing a bridge and his companion, Mary Jo Kopechne, was killed. He survived, managing to escape the sinking vehicle. He did not report the incident until the next day!

We went to a beach-side restaurant, The Atlantic. Casual, bright and airy and a feeling of always being on holiday. What to eat? As we had long ago succumbed to the allure of the lobster in New England, it would be no contest, we would simply eat more lobster in some form or other. We ordered lobster salads and lobster rolls. Now, lobster rolls must not be misinterpreted as some kind of roll with some lobster. Oh No! Succulent, unctuous lobster dressed in a delicate seafood sauce placed between the sides of a hot dog roll. All this on a plate of salad or fries or whatever took one's fancy. The combination of the soft roll and the firm flesh of the lobster is a triumph. Of course it is eaten with one's fingers and the joy is getting sauce all over over one's face and having an absolute feast. Oh my goodness! My mouth is watering as I write about it.

Edgartown was used as the main shooting location for the town of Amity in Steven Spielberg's blockbuster, Jaws. I love movie trivia and found it fascinating recognising landmarks and buildings used in the film. There are all sorts of happenings, some tragic, associated with 'The Vineyard'. On July16 1999, John F. Kennedy, Jr, his wife, Carolyn Bessete and her sister Lauren Bessete were killed when the small plane that he was piloting crashed off the coast of Martha's Vineyard. The Kennedy Curse had struck again and the 'The Vineyard' had carved another notch on it's belt of happenings and history.

Native American tribes were living on Martha's Vineyard long before the advent of the colonial era. As time passed, the Colonial English who had purchased the land and the Native Americans came to an amicable arrangement. Ancestors of the early Native Americans still live on 'The Vineyard'. They own tranches of land on the island which today are very, very valuable real estate. Wonderful names such as Wampanoag. Chappaquiddick and Liacoomes are now part of the culture and language of Martha's Vineyard.

Time to move on. First a stop to buy delicious ice cream at a place called 'Scoops'. Then off we went across the island to see the famous Gay Head Lighthouse in a town called Aquinnah, the home of the Wampanoag Indian Americans. The Gay Head Light stands boldly atop the famous Gay Head clay cliffs where the clay is a wonderful concoction of colours. All fascinating. Onwards to a fishing village with the wonderful name, Menemsha. The American Indian words lend such a romance to the lingua franca of the island.

This fishing village is perfect with fishermen clomping around in their wellies, a flurry of tugs and fishing vessels, quaint wooden cottages and sea birds wheeling overhead. We were amazed by the shops where one could bring in one's catch and have it cooked while you waited and then sit down outside on a wooden jetty and polish it off. Imagine that! Or, alternatively, you could eat what one of the weathered sea dogs had already carried in and sold to the owners, cooked the way you chose. It was all so different from anything we had ever known and so utterly lovely.

Robin urged us back to the car. Time was just racing by and we were on the opposite side of the island from Oak Bluffs where we would catch the ferry back and there was still so much to do. We drove along the island up to a place called Vineyard Haven. This haven of a place is a community within the town of Tisbury. An area of affluence and luxury. Grand houses and mansions, hotels and spas for summer visitors and very beautiful shops. We drove along a private road and saw some of the astonishing summer homes belonging to the very privileged. All this splendour was such a huge contrast after the rustic simplicity of Menemsha, our lovely little fishing village!

Time to head back to Edgartown and an early supper before we caught the ferry back to the mainland. Robin chose a really pretty restaurant, Alchemy Bistro and Bar, a gem of a place. I was enchanted. Lots of white and green with gray wainscoting, lovely old wooden floors and paper covered white table cloths. An opening cut into the ceiling gives a view of the second floor tables. The effect, chic and stylish.

We chose to eat a speciality of the house and one of my all time favourites, soft shell crabs. They were fried, cornmeal-dusted and served with lemon risotto, sweet peas and artichokes. The soft shell crabs were delicately flavoured and crunchy and just slipped down one's throat. Oh, what a glorious feast! We washed it down with a crisp and delicious New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. We had supped royally. Robin certainly earned his stripes that day. It had been a wonderful sojourn of peaceful and serene memory gathering. Incredibly, we would be venturing forth again the following day, but this time it would be to the city of New York, brash, noisy, but always grabbing at a part of one's heart.

The Fishing Village At Menemsha

PS: How Did Martha's Vineyard Get Its Name?

One of the explorers and the first to leave any account of the island was Bartholomew Gould of Falmouth, England. It is thought that he named the island, Martha, either after his mother, Martha, or after his baby daughter Martha who had died. He added the word 'Vineyard' when during his exploration of the island, he came across luxuriant grape vines, lush vegetation and many beautiful lakes and springs of the purest water.

Gerald Cubitt - Wild Life, Travel and Natural History Photographer - His African Odyssey

2011-11-18T15:36:00.022+02:00

In the Merriam - Webster dictionary, odyssey is defined as 'an intellectual or spiritual wandering or quest.' Gerald Cubitt has spent more than half his life wandering the earth, photographing the wondrous creatures and natural wonders that he has encountered. In his latest book, 'Evocative Africa: Ventures of Discovery', he presents a compilation of sublime images of sub-Saharan Africa from his vast photographic library. Images gathered over many years of exploring and travelling with his wife, Janet, who shares his quests and his adventures. Images he considers his personal best and a book that has taken four and a half years to bring to fruition.

Gerald Cubitt is a very English gentleman. Beautifully spoken, vastly educated and with a gentle tone of voice and phrase, one might be forgiven for mistaking him for an Oxbridge don who had spent a cloistered life in academia. It takes a moment or two to recognise the adventurer behind the donnish image, the man that loves the wilderness and is happiest when camping in the bush. I have come to interview the man behind the book, and to tell his tale. The tale of one of the world's leading natural history photographers.

Educated at Ampleforth College in England and then at Trinity College in Dublin where he read Modern History and Political Science, he developed a passion for photography while still a student. Holidays were spent travelling extensively about the Middle East, indulging his fascination with Byzantine and Islamic architecture capturing images with his Zeiss Ikon camera, a pre-war model camera given to him by his father. He graduated to a Rolleiflex camera that he had bought from his brother and then, in the early 70's, the apotheosis of camera possession , a Hasselblad Camera System. He tells me of this amazing Swedish camera with German lenses that was the first to record images of the moon.

It is important to remember that this was the era before digital photography and computer imaging. Wonderful transparencies that he has neatly arranged and catalogued, document the story of his photographic years using the Hasselblad camera system. All his career he has used a medium format (6cm x 6cm) instead of the commonly used 35 mm format. He still uses a film camera, the Hasselblad Camera System, that produces the amazingly sharp and clear images that affirm the remarkable talent of this man. He explains that he can always adapt his images to a digital format and so remain in tune with the demands of a highly technical world.

Life took him to Kenya where he, in his words, 'discovered the magic of Africa.' Ultimately, he was able to heed the call of Africa and he and his wife settled in Cape Town. Africa was never going to be his only hunting ground, however, and his 30 books are testament to his travels to far-off and exotic places. Wonderful images of National Parks in Thailand, Indonesia and Malaysia have filled volumes. In the 'Wild' series: 'Wild New Zealand', 'Wild India',: Wild Indonesia: The Wildlife and Scenery of the Indonesian Archipelago', 'Wild Thailand' and 'Wild Malaysia,' are just some of the fascinating titles. The South African R10 note shows an etching of a rhino. This etching was taken from one of Gerald Cubitt's pictures.

'Evocative Africa: Ventures of Discovery' encapsulates Gerald Cubitt's African Odyssey. He talks of his search for the "quintessential essence of Africa" and this book beautifully and masterfully shows how brilliantly he has succeeded. From the beginning, one is amazed. A mighty lion contemplates the setting sun, Kenyan dancers move to an ancient rhythm, a Madagascan lemur appears wide-eyed and startled and Reed Cormorants roost on the remains of a drowned forest in Lake Kariba. African colour, African light. The scene is set and we travel onwards, drawn into the marvel and majesty of sub-Saharan Africa.

First, the Cape Peninsula in the Western Cape. A vision of Table Mountain taken from Blaauwberg Beach. Fresh morning colours, with seabirds standing patiently on the sand awaiting the ocean's bounty. And always the mountain! The magnetic heart of all the Cape's people. Onwards through the Western Cape, the wine lands and mountains, up the Garden Route to the Eastern Cape, Transkei and into KwaZulu Natal. The Northern Areas and then on to the Kruger National Park. All through Zimbabwe, Mozambique, Malawi and Madagascar and on to Northern Tanzania and some never to be seen again shots of Kilimanjaro. Pictures of glaciers and snow and ice formations that are now forever gone. Man has done his worst and global warming has destroyed the white splendour. Legendary glaciers that have graced the highest summit of Mount Kilimanjaro for 12,000 years will have disappeared by 2020, if the present rate of devastation continues. The pictures are unforgiving. The effect, terrifying!

The colours of Kenya and then a leap to Botswana and the mighty Okovango. Botswana , where there is a stunning shot of a giraffe almost bending double to drink from the Savuti Channel and where the Baobab trees look like headless ogres. On to Namibia, its people, animals and wonderful skies and where the Herero women look like huge tea cosies, all plump and colourful and beautiful. The ship wrecks on the Skeleton Coast and the unforgiving desert remain as stark reminders of nature's cruel victories over man and his endeavours. The Kalahari and The Cape West Coast Region are in magnificent contrast and finally, we find ourselves back in the Western Cape. Now Table Mountain photographed from Sunset Beach, Milnerton, is an evening mountain. The sea reflects the colours of the setting sun and the gulls are very still waiting for the night. The journey is over.

Accompanying the pictures is superb text by Benni Hotz who is also responsible for the design of the book. He has been in graphic design for almost three decades and works out of his own Cape Town based studio. Benni and Gerald have enjoyed previous design collaborations. 'Evocative Africa' was a very close collaboration and required years of work.

Onwards! Gerald is working on a new book which would display the best of his work in South and South East Asia. He has published many books on this wonderfully exotic part of our planet and his vast photographic library is bursting with images waiting to be brought to life again. It will echo the concept of 'Evocative Africa: Ventures of Discovery'. A compilation of his work in South and South East Asia and images he considers his personal best. A rare treat awaits us.

"My endeavour behind 'Evocative Africa' has been to reach below the negative perceptions of Africa that are so prevalent today to reveal the real enduring character, mystery and soul of this amazing continent". Gerald Cubitt.

Evocative Africa is published by Clifton Publications and Gerald Cubitt.

Website for Evocative Africa : www.evocativeafrica.co.za

Website for work of Gerald Cubitt: www.agpix.com/cubitt

Portfolio of African Portraits

Hex River Valley

Elephants and Buffalo at the Caterpillar Park in Hwange National Park, Zimbabwe

Giraffe Drinking at the Savuti Channel, Chobe National Park, Botswana.

Okovango Delta, Botswana

Aerial View of Central Namib Desert, Namibia.

Lion in the Kalahari Desert in the Kgalagadi National Park.

Scotty's Revisited

2011-10-30T17:17:00.007+02:00

Almost a year ago to the day, I wrote a review of a new restaurant in Plettenberg Bay, Scotty's Restaurant and Bar. Now, one year on, I can happily report that Scotty's is alive and very well. Chef Extraordinaire, Scott Rattray, is still producing the wonderful food that had everyone talking. The restaurant buzzes with a growing following of dedicated lovers of good food.

It was with eager anticipation that Eugene and I returned to Scotty's. Andy Gibor, Scott's lady and life partner, met us on the steps of the restaurant and ushered us in. How lovely to be back! All the tables have a sheet of shiny white paper covering the top of a white linen table cloth. On the paper is inscribed the names of the lucky souls that will inhabit the table and a warm message of welcome. We were shown to our favourite table and confronted with the lovely greeting, 'Welcome Back to Scotty's Les and Eugene.' Each table is adorned with a ceramic Scotty dog and I am sure that ours was wagging its tail.

What strikes one first is how fresh, crisp and pristine everything looks. There is nothing tired about this lovely place. I am told that the restaurant was closed for two weeks in August and that the staff turned the place inside out doing a spring clean. The result, snowy white linen tablecloths, huge linen napkins and glasses twinkling in the firelight. Polished floor tiles, spotless kitchen equipment and everything bright and ready for another year.

The staff wear their bright red tee shirts proudly. It is clear that everyone takes enormous pride in their status at Scotty's. Scotty tells me with enormous satisfaction that he still has the staff that he started with 19 months ago. Everyone has mellowed and developed into their roles. Sonwabile, who started as scullery staff, is now developing into a fine cook.   Mnikelo, Miseka and Yvonne are superb waiting staff. Wonderfully friendly, knowledgeable and with amazing memories for faces and names, they put all the snooty and uncaring examples of their trade to shame.

Scott and Andy are the heartbeat of the restaurant. Of Scottish descent, Scott, who was classically trained in Europe in the kitchens of the great chefs, met Andy, child of Africa.   Scott produces the wonderful food that has us all salivating and Andy fills the roles of administrator, front of house person, waitress and whatever else is required of this talented lady with a wicked sense of humour. Theirs is a great alliance.

The menu at Scotty's changes twice a day every day. We would hurry in bursting to find out what was for dinner. There is a selection of delicious tapas starters which can be a meal in themselves. 'Mains' include about six items, which cater for everyones gastronomic preferences. And then the exquisite 'Mini-Desserts'. These are beautifully constructed treats such as my favourite, 'Lemon meringue pie in a glass'; Eugene's favourite, Belgian chocolate mousse; a divine crème brulee; a blueberry and rose wine jelly and strawberries, meringue and cream. The portions at Scotty's are generous and Scotty and Andy found that many people could not do justice to a big dessert, hence the brilliant concept of a 'mini'.

On our first evening back at Scotty's, Eugene and I selected six tapas dishes as starters. We wanted everything. Eugene chose free range chicken curry, basmati rice, poppadom & sambals for a main course and I ordered grilled hake, lemon butter sauce, steamed potatoes and broad beans. It should be mentioned that the bread at Scotty's is always very special and always homemade. That evening, we were treated to a delicious olive focaccia.   We had ordered enough food for an army. A gentle suggestion from Andy and we renegotiated our order.

The chicken curry was fragrant and delicious. Scott blends his selection of herbs and spices to produce a wonderfully tasty and aromatic dish. My fish was succulent and flavoursome, complemented beautifully by the delicate lemon butter. We washed all this lovely food down with a bottle of La Motte Sauvignon Blanc. Remarkably, we still found room for our favourite mini desserts. We had eaten like kings.

There were many more wonderful meals at Scotty's. One evening I enjoyed a Tagine of chicken and Eugene raved about his dish of penne pasta tossed in a sauce of smoked trout, lemon and spinach. Another time Eugene tucked into delicious braised beef in red wine and I totally adored grilled fresh tuna in the style of Nicoise, garnished with olives, anchovy, tomato, green beans, potato and poached quail egg. Oh my, oh my! All so delicious and perfectly prepared. The people of Plettenberg Bay are indeed fortunate.

Scott's approach is to let the customer guide him. He dislikes the term 'signature dish' but concedes that there are certain favourites. The carnivores adore his steaks and burgers and the vegetarians demand his vegetarian risottos. Eugene and I simply love everything. Another of the treats at Scotty's Restaurant and Bar are the wine dinners. Here Scott allows his classical training full rein and treats his customers to examples of his 'fine dining' expertise, paired with wines from selected estates. Scott and Andy do extensive wine tastings resulting in a well chosen wine cellar.

'Fresh Ideas' is a lovely deli attached to the restaurant. Here one can find relishes, sauces, pestos and exotic chutneys all prepared in Scotty's kitchen. There are takeaway meals, homemade icecreams and all sorts of tasty treats. This deli is a lovely addition to the Plettenberg Bay food scene.

At the moment Scotty's is open from Wednesday to Sunday from 9.30am until 10.30 pm. In December and January they will be open 7 days a week. Scott is always in his kitchen producing his wonderful food and is ably assisted by Delvin Reck, who has just won the Sunday Times 'Kitchen Stalwart of the Year' award. The team at Scotty's has earned its colours. Scotty's Restaurant and Bar is the 'must go to' destination for food
lovers in Plettenberg Bay.

Booking is advisable for dinner, especially from October until the Easter Weekend.

Tel: 044 533 4945
email: scottys@fresh-ideas.co.za
Address: 82 Longships Drive, Plettenberg Bay

Back Chat suggests that you read the first review of Scotty's Restaurant & Bar. It directly follows this latest review.

Eugene and I love eating out and we always pay for ourselves whenever and wherever we go.

Scotty's Restaurant & Bar

2011-10-30T17:10:00.001+02:00

Hey, all you special people who love food and are habitués of Plettenberg Bay, there is a new restaurant in town, Scotty's Restaurant & Bar. This is something special.

Scotty's opened its doors on June 11th 2010, the first day of the World Cup. It has been full or nearly full ever since. The locals have embraced it and visitors are beating a path to its door. On a very recent trip to Plett, Eugene and I ate there four times in a week.

Scott Rattray and his lady, Andy Gibor, are the owners of this gem of a place. Scott is the chef extraordinaire and weaver of culinary spells and Andy is the administrator, front of house person, waitress, in short, everything else. Theirs is a great chemistry; this is the bedrock of their success.

Of Scottish heritage, Scott gained a diploma in hotel management at Norwich. After a stint in Ireland, he moved on to work for Ian MacAndrew, chef and author of cookbooks on poultry, game and fish. MacAndrew recognised the potential of this young man and eventually sent him to Claridges in London to learn and experience the discipline and regimen that professional cooking requires.

Africa called and he heeded the call. Having visited Africa with the English television chef, Keith Floyd, he returned to Africa and worked at Londolozi Game Reserve, creating delectable food for people on safari. For some years he moved around Sub-Saharan Africa, opening lodges. In 2004, when establishing a lodge at Phinda, he met Andy who was a game ranger there. Yes, a game ranger! You know, one of those fascinating people who understand the dangers of wild animals, drive jeeps through the bush wearing khaki gear and carrying rifles. I bet she looked wonderful.

Their journey has taken them to Plettenberg Bay where they live on a smallholding. They grow wonderful fresh produce, much of which they use in the restaurant. Their restaurant exudes informality, yet at night there are crisp white linen cloths and napkins on the tables. Echoes of a candlelit meal at a special lodge in the African bush? Covering just the top of the table is a sheet of white paper. 'Welcome to Scotty's' or more often 'Welcome Back to Scotty's' and the names of the lucky ones who will occupy the table, is written in broad black strokes. Rather special to be a name that lives and breathes outside of a reservation book.

The day at Scotty's begins with breakfast at 9.30am. Wonderful omelettes, made the French way, i.e. not diluted with water or milk or cream, light as air and with delicious fillings; French toast with bananas and syrup, oh yum; mushrooms with brie and fresh tomatoes for the vegetarians; all sorts of English breakfast combinations and eggs in every incarnation. The excellent coffee is sourced in Cape Town by Scott's brother. Teas or hot chocolate may be your choice or fresh orange juice and of course the bread is homemade. On Sunday there is a brunch which combines all the favourites of the breakfast, lunch and dinner menus

Scott spends the mornings baking his own bread and prepping for the day ahead. I asked if he did all the cooking for all the meals and the answer was very much in the affirmative. He does not have the luxury yet of a sous chef. But he is training staff all the time and cites the example of Sonwabile who started as scullery staff. He so impressed Scott that after 6 weeks he was in the kitchen helping with the tasks that Scott assigned him. Andy, who is a dab hand in the kitchen herself, is roped in occasionally to do chopping and prepping.

The menu at Scotty's changes every day. The lunch and dinner menus are written up on blackboards and also printed on the day and handed out. Great idea as this caters for those of us who have difficulty peering at the blackboards. There is a tapas menu which includes delicious things like Risotto Balls (I adore them), grilled brinjals, white anchovies, divine salted hake and garlic fritters and much more. One can make a meal of the tapas and enjoy a light repast or combine something from the tapas menu with something from the lunch or dinner menu. We loved the choices.

The lunch menu is lighter than the dinner menu and depending on what is on the blackboard that day,one can savour an excellent mushroom risotto with baby marrow and parmesan, or beer battered hake with chips and salad and tartar sauce. Try the roasted tomato soup with goats cheese or delicious home made paninis with fries and salad. There are crisp and tasty salads full of interesting ingredients that are a meal in themselves. The portions are generous at Scotty's Restaurant & Bar.

The dinner menu also includes tapas options. Again one can choose to eat just tapas or combine them with the dinner menu. We had such wonderful meals there. I absolutely adored the chicken curry with basmati rice, salsas and poppadum. The herbs and spices were so skillfully blended that the curry was not blazingly hot, but fragrant and tasteful. Braised lamb neck in red wine, tender and falling off the bone, with mashed potato and vegetables was another memorable meal. On one occasion, Eugene enjoyed Leek and Potato Soup as a starter and another time was tempted by an excellent chicken terrine with beetroot relish and salad leaves. Succulent Roast Gurnard, prawn and prawn butter with fresh vegetables or beautifully tender grilled fillet of beef with battered onion rings, roast potato and pepper sauce, are just some of the choices. Actually, one needs an extra stomach at Scotty's Restaurant & Bar.

The desserts are described as decadent and delicious and my goodness, they are!! We sampled chocolate brownies with chocolate ice cream. Divine decadence! Of course everything is homemade at this restaurant. The dessert menu includes a baked strawberry cheese cake, wonderful ice cream and sorbets and a crème brûlée that sings on your palate.

Scotty's has a full bar and a very good wine list. Wine is available by the glass and I enjoyed a sauvignon blanc house wine from the excellent Leopard's Leap vineyards. I found myself happily drinking 2 or 3 glasses. Eugene drank either a house red or a Peroni beer. Somehow on holiday one's capacity for food and drink is exponentially increased.

Andy and her serving staff all wear red t-shirts and long white aprons. Red is a dominant colour at Scotty's and one wall is painted the same warm colour. I loved the red stylised pictures of cats which adorn one corner of the restaurant. On a cold night, a fire crackles in the grate and mirrors reflect the candlelight and enhance the warmth and friendliness of this lovely place. There is a bar at the back of the restaurant where guests can have a drink before their meal or simply choose to sit there and enjoy some tapas. In summer one will be able to sit outside and eat alfresco.

Scott and Andy are preparing to open a deli next to the restaurant, marvellously named 'Fresh Ideas', packed with homemade products to take away. Exotic chutneys, relishes and pestos, their own seasoning salt, ice creams, ready meals and much more. There is no end to the talent and possibilities that exist for these two dedicated young foodies.

Scott has just come second in the 'Sunday Times Chef Of The Year' competition. This is no mean feat. He competed against some of South Africa's finest. To qualify, they had to create African dishes from a list of 8-12 ingredients. They then submitted photographs and all menu details and waited for the judges to decide whether they would be chosen to go to Johannesburg and compete in the finals.

Scott was chosen from 48 entries to go to Johannesburg. There was a tense two-day cook-off and ultimately the final 6 had to create dishes from a mystery basket, the contents of which were two pigeons, a side of sea bream, a fennel bulb and a guava. The result, 2nd place, and the promise of great things to come for this extraordinarily talented young chef and Andy, his comrade in arms.

Every table is adorned with a black Scottie dog.

Scotty's Restaurant & Bar is open:
Wednesday to Saturday - breakfast, lunch and dinner from 9.30am to 10pm
Sunday - brunch and dinner from 9.30am to 10pm

Booking is essential.

Tel: 044 533 4945
Email: scottys@fresh-ideas.co.za
Address: 82 Longships Drive Plettenberg Bay

Eugene and I love eating out and we always pay for ourselves whenever and wherever we go.

Café Society at the Long Street Café

2011-10-10T22:41:00.024+02:00

One lovely, sunny early Spring day, Eugene and I strolled along Long Street to the iconic Long Street Café. The brightly lit and unapologetically brash cafe sign winked boldly at us as we approached. It blends so perfectly with this street that is a melting pot of all the cultures past and present that have inhabited it. Life here hums and buzzes with alacrity.

Walking through the marvellous Art Deco wooden portals, one finds a mellow, laid back scene that belies the energy and pulse that drives the LSC. We chose to sit inside as the pavement heat was too intense. Immediately, a friendly face sprang forward to welcome us and show us to a table. The menus are large laminated single sheets. We settled down to study them and to make a choice in a reasonable space of time. We are great ditherers
.

There is a large bistro/diner ( I mean diner, not dinner) style menu with choices of lighter dishes for lunch and heartier options for bigger appetites or for dinner. I love the exact descriptions of the salads and the sandwiches. You can choose from a selection of burgers served with fries, coleslaw and onion rings, pastas, pizzas from the bright pink pizza oven or light meals that include deep fried calamari, fish cakes and nachos and 'mains' that are more fulsome. A deli platter of tapas and a meat platter are available to munch on and enjoy with drinks before a meal, or maybe that will be your meal. Breakfast is served from 9.30 am until noon and includes a full English breakfast, omelettes and muesli, again with detailed descriptions of all the ingredients.

Where to begin? Eventually, Eugene chose the LSC burger and I settled for a Thai Chicken Wrap from the 'Mains' section. Sadly, I cannot eat highly spiced food, so I discussed the possibility of a less spicy Thai sauce. No problem! We ordered soft drinks in spite of a wonderful selection of beers, cocktails, liqueurs and much more. The drinks menu is on the reverse of the menu. There is a small but carefully chosen wine list and I was delighted to see that all the wines are also available by the glass.

While we waited for our food, Eugene gazed at the beautiful people and I went exploring. The space is large, but not cavernous. It is an Art Deco tribute to the restaurant's long and distinguished past. It is estimated that the building is about 100 years old and previously other benevolent spirits occupied it. Cranfords Book Shop was once located here, but has since moved further down the street. I love the Art Deco and Victorian graciousness that the decor presents. One can choose to sit at one of the many round or square tables with highly polished wooden tops, bar stools at window ledges or in a comfortable upholstered chair in one of the cosy corner sections. I spotted many people tapping away on their laptops and ipads. Of course, there is free wifi in this establishment. Wooden floors and a red and black colour scheme echoed by the waiting staff's outfits, complete the picture of a diner or deli cum bistro of days gone by. Oh yes, standing proudly and defiantly on all the tables are bottles of tomato ketchup. Again shades of another time and place.

There is a well-stocked bar with a long wooden counter where you might sit while waiting for a table. Pillars with large wooden framed mirrors break the room into smaller sections. The lights and chandeliers are Tiffany styled and reflect a warm comforting glow. One of my favourite bits of eccentricity is the upholstered red velvet throne, cheekily placed in one of the windows and affording a wonderful view of the goings on outside. And for that matter, a princely seat for outsiders looking in, to gawk at. One can watch the kitchen staff beavering away in the open plan kitchen. Everyone wears protective hair nets and the equipment is a picture of cleanliness and orderliness. Large industrial extractors ensure that there is no smell of food preparation escaping into the restaurant area.

The food arrived and we got stuck in with gusto. The legend on the menu describes the Long Street Café Burger as 'homemade ground beef, lettuce, tomato and gherkin and mayo on a fresh bun'. The beef patty was beautifully cooked, just on the right side of medium, as Eugene had requested. It is a large patty on an even larger bun. The chips, or fries as they are described on the menu, are the best I have ever tasted. Lovely crisp coleslaw and onion rings made up a plate of delicious food. My Thai Chicken Wrap was just lovely. Not too spicy, as I had requested, and filled with chicken fillet slices and julienne vegetables. I made short work of my portion of fries. Normally I push chips to one side or give them to Eugene. Not this time! And that is where the tomato ketchup became the condiment of choice.

Long Street Café is open every day of the week from 9.30am till late. There is a 'Happy Hour' everyday and on Tuesday, Happy Hour is all day. A programme of events and specials for each day of the week is written on a blackboard. It all looks like fun and that is what this place is all about. Fun, good food and a happy untroubled interlude in a hassle-free environment.

Telephone: 021 424 2464
email: longstreetcafe@axxess.co.za
Address: 259 Long Street, Cape Town.

Eugene and I love eating out and we always pay for ourselves whenever and wherever we go.

Newport Mansions, Robber Barons and the Best Clam Chowder in Town.

2011-09-30T16:13:00.015+02:00

The New England Diaries

Each day in New England brought a new adventure. Robin and James had a treasure trove of surprises and wonders that they revealed to us like wizards conjuring up magic. This day we would drive to Newport, Rhode Island and visit one of the mansions of the 'Gilded Age' and then, having feasted our eyes and minds on the excesses of that extraordinary period, we would lunch at 'The Black Pearl Restaurant'. The legendary Black Pearl Restaurant, where clam chowder is an art form and where the feast would be gastronomic and most certainly excessive.

Our numbers at Seekonk had swelled with the arrival of cousins Michele and Barry from North Carolina. The beautiful house opened up its arms and welcomed them. We were a happy brood and James' cooking pots got bigger and busier. But now we were off to Newport.

Newport is a fascinating place. Famed as a New England summer resort, it has fabulous beach cottages along the Atlantic Ocean coastline. Of course, the cottages are actually mansions of huge and lavish proportions. At the turn of the 20th century the nation's wealthiest families would summer at Newport. Captains of Industry, the great capitalists and even the romantic sounding 'Robber Barons' built pleasure palaces with a total disregard for cost and oft times, taste. On a whim, whole rooms would be constructed in Europe with the best Italian marble and finest European materials and then shipped to Newport and reassembled. And to these gilded mansions, the families would arrive to spend a brief and glittering time, returning only the following season.

We were visiting The Breakers, the summer 'cottage' built for Cornelius Vanderbilt, the grandson of Commodore C. Vanderbilt. Described as a Renaissance Revival summer palace, it was built to replace a wooden 'cottage' that had burnt to the ground. The architect, Richard Morris Hunt, was commissioned to draw his inspiration from the Italian seaside palazzos of Genoa and Turin. Cornelius Vanderbilt demanded that the building be completed in two years and, amazingly, it was! Hundreds of the world's finest craftsmen working tirelessly, completed the 70 - room mansion on time.

We were overwhelmed by outrageous opulence from the moment we stepped into the Great Hall. This remarkable space is two stories high with magnificent views of the ocean through French doors opening out onto the loggia. All marble, marble everywhere! Guests would be greeted here, their hosts probably drifting down the sweeping staircase that descends majestically from the floors above. Just imagine the grand entrances that were made, gowns rustling, diamonds flashing and society all a-quiver!

We hired head phones with a tour commentary and wandered on into the dining room. Oh my goodness, calling it a 'dining room' is really quite comical and in no way describes this sumptuous room. It is also two stories high and nearly as large as the Great Hall. Red alabaster columns, wonderful ornamental work, glorious crystal chandeliers and lovely plump stone cherubs provide a back drop for this extraordinary 'dining room'. I imagine that nobody would think it odd if there were a hundred people to dinner on any given night.

I found the music room fascinating and alluring. Designed and built in Paris, it was dismantled and shipped to Newport for reassembly. Fashioned after the style of the of French Opera and other beautiful French buildings, it is fabulously decorated.. Crimson French cut-velvet upholstery, gilded chairs and sweeping swags of heavy velvet and brocade curtains create a wonderful theatricality. The great and the good of the music world performed there to be enjoyed by 'tout le monde' or simply just the family.

I was very intrigued by the fact that the Breakers, for all its splendour, was very much a family home. They spent a full 6 months of the year in Newport. The family rooms on the upper floors of the house were designed for maximum comfort. All the bedrooms had en suite bathrooms with hot and cold running fresh and salt water. Salt water was considered hugely therapeutic. There were speaker phones that connected directly with the servants who would scurry along narrow servant's corridors designed especially for them to move about unseen, yet wide enough to carry a tray.

The family quarters were designed by Ogden Codman, a friend of Edith Wharton. In her 1920 novel, The Age Of Innocence, Wharton writes of the social scene in New York and Newport at the turn of the century. She won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction with this novel and so became the first woman to win the illustrious prize. She had a 'cottage' at Newport called 'Land's End'. So much history and so many tales to tell!

We wandered out onto the magnificent lawns that sweep down to the sea. There is a bond between the house and the ocean. The lawns and the changing colours of the sea echo the cool colours of the interior and every aspect of the home commands a view of the sea. It all is quite breathtaking.

Lunchtime and The Black Pearl was beckoning. We had all heard so much about this very famous restaurant and were famished. The Black Pearl is at Bannisters Wharf in Newport. Once a sail loft and a machine shop, it was built in the 1920's. A certain Barclay H. Warburton 111 (what a wonderful name) transformed it into a restaurant in 1967. He named it after his brigantine rig, The Black Pearl. In the early 70's it was sold and refurbished and has remained in the same family all these years.

We had chosen to eat in the area of the restaurant called The Tavern. There were people eating outside at the Waterside Patio but the sun was baking down and we sought shelter in the cool. We were shown to a lovely round table and settled down to feast. We all ordered clam chowder, either by the cup or the bowl. To follow, we ordered steamed lobsters, except Barry who ordered a seared tuna dish. The waiters and waitresses were friendly and seemed tireless. Back and forth they went, always smiling and always getting the order right.

The decor includes lots of polished wood and brass, reminiscent of the interior of sail ships of old. So romantic. The Commodore's Room is another dining room. Here one would dress for dinner and dine off fine china and use real silver. The menu is posh, but it certainly includes Clam Chowder!

Our chowder arrived and we all became very silent. It was the best clam chowder I had ever eaten. I had been eating this famous soup at every opportunity in New England, but this was food for the gods. We were all of one mind and ate our soup with the attention and reverence it deserved. The recipe for this version of clam chowder is as secret as the coca cola recipe. James has been researching for years trying to discover the secret of The Black Pearl. In his lovely 'Email From America #3' on Back Chat, he tells of his search and how he eventually found the combination of ingredients that satisfied him. He gives the recipe for those who are as ardent as he is about the perfect dish. Check it out under the section 'Email From America'.

Then the steamed lobsters. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight of the huge bright red lobster that was placed before me. It was larger than the plate. Garnished simply with lemon and a bowl of melted butter, it was a sight to behold. Some people actually order two of these giants and manage to eat them. The flesh was sweet and succulent and plentiful. The taste is different from the taste of steamed crayfish, which we as South Africans know and love. The remarkable thing is that there is no danger of the lobsters being fished out. They are there in abundance. Hallelujah!

We had eaten our fill. We had feasted royally and left that lovely place pledging to return again and again. A walk along the curve of the cliffs that hug the shoreline of the Atlantic Ocean and which afford views of more splendid villas and 'cottages' cleared our heads and eased our digestion. It was time to start home, but first a drive around Newport. Much to see and most interestingly, we came across the Touro Synagogue, the oldest synagogue in America. Over two centuries old, it stands as a symbol of America's dedication to religious freedom and personal liberty. John Kennedy, in a speech he gave shortly before he was assassinated, said of Touro Synagogue, 'It (Touro) is not only the oldest synagogue in America but also one of the oldest symbols of liberty.'

That evening, James prepared a barbecue. We would have steaks, corn on the cob and salads on the patio and enjoy the cool of the evening, good wine, wonderful company and as ever, superb
food. How on earth did we manage to eat again that evening?

Photographs of the Breakers Great Hall, the Breakers Dining Room and the Breakers Music Room courtesy of the Preservation Society of Newport County

Overture And Bertus Basson

2011-09-11T12:42:00.029+02:00

Perched high in the Helderberg Mountains on the Hidden Valley Wine Estate near Stellenbosch in the Western Cape, there is a special place. To reach this place requires one to motor up a not too steep winding road Suddenly, around one of the bends in the road, is the sight of a building of stone, glass and steel which appears to rise miraculously from a magnificent flurry of fynbos This is the mountain home of Overture Restaurant and the lair of the man that inhabits it, Chef Bertus Basson.

Overture presides over the Stellenbosch valley, glancing this way and that and where, on a fine day, you can see forever. Parking one's car is a simple matter, as the parking area has been levelled. A short walk up a gentle, paved slope and one is at the entrance of the restaurant. A spacious cool interior with high ceilings
and huge windows draws one in. Immediately one is struck by the efficiency and courtesy of the staff. How lovely to be greeted by a friendly welcoming smile and none of the cold hauteur of reception staff that has become the signature of so many restaurants and eateries.

We were shown to our table outside under a pergola-covered extension of the restaurant. The space is beautifully arranged so as to allow everyone access to the breathtaking view and a feeling of intimacy within one's own space. The chairs are spacious and comfortably upholstered and the tables, beautifully dressed, with gold cloths sweeping the ground and sparkling white embossed linen covers. Wooden rectangles serve as side plates, covered for the moment, with large embossed linen napkins. Shining glasses standing to attention tease one with the promise of the wines to come.

We were settled and made to feel cosseted and special by the charming young woman who was to be our waitress. A lovely touch, a glass of bubbles arrived at the table, Boschendal Brut Rose, which we sipped while we perused the menu. The menu offers all sorts of possibilities. One can order each dish with a matching wine, or simply order any wine you like, if you like. There are the options of a 4 or 5 Course Chef's Menu and even an 8 Course Tasting Menu. However, Eugene and I decided to make random choices and to order without any particular grouping. What a quandary! We wanted everything!

Eventually, after lengthy discussion, we settled on a shared starter described as 'Variations of Beetroot, beetroot and cumin ice cream, balsamic onion'. To follow, I ordered 'Tomato Ravioli, aubergine, basil, Parmesan, olive,' and Eugene, 'Pickled Ox Tongue with gnocchi, mustard, roots'. It all sounds so wonderful. Then, as if that was not enough, from the 3rd section of the menu, Eugene chose 'Confit of lamb shoulder with pumpkin, gem squash, sage and pomme cocotte' and I decided to try 'Rooibos smoked hake with creamed pearl barley, prawns and parsnips'. Oh my, oh my! To round off this feast we would share 'Tannie Hetta's apple tart, caramel sauce and vanilla ice cream.'

Beautifully presented homemade bread arrived, rosemary and garlic focaccio and coriander ciabbata. These were accompanied by a wooden board with slices of smoked ham, a small dish of garlic emulsion and a plate of tomato seeds. On a previous visit, we had enjoyed succulent chicken wings while we waited. The amuse bouche depends entirely each day on the whim of our Chef Extraordinaire. We had spotted him earlier working away in the open plan kitchen of the restaurant. Later, we would speak to him and learn more about the man and his remarkable talent.

There is a compact wine list with some available by the glass. Thembi, the sommelier, guided us through the wines. He has an abiding love and knowledge about wine. He immediately gauged which wine I would like and without any of the flummery that usually accompanies a sommelier's performance, described a wine he had chosen. He was absolutely right. Eugene was driving and therefore could only have a glass or two, but nevertheless was delighted with the wine that Thembi recommended.

Our beetroot starter was a triumph. The deep ruby and purple colours of the beetroot variations looked marvellous on a white platter. Beetroot puree, beetroot jelly, beetroot and cumin ice and pockets of beetroot filled with mustard cream cheese were garnished with Parmesan shavings and feathery crostinis. Imagine the humble beetroot being the main player in such an elegant dish. We loved it and unashamedly mopped it all up with our lovely bread. There was no letdown in the dishes that followed. They were all superb. My tomato ravioli were delicate and delicious and Eugene's picled ox tongue dish was a marvellous medley of tastes.

Onwards and there were new delights in store. The Rooibos smoked hake was succulent and unctuous. Eugene pronounced the confit lamb shoulder as excellent and of course I tasted it. Braised potatoes with thyme cream in a small wooden bowl was served as an accompaniment for the lamb. Tannie Hetta's apple tart is Bertus' mother's recipe and it is all that an old family recipe should be. There was the apple tart beautifully marooned in the centre of the plate surrounded by caramel sauce and a really divine, of course homemade, vanilla ice cream. A Lucullan feast! Oh, and in between the main course and the dessert a mischievously light palate cleanser of strawberry puree and fromage blanc.

Another absolutely outstanding feature of the Overture is the service. Smiling, knowledgeable and in spite of having to deal with a full restaurant, always at one's elbow clearing plates, filling glasses and generally making the experience a wonderfully relaxed and untrammelled affair. There is an air of pride in their work which adds to the lustre of the encounter. Christina van Niekert is the restaurant manager and Helene Lawley is Bertus' PA and right hand. All these different parts add up to a whole that works beautifully
and seamlessly.

Meeting the man, Bertus Basson, is to realise that the chef and the man are indivisible. Food is his passion and his raison d'etre. Charming and easy to talk to, he shares his story with me. He and his business and culinary partner Craig Cormack, opened Overture in 2007. Both award winning chefs, they had established a company, 'All Things Culinary'. Besides a catering arm, they have also indulged their love of the craft and the art by teaching junior chefs at various cooking schools in the Western Cape. Two restaurants were designed, styled and launched by these two hightly gifted young men and they have their own wine label, Collaboration, a chenin blanc. In 2010, Craig and Bertus opened opened another restaurant, Sofia, at Morgenster, which Craig has made his main focus and signature restaurant. Bertus presides over Overture, bringing all his very considerable energy and massive talent to bear.

He talks of his childhood, learning the love of cooking from his mother and grandmother. He honed his skills working in kitchens in South Africa and abroad and is always travelling and absorbing the tastes and smells and secrets of different cuisines. He runs Overture with driving resolve. Menus change daily, as fresh produce is the only currency in which he deals and whatever the market yields on the day. He does all his own butchering and has a cold room where he can store his meat. No vacuum packed cuts for this chef. Fish is cleaned on the premises and enjoyed by his guests on the same day as it is caught. Naturally all the bread is homemade.

He regaled us with stories of his dinner parties at his home for his friends. He described a cassoulet that he was serving to his friends that evening. Goodness, it almost brought tears to my eyes. Laughingly he describes how the restaurant, in his words, 'eats girlfriends'. His most enduring relationship is with his beloved dog, Patat, a rescue dog of very mixed origin. Oh wow, I wonder if Patat eats cassoulet?

Bertus has a mantra that a restaurant should restore mind, body, soul and stomach. He succeeds wonderfully.

p.s. Patat is the Afrikaans word for Sweet Potato.

Overture is open for lunch: Tuesday to Sunday from 12 noon.
    dinner: Thursday and Friday from 7 pm.

Booking Is Essential

Telephone:    021 880 2721
email:    info@dineatoverture.co.za
Web:            www.dineatoverture.co.za

Eugene and I love eating out and we always pay for ourselves whenever and wherever we go

The New England Diaries

2011-08-24T22:38:00.027+02:00

Eugene and I spent 3 glorious weeks savouring the delights of New England, this north eastern corner of the United States. We ate the most superb clam chowder, enjoyed the delights of lobster in all its incarnations and, of course, homemade blueberry pie.

We visited quaint seaside villages and huge bustling modern cities with such tall skyscrapers that one fears that they will topple over. We saw houses built hundreds of years ago and museums and galleries with art that made one weep with joy.

Join Back Chat's New England Romp and experience the wondrous sights and sounds of the cities and the villages; the mouth-watering tastes of food in dockside restaurants and grand food in grand establishments. Love it as much as we did.

This first story is about our introduction to New England, Massachusetts to be precise. I tell of our visit to the home of the poet Emily Dickinson in Amherst and of course our immediate love affair with the food of New England.

I would love to know how you enjoyed your first taste of New England. Do write to me at les@leslieback.co.za or leave a comment on the blog. I look forward to hearing from you.

We arrived at Boston Logan International Airport, relaxed, excited and blissfully untroubled by the inescapable excesses of security precautions in an age of fear and paranoia. Robin, Eugene's son and my wondrous adopted kin, scooped us up and whisked us away to the beautiful home that he shares with his life partner, James, in Seekonk, Massachusetts, a suburb of Providence, Rhode Island. For the next 22 days, Eugene and I were treated to the ride of our lives. Robin and James wove an astonishing tapestry of experience and sensation that warmly and snugly enfolded us.

The First Baptist Church In America

James transforms cooking, even the simplest and most basic foods, into one of the finest arts. On our arrival as weary travellers, he prepared a meal that made our palates and our hearts sing. Cioppino with Mahi-mahi! This extraordinary seafood dish, much like a seafood soup, was made even more unctuous and delicious with the inclusion of Mahi-mahi. For the uninitiated, as we certainly were, mahi-mahi is a superb sweet tasting firm white fish much enjoyed in the United States and beyond. What a meal! We ate every last bit, mopping up any remaining soup with delicious homemade crusty bread and washing it down with a crisp white wine from our cousin's vineyards faraway in Paarl, South Africa. Perhaps it is more traditional to drink red wine with this dish, but our hosts gallantly indulged my penchant for a good sauvignon blanc. In the days to come, we would discover that whenever we ate dinner at home, it would always be a special eating experience; a party of our very own.

We soon settled into a pattern of striking out during the day and then returning to Seekonk in the evening to rest, refresh our minds and bodies and to eat James' wonderful food Distance seemed to leave our hosts completely unfazed, so occasionally we packed overnight cases and spent a night away from Seekonk as James and Robin drove us across New England and beyond.

Oh the excitement when it was decided that we would visit the town of Amherst in Western Massachusetts! The wonderful American poet, Emily Dickinson,was born in the family homestead in Amherst and spent most of her life there. I had just read Lyndall Gordon's definitive work on Emily Dickinson, 'Lives Like Loaded Guns'. A visit to the home of the poet would be something of a pilgrimage. Robin is scheduled to begin a PHD programme at the University of Massachusetts Amherst or UMass Amherst as it is popularly known and we were looking forward to seeing his student world. We would stay the night at an hotel, entirely run by students of the Hotel School on the campus of UMass. What a catalogue of excitements!

The day of our visit to Amherst dawned with heavy rain and oppressive humidity. Undaunted, Robin and James hurried us into the car and we set off with Eugene and I somewhat bemused by the ease with which they just take off. First a detour to visit the Paradise City Fine and Functional Arts fair in Northampton. Beautiful scenery, a comfortable ride and fun company made for a very easy journey. We wandered around the stalls at the fair enjoying all the diverse cultural contributions. We came away with a glorious hand painted wooden salad bowl. I loved the design and the colours; green with lovely plump purple plums luring one's eye to the centre of the bowl.

Onwards to Amherst. This lovely university town was peaceful and quiet. Soon the students would return from their vacations and reawaken the town with the sounds of their bustling lives. Meanwhile, we enjoyed the stillness and grabbed the opportunity to drive around the sprawling campus. We visited Robin's student digs, a quaint flat, beautifully arranged to allow him the perfect place to immerse himself in academia. Then the much longed for visit to Emily Dickinson's home.

We presented ourselves at the doorway of the Homestead. There was a genteel slightly musty atmosphere and immediately I was transported with delight. Everything was as I had imagined it would be. We arranged a guided tour with a charming young female docent. She was soft-spoken and slightly fey and in my opinion, just enough of a blue stocking to preserve the illusion of that other time and season when Emily Dickinson lived and worked there, sequestered from the outside world in her second floor eyrie.

There was Emily's white dress in a glass case on the landing, her bedroom and the small table near a window where she wrote for hours on end. Her books, some papers and anything that remained after most of the memorabilia and papers was sent to various university libraries and archives, were strategically placed to create the atmosphere a sanctuary. I felt a tangible presence and sensation of her. It has been told that a ghostly figure in a long white dress has been seen wandering the halls. I wonder if she would stop and talk if one encountered her.

In the same grounds as the Homestead, is 'The Evergreens' a home built by Emily's father for his son, Austin and his wife Susan. A path, "just wide enough for two who love" links the two homes. We strolled across to The Evergreens, a fashionable Italianate building, that had seen so much life and drama. Austin and Susan led very public lives. Stalwarts of society, they had immersed themselves in academic, cultural and civic affairs. Until Austin met and fell in love with Mabel Loomis Todd! The saga of that love affair and of the havoc it wrought, coloured the lives of the Dickinson family for generations. The house is silent now. The path is deserted and the feuds are buried with the antagonists, but the history remains.

When we emerged from The Evergreens, our docent bade us farewell and we went off to sit on a stone bench in the beautifully landscaped garden. My gentlemen companions were distinctly underwhelmed by the whole experience. They found it dusty and musty and not at all magical. Perhaps a stop at our hotel to refresh and change and then on to dinner would improve their jaundiced view of the world.

The Gardens At The Homestead

Lunch In The Library At The Cape Grace

2011-07-24T21:31:00.011+02:00

Entering the elegant and gracious Cape Grace Hotel at the V&A waterfront in Cape Town is a gloriously soothing experience. The doorman's welcome has the quality of old fashioned courtesy and the cool and peaceful interior further enhances the moment. Beautiful furniture, exquisite flower arrangements and friendly smiles gently command one's attention
.
Eugene and I love lunching in the Library at the Cape Grace Hotel. This lovely room, full of antique Cape furniture and marvellously overstuffed sofas and chairs that almost enfold you, provides a perfect place to escape the vagaries of a Cape winter or the trials of a steamy summer. We flop back into the softest sofa and allow the ambiance to embrace us.

The waiting staff appear almost noiselessly bearing menus and warm greetings. Drinks are offered and the spacious coffee table in front of each seating area is set with huge crisp linen napkins, silver cutlery and water and wine glasses. We order our drinks and take a while to peruse the menu. One is never hurried at the Cape Grace. A charming manageress, Quanita, "just call me Q, " eased our way through the experience.

The menu is a combination of light meals under the moniker; 'Fast & Fresh' and more substantial options 'Midday Mains' with a dessert section 'Sweet Surrender.' I was easily seduced by 'truffled mushroom ragout on toasted ciabatta, poached egg and pancetta' from the Fast and Fresh section. Eugene, after much dithering, chose the 'Cape Grace 'club sandwich' with grilled chicken, crispy bacon, avocado, smoked tomato mayo on home-made ciabatta'. This from the Midday Mains. On previous occasions, I have enjoyed the home-cured smoked salmon salad and Eugene has made quick work of the Cape Grace fish and chips.

There are lovely choices that really do justify a bit of dithering. The staff don't mind and with knowledge and patience help one towards a perfect choice. A soup of the day perhaps, or an interesting salad, smoked potato sweetcorn and mussel chowder, or an ostrich carpaccio. Try a 21-day aged sirloin or a barbeque beef burger from the Midday Mains menu. Confit duck and whipped potato pie sounds delicious as does roasted garlic risotto with grilled prawns, chilli and lime. There are two vegetarian options, a minted pea risotto, and a homemade tagliatelle with grilled aubergine, tomato sauce, toasted pine nuts and parmesan. While we waited, we sipped our drinks and nibbled delicious home-made bread and gazed out at the idyllic vista of yachts anchored in the Victoria and Albert marina with Table Mountain in the background. So serene, so beautiful.

It was also a moment to look around this remarkable room. Raw silk floor-to-ceiling curtains, hand painted by artisans from nearby communities with extracts from Jan van Riebeek's diary, frame the picture windows and doors. Striped walls appear to be papered, but are in fact hand painted, all the colours blending beautifully with the subtle colour of the curtains. Beautiful Cape antique furniture sits happily amongst more modern pieces. Some of the chairs have a buttoned clubby look, with other luxuriously upholstered sofas and chairs providing a softer counterpoint. Vases stuffed with proteas atop brilliantly polished surfaces vie for attention with exquisite porcelain, brass candlesticks and gleaming silver. Crystal chandeliers with china plates eccentrically placed between the diamonds, gaze imperiously down at all the goings-on below.

There is no end to the treasures. Pictures and murals echo the Cape history and heritage and the books lining the walls provide lots of wonderful tales about our beautiful 'fairest cape.' One could easily imagine Lady Anne Barnard holding salons in this oh so elegant room!

The food was superb. The truffled mushroom ragout, delicately flavoured, rich and fragrant, was served on toasted ciabatta and adorned with crispy pancetta . Two lovely plump poached eggs completed the plate. The tastes, carefully thought out, complimented each other beautifully. It was a perfect meal on a miserable winter's day. Eugene's Cape Grace 'Club Sandwich' , incidentally one of their signature dishes, was a real treat. This is not one's usual club sandwich involving multiple layers of bread. Oh no, this is a different experience altogether! Two beautifully toasted sides of bun are filled to overflowing with grilled chicken, smoky bacon, ripe, juicy avo, tomato and shredded lettuce and flavoured with an absolutely delicious smoked tomato mayonnaise. Oh my, oh my. We were both very quiet while we savoured our food.

We just had no room for dessert. The descriptions of the sweet offerings are mouth-watering. I would have loved 'baked lemon cheesecake with pineapple sorbet', but perhaps another time. The Chocolate Coffee Tart with Caramel Ice Cream sounds delicious as does the Buttermilk Panacotta. Another treat, a local artisanal cheese selection with fig preserve, crackers and cranberry rye bread was a great temptation.

There is a very comprehensive wine list and many of the wines may be enjoyed by the glass. Being an hotel, there is obviously a full bar available. I loved the legend on the drinks coaster declaring that, 'before hosting your drink, I was a menu cover.' Cape Grace recycled natural materials.

Afternoon tea in the Library is another special treat. There are different categories of afternoon tea., from the 'Cream Tea' to a more fulsome 'Afternoon Tea', a 'Deluxe Afternoon Tea' and a 'Special Occasion Tea'. If you are not terribly hungry you can enjoy a slice of one of their delicious homemade cakes. There are all sorts of savoury and traditional scones, finger sandwiches and wonderful sweet treats. Oh, and loose-leaf tea of course, or if you wish, excellent coffee.

There is a young, vital and energetic team at the Cape Grace. I chatted to the Food and Beverage Manager, Michael Liffmann. He spoke enthusiastically about his vision for the 'Library' and for 'Signal', the more formal restaurant at the Cape Grace I asked him about the genie that created the culinary treats. That genie is Executive Chef, Malika van Reenen. This passionate young cook heads the culinary team that provides all the wonderful food. Trained in Hospitality Management and with experience working in London and for local chefs including maestro Mike Bassett, she brings all her talent and inspiration to bear. Her mother and grandmother, both excellent cooks, nurtured the love of cooking in this prize-winning young chef.

In summer or on a balmy winter's day, you might enjoy sitting on the enclosed library terrace where the food and ambiance is equally lovely. Everything about the Cape Grace is lovely and handled apparently seamlessly with accomplished and consummate ease.

P.S: Parking at the Cape Grace is plentiful.

Lunch is served in the Library from 11.30am - 2.30pm
Tea is served in the library from 12 noon - 6 pm.

Telephone: +27 21 410 7100
Fax:            +27 21 419 7622
Email:    signal@capegrace.com
website: www.capegrace.com

Address:    West Quay Road
Victoria and Albert Waterfront
   Cape Town
   South Africa

Eugene and I love eating out and we always pay for ourselves whenever and wherever we go.

Interview With A Freedom Fighter.

2011-05-15T19:16:00.000+02:00

In Sea Point , a suburb of Cape Town, there is a promenade that hugs the twists and turns of the ocean. It was along this walkway that I regularly passed a blind man, sitting on a bench. Always the same bench. What struck me particularly was the innate dignity of this man. Always neatly dressed, he sat quietly opposite the ocean he could not see. A slow drawn out 'Thank you' or 'Bless you' if I dropped a coin into his white cup or proffered cap and I would be on my way, relieved that he was alive and well.

One day he was no longer there. I wondered and worried. Then a series of events unfolded. I learned that brother and sister angels, Jonno and Nicole Sherwin, had rescued him from penury and beggarhood. They had set wheels in motion that would lead him to learn a trade and thus, ultimately to a better life. Within days, photographer extraordinaire, Mia Feinstein and I were on our way to the South African Society for the Blind to meet, interview and photograph Everson Ngwenya, Liberation War Hero.

We meet in a dining and recreation room of the building that houses this amazing society. He is accompanied by his wife, Lydia and his nephew David.   It seems almost other worldly seeing 'my blind man' here. Dressed in a crisp pale blue shirt and tweed jacket, he carries himself with dignity.   We sit down together to talk about his life. It is a story of bitter hardship and distant hope. Very much an African tale.

Everson Ngwenya was born in 1960 in Northern Matabeleland, Rhodesia, of Ndebele origin.   Rhodesia was to become known as Zimbabwe on the 1st of June, 1979.   He interrupted his schooling when he was 17 to go to war to fight for a free Zimbabwe as did so many other young men of his generation.   Training a freedom fighter was a very serious business and he was sent to Moscow to learn the tools of a deadly trade. A stint in Tanzania and then he was sent to do battle as a liberation freedom fighter in the Zimbabwe People's Revolutionary Army (ZIPRA). Lydia is all the while translating for Everson. He does understand me, but I think he is far too emotional to answer in English. His anguish is all too apparent.

I ask about his blindness and he tells how he was nearly fatally injured when on a combat mission against Mugabe's ZANLA forces in Gokwe, he received a bullet to the head. The bullet fractured the front of his skull and for many weeks he lay unconscious and fighting for his life. But, miraculously, he survived and spent the next 22 years enduring painful treatment at the hands of Cuban doctors to save his diminishing sight. This battle was eventually lost and in 2000 he was declared blind.

The following years were marked by hardship, poverty and near starvation.   His wife Lydia made barely enough money as a domestic worker to feed their family.   Mugabe's brutish thugs continually harassed and threatened them. In desperation, in 2008, they fled Zimbabwe and made for South Africa and what they hoped would be a safer and better life.

The dangers in South Africa were of a different kind. Tear gas used during the xenophobic attacks in the townships caused their little girl, Anita, to develop a lung disease and she has to be cared for in St Joseph's Home. The status of asylum seekers is always perilous and a blind asylum seeker was going to find it a great deal more difficult. So this brave and gentle man was reduced to having to throw himself on the mercy of strangers and, having to withstand all weathers, in his own words become 'a humble beggar'. I asked him why he chose that particular spot and he answered quite simply that 'God had chosen that bench'.

It was there that his angels found him and subsequently relocated him to The Cape Town Society for the Blind where he is proudly enrolled in a one month course of basket weaving and life skills. He has a renewed dream of a future in which he will be able to provide for his family using the skills that he is acquiring. He describes himself as 'feeling alive again for the first time since his accident.' He has brought several baskets to the interview that he has previously made. In the course of our visit, we watch blind fingers flying around the skeletons of baskets, weaving the intricate patterns. For me, it is an epiphany of sorts, observing that there can be an almost joyous quality of life after losing one's precious eye sight.

This remarkable and tragic story resonates deeply. There are so many sad, displaced and hungry people in this melting pot of cultures and countries that is Southern Africa. One hopes and prays that there is indeed a better life awaiting them.

Coffee shop that is decorated by the blind and partially sighted at the South African Society for the Blind

In the words of the Chinese Proverb:
'You can give a man a fish and he will eat for a day. Teach a man how to fish and he won't starve for his entire lifetime.'

Craft shop at South African Society for the Blind.

If you are interested to read more about this remarkable man, do leave a comment on Back Chat at http:www.leslieback.co.za or email me at les@leslieback.co.za .

You may also email his 'angels' at: jonathan@gingerandlimeconsulting.com
nicole@nicolesherwinevents.com
Or go to his Face Book page at
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Everson-Ngwenya

With grateful thanks to Mia Feinstein for the photographs and for so generously sharing her remarkable talent.

Barney's Version

2011-05-03T17:24:00.006+02:00

Barney's Version

Directed by Richard J. Lewis

Cast: Paul Giamatti, Dustin Hoffman, Rosamund Pike, Scott Speedman, Minnie Driver

We went to see 'Barney's Version', without any expectations other than we knew that it was based on a novel by the late Mordechai Richler. We had not been seduced by any splashy publicity and were frankly unprepared for the impact it would have on us when, for the next two hours, we were held captive by this remarkable piece of cinematic theatre.

Join Back Chat as we relive this story. I hope that you feel what we felt. I would would love to know how you reacted to this extraordinary experience. Do write to me at les@leslieback.co.za or leave a comment on the blog. I look forward to hearing from you.

The acting is superb, from the first frame to the last. Paul Giametti is Barney Panofsky. He is magnificent as the rumpled, paunchy and balding loser who has destroyed all his personal relationships. But, he has succeeded, reluctantly one feels, in producing ghastly television dramas and soap operas for his company, 'Totally Unnecessary Productions'. His story is told in flashbacks which move easily and seamlessly from past to present. Dustin Hoffman who plays Barney's father, a Montreal policeman, turns in a bravura performance. He lights up the screen with wry comedic brilliance and manages to steal every scene.

Barney's son is played by Jake Hoffman. I was bothered throughout the movie by how much this actor looked like a young Dustin Hoffman. Well, in real life he is Dustin Hoffmans's son. Memories of early Hoffman triumphs are evoked by the younger man.

The film opens with Barney, drunk and maudlin at 2am in the morning, telephoning someone called Blair and demanding to speak to his wife. You can hear a man saying, 'she is not your wife' whereupon Barney offers him nude pictures of her so that 'he could see what she looked like in her prime.' He is talking about Miriam, the only true love of his life. This sad wreck of a man is probably one of the most unlikely leading men.

Barney relives his sad and mismanaged life in a series of flashbacks. At once he is in Rome with his first wife whom he married because she was pregnant. She is a kooky free-spirit enchantingly played by Rachelle Lefevre. Quite absentmindedly she commits suicide, and we see Barney back in Montreal and about to marry the 2nd Mrs Panofsky, who incidentally is never named. Minnie Driver's hilarious cameo of this pampered suburban American princess is a highlight of the film. This union is even more doomed than the first. In the middle of the wedding reception, Barney falls in love at first sight with the luminous and elegant Miriam, beautifully and sympathetically played by Rosamund Pike.

Other strands weave in and out of this tapestry of despair and failure. His relationship with his father is vital to the story. His wedding present to his son, when he marries the Minnie Driver character, is a gun. There is always the sinister shadow of that gun and somehow one feels a little uneasy because of it. Also woven into the story is the interlude in Rome with his friend, Boogie, played by Scott Speedman, who somehow dies in a shooting. We are not enlightened about this incident till the very end. A vicious anti-Semitic detective, played by Mark Addy, is convinced that Barney has gotten away with murder and remains an evil shadow. But an even more troubling and despairing strand is the fact that Barney is displaying the early symptoms of Alzheimers disease.

This film is terribly funny, romantic and tragic. A crucible of emotions, but also endearing and tender. Paul Giamatti and Dustin Hoffman provide moments of unutterable sweetness as do his scenes with Miriam. It is easy to love this anti-hero. We sympathise with his failures and forgive him his indiscretions. After all, it is Barney's Version.

Mario's - It's so nice to have you back where you belong.

2011-04-21T15:27:00.010+02:00

On the night of the16th June 2010, at the Cape Town Stadium, Italy had just lost to Paraguay in a soccer world cup match. Across the road at 89 Main Road Green Point, Pina Marzagalli and her children, Marco and Marilena of Mario's Italian Restaurant, waited to feed the hordes. That night they consoled the losers, serving plate after plate of Spagetti Aglio Olio.   The Italians who ate there that night were comforted by this home away from home.   A few hours later a fire ripped through this beloved family restaurant, breaking the hearts of the owners and of the legions of Mario's devoted supporters. It was the also the 24th anniversary of Mario Marzagalli's death; Mario who had given his name and much of his life to the family business.   The fates were testing Pina Marzagalli and her family cruelly.

But life restores and regenerates and Mario's has been healed and is back in full cry. We had lunch there recently and it is as lovely and special as ever. A really warm welcome from the family, a table in a cool corner of the restaurant and a menu to warm the cockles of your heart.

As one approaches the restaurant, the signage is comfortingly familiar. Once across the threshold one is aware of certain changes. Only one column covered with graffiti has survived. The walls and ceiling had to be redecorated. All those memories of meals past, gone.   The lovely Casablanca fans have disappeared and new chandeliers hold pride of place. There is a pizza oven at the rear of the restaurant and a new bar where patrons might wait for a table or a pizza perhaps. The restaurant is light and airy and welcomes you as the previous incarnation welcomed generations of diners.   The aura and the spirit of the place is unchanged and the food, of course, superb as always.

The menu is a large double sheet of stiffened paper. On one side is a truncated version of the old menu, divided into sections of starters, pastas, pizzas, fish, veal and meat, sweets and coffee. The Mario's faithful know that what they see on the page is merely a skeleton of what is actually available and don't even bother to read it. They wait expectantly and somewhat breathlessly to hear whether their favourites are available. I believe that they would storm the barricades if thwarted in their culinary quests.

Pina tells us with pride that she can now get real veal. Yes, real veal. She also lists the 'specials' as if each is the most appetizing thing on earth. I swear Eugene's eyes grew misty with emotion. Marrow bones on toast, sauteed lamb kidneys, Portuguese sardines deboned and lightly fried, rabbit casserole with wild mushrooms, Italian sausage served with lentils and spinach, quail on demand and that day, a special pasta, Tagliarini Vongole. Now all we had to do was to choose.

Eugene's love affair with Mrs Mario's oxtail casserole continues unabated. Every other oxtail dish he ever eats is measured against hers. It is his yardstick of perfection. So his choice was easy. Sauteed lamb kidneys to start and then Coda Di Bue Brasata, oxtail casserole at its best. I chose another special that day, Melanzane di Parmigiana, followed by the Tagliarini Vongole. A Peroni beer for Eugene and a glass of crisp, chilled sauvignon blanc for me. On the reverse side of the food menu is a full bar menu. There is a cross-section of wines on offer, or you can bring your own and pay corkage. I am always grateful for this option which nowadays is rarely found.

While we waited for our food, we sipped our drinks and nibbled on divine herb foccacia which was served instead of bread. Everything at Mario's is fresh. Microwave ovens and 'bain-maries' are verboten. No frozen or recycled food at this establishment. A certain number of portions are made fresh everyday and kept in the refrigerator, never a freezer. It takes half a day to make enough pasta for 2 or 3 days. When it has been used up, they start the process all over again.

We ate our starters with gusto. Eugene loved the lamb kidneys and my Melanzane di Parmigiana was superb as always. I could tell from the faraway look on Eugene's face that his mind was already on the oxtail. It arrived steaming and fragrant, meat absolutely glistening and dressed with a rich wine gravy. Cooked for 4 to 5 hours, the meat literally falls off the bone, succulent, juicy and tasty beyond belief. He had rediscovered oxtail Nirvana. My Tagliarini Vongole was a delight, delicate and beautifully prepared.

Just when we thought that we could not eat another thing, Marilena emerged from the kitchen brandishing a piece of homemade almond praline. This is a brittle confection made of almond and caramelized sugar and much like peanut brittle, except with almonds. Eugene was reminded of a childhood favourite. But there was more. Marilena's next offering was fresh homemade ice cream with crushed praline. Eaten at room temperature and before the ice cream set, it was creamy, crunchy and delicious. In its frozen form, this mixture becomes the wonderful Semifreddo.   In my opinion Mario's almond praline ice cream is the best you'll ever taste.

After the lunch guests had left, Pina and her children sat down to eat lunch together. It is always a delight to watch Italians who understand and love food, eating together. There is such gusto and energy. Pina of the alabaster skin and glorious smile is the linchpin of the family and the business. Her children will tell you how traditional she is in her approach to life and to the restaurant. But, she has had to move with the times. She reluctantly agreed to allow a pizza oven on the condition that only Italian pizzas would be made. The cognoscenti will tell that these are the very best.

Magnificently undaunted, Pina, Marco and Marilena have overcome the devastating setbacks of the recent months. They are once again producing their wonderful Northern Italian food. Real food prepared with passion and love. Buon Appetito..

Mario's is open for lunch and dinner from Monday to Friday from 12:00 - 23:00
Saturday - Dinner only.
Closed on Sunday

Telephone: 021 439 6644
email: marinsco@mweb.co.za

Address: 89 Main Road Green Point

Eugene and I love eating out and we always pay for ourselves whenever and wherever we go.

'Oh To Be In England'

2011-04-08T16:51:00.004+02:00

Eugene and I adore England. The elegance and the eccentricity of the English, their wit and their whimsy. We were overjoyed to be back in this 'green and pleasant land.'

We had arrived in Winchester, an hour's drive from London. This ancient and royal city of kings would be our first stop on a three week driving tour that would include Bath and Oxford with wonderful treats and sights en route.

This is the first of a two part series. So come along for the ride and I hope that you enjoy it as much as we did.

If there is anything that you would like to know, do contact me either by email at les@leslieback.co.za or leave a comment on the blog at http://www.leslieback.co.za. I would love to hear from you. And remember, that part two of this odyssey will follow soon.

We stayed at The Wykeham Arms, an 18th century coaching inn. It is 250 years old. In English terms, not even old. They do harrumph about things that are ‘new’. The inn is tucked away in the quietest and oldest part of Winchester, sandwiched between Winchester Cathedral and Winchester College.

When we were there, the Publican was Graeme Jameson.    He had plucked the inn from relative obscurity in the 1980s and built up its fine reputation.    Sadly he has subsequently passed away, but the inn continues to charm under its new proprietors.

The pub was full of cricket memorabilia as Graeme adored cricket. He and my husband Eugene had many fireside chats, debating the finer points of this noble game.

I remember that the accommodation at the inn was indeed ‘noble.’ We stayed in the Canon Room. After all, it is a cathedral town. We had the crispest white sheets, fluffiest white duvets, most luxurious white towels and steaming hot water. he fourteen rooms, each one different, were beautifully appointed and with different names.

We had a tranquil view of trees, green grass and meadows and enjoyed the sight of horses with their riders clip clopping past the inn. Graeme’s wife and young daughter stopped there to collect carrots for their mounts.

The breakfast room was upstairs and there we ate a quintessential English breakfast. Plump and juicy kippers and sausages bursting in their skins served with perfectly poached eggs with golden yolks. There were homemade preserves and mountains of crunchy toast. We didn’t dare talk too loudly. Everyone was concentrating on plates of delicious food. It was all taken very seriously.

We loved the pub and restaurant food in the cosy bar downstairs, a bustling typically English pub that is known far and wide. Businessmen, lawyers from the nearby courts, clergymen, tourists and anybody wanting a traditional British meal.

But we had not come to Winchester just to eat!
So much to do, so much to see.

Winchester has such a rich history. King Alfred the Great made it his capital. It is the burial place of many of England’s Kings, Queens, Saints and famous people such as Jane Austen, Izaak Walton and Keats. The rule of Common Law was established there, the Doomsday Book compiled and the Winchester Bible written. It was fascinating to see that the earliest recorded cat show took place in 1598 in Winchester. Hardly momentous, but as we adore cats, significant to us.

Our first visit was to Winchester Cathedral. It has been written about, spoken about and even sung about. A stone’s throw from The Wykeham Arms; it took us no time to walk there. Building began in 1079, I think that even the English would concede that the Winchester Cathedral is old.

Much of the Cathedral had been altered since Norman times, but the crypt and transepts still stand. It remains one of the finest examples of Gothic perpendicular style to be found anywhere.

There is always a special silence in these monumental cathedrals. The vast vaulted ceilings dwarfed us and we felt a little overawed.

We found the grave of Jane Austen. There is also a stained glass window erected in her memory, acknowledging her reputation as a famed writer. We wandered for a long time, breathing in the vast age and beauty of the place.

Winchester’s rich literary heritage is fascinating. John Keats wrote his “Ode To Autumn” during his stay in Winchester in September 1819. His daily walks through the Cathedral Close are said to have inspired him
.

Jane Austen lived at Chawton in the historic and beautiful county of Hampshire in the south of England, 17 miles from Winchester from 1809 to 1817. Today Chawton is regarded as her literary home. While there, she revised ‘Sense and Sensibility’ as well as ‘Pride and Prejudice’, which she had written some years earlier. Later she wrote 'Mansfield Park', 'Emma' and 'Persuasion'. The house is now the Jane Austen Museum and is crammed with memorabilia and original manuscripts. There is a bookcase containing first editions of her novels.

Constance Hill, in the preface to the first edition of her book, ‘Jane Austen, Her Homes and Her Friends’ notes that “her own family were so much and the rest of the world so little to Jane Austen.” It was in the centre of her family whilst living in Chawton that she was most happy.

She drew on her family’s large circle of friends, social gatherings and places around Hampshire to devise the character and settings for her novels. Imagine the life and times that inspired a Mr and Mrs Bennet, their daughters and the gorgeous, inscrutable Mr Darcy! Constance Hill notes that “Elizabeth Bennet is speaking in the author’s own person when she says to Darcy: ‘I hope I never ridicule what is wise or good.’

When late in 1816, Jane Austen became ill, she and her sister rented rooms at 8 College Street in Winchester to be near her physician. She did not recover and sadly died soon after on the 18th July 1817. The house in College Street is now a museum.

Some countries boast about having the newest and glossiest of buildings. Not the English. They cherish their old and sometimes ancient landmarks.

One morning, fortified by a superb English breakfast, we wandered past one of these venerable landmarks, Winchester College. Wykehamists (as those in the college are called) claim it is the oldest continuously running school in the country.   The school’s motto, ‘Manners makyth man,’ is a saying of William of Wykeham, founder of the school. Interesting to find out how our lovely hostelry had arrived at its name. The words, ‘Wykehamist’ and Wykehamical ‘ have found their way into the Oxford English Dictionary.

We came across another amazing treasure, King Arthur’s Round Table. Legend has it that Winchester was King Arthur’s Camelot.   The Round Table is housed in the Great Hall, the only remaining part of Winchester Castle.   Some say it is probably an ancient fake, I prefer to think not.

Every afternoon, pleasantly weary from our wanderings, we would return to the Wykeham Arms. Dinner at the Inn was always a delight, a different menu every evening listed on a blackboard. While sometimes we ate “bangers at the bar,” sausages to the uninitiated, dinner was always beautifully prepared and presented. Roast rack of lamb, tender and perfectly cooked; calves liver with garlic mash and red wine and onion gravy. Fish, delicately prepared and served with fresh, lightly cooked vegetables. Not a frozen vegetable in sight! All delicious, all beautiful.    Who says the English can’t cook? We sat at old school desks, an echo of the Inn’s affinity with nearby Winchester College.

Too soon it was time to move on. Our host gave us all sorts of assurances about our next stop. We were not at all certain about our next destination or even how to get there. We had heard so much about Glastonbury and had booked a room in an hotel, which was a converted monastery. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but after the glorious comfort of our room at the inn, the thought of a converted monk’s cell was distinctly unappealing. Should we just go straight onto Bath?

Graeme painstakingly marked our route on our road map.   He said to phone him from Glastonbury and if we were not happy with our choice of hotel, he and his wife would consult their books and find an alternative. So sad to say goodbye to our new friends and to this lovely corner of England! We packed the car and left after breakfast.

Oh the joys of an English breakfast!

We took a leisurely drive along the A30. Thank heavens for Graeme’s carefully marked route. The beauty of the English countryside was balm for our souls. Suddenly I spotted a sign, Longleat. How wonderful! We had read about this stately home, the ancestral home of every Marquis of Bath for four hundred years.

We followed the signs to Longleat House and were totally unprepared for the sight that awaited us. It is said that the approach through lush parkland is probably the most beautiful of any great house in the British Isles. There was the grand 16th century home, standing proud against an almost impossibly beautiful vista of gardens and grounds. We learnt later that Lancelot ‘Capability’ Brown had landscaped these gardens.

The sumptuousness of the interior of the house matches the spectacular scenery. The magnificent tapestries and ornate ceilings provide a perfect setting for the exquisite furnishings, paintings and objects d’ art. We gasped at the grandeur. Fantastic table settings in the State Dining Room. This is seldom used except for entertaining royalty. The first royal guest was Elizabeth 1 and the most recent Elizabeth 11. There is a silver centrepiece that we will never forget. Made by Garrard in 1837 and weighing 1,000 ounces, it took our breath away.

On our way out, we passed through the inevitable gift shop. Income has to be generated to sustain these massive estates. We were interested to see a large array of teddy bears, all differently dressed, waiting to be bought. I asked the charming woman operating the shop about these bears. “Oh” she said, “we love our bears.” She then proceeded to tell us about a visitor to Longleat who had driven up in a convertible roadster with a huge teddy bear strapped into the seat next to him. He gently unbuckled his companion and carried him into the gift shop. “Do look after him,” he asked, “ I would hate him to be lonely.” I adore this English eccentricity.

We drove away through the parklands, wondering just what sort of person lived in such splendour. It was lunchtime and we spotted a pub as we were leaving the grounds. We stopped and shared a delicious Shepherds pie. It was just out of the oven, superbly flavoured and topped with light and fluffy mashed potatoes. There is such an atmosphere of welcome and warmth in an English country pub.   All too soon it was time to leave this cosy sanctuary to continue our journey.

We followed all the signs and after a while found ourselves in Glastonbury. Oh dear! All our worst fears were realised. The hotel was indeed a converted monastery. Inside, a very narrow staircase hewn from stone curved steeply upwards.

We huffed and puffed up the stairs, dragging our suitcases. The cases scraped and knocked against the walls as we struggled to negotiate the narrow twists and turns. Then the room.

It was airless and dark with a small window under the low ceiling. Heavy wooden beams completed the picture of utter gloom. Those monks led a very spartan existence. We tumbled down the stairs as fast as possible.   The proprietors appeared to be quite sanguine about the fact that we had rejected their accommodation. They allowed us to use their telephone to phone Graeme. We described our predicament to him. He said he would phone us back within half an hour with a solution.   Again, thank heavens for Graeme!

The solution was that we should drive onto Bath and stay at the Royal Crescent Hotel. He would telephone ahead and book a room. Over and above the call of duty, what a splendid man. We felt less like strangers in a foreign land.   The history and mysticism of Glastonbury would wait as a promise for another visit.

The Wykeham Arms, 75 Kingsgate Street Winchester, Hampshire
Longleat House, Warminster, Wiltshire
Jane Austen Centre, 40 Gay Street Bath.
www.visitwinchester.co.uk

Winchester is one of the country’s best-loved cities. Popular for its shopping streets and architecture, its floral summer season and quirky open air events, England's ancient capital is most well known for its eleventh century cathedral and mysterious Round Table. Home of good food, birthplace of the modern game of cricket, resting place of Jane Austen and inspiration to the many artists who live here, Winchester is a city for all seasons. Come and visit soon.

Click here for the 2nd and final part of 'Oh to be in England'.

Special thanks to Linda Messingham, Winchester Tourism

‘Oh to be in England’ Home Thoughts, From Abroad, Robert Browning
‘Green and pleasant land’ Milton

'Oh To Be In England' Part 2

2011-04-08T16:50:00.006+02:00

Eugene and I adore England. The elegance and eccentricity of the English, their wit and their whimsy. We were overjoyed to be back in this 'green and pleasant land.

This is the 2nd of a two-part series describing our adventures on a three week driving tour that included Winchester, Bath and Oxford, with wonderful treats en route.

At the end of the first part, we had decided to leave Glastonbury and drive on to Bath and the magnificent Royal Crescent Hotel. I do hope that you will accompany us for the next part of the adventure

If you have any questions or would like to know more detail about any part of this tale, do contact me by email at les@leslieback.co.za or leave a comment on Back Chat at http://www.leslieback.co.za . I would love to hear from you

North on the A39 to Bath. What wonders were in store

The Royal Crescent Hotel is situated on the Royal Crescent, a crowning glory of Georgian Bath.

A semicircular terrace of magnificent houses, The Royal Crescent was built between 1767 and 1775. Originally wealthy socialites would rent the houses for the season, when everybody who was anybody came to Bath to take the waters, socialise and parade their finery. The pavements in the terrace are very, very wide. One can imagine the women in their voluminous skirts sauntering along this wonderful promenade. All the nodding, smiling, and social manoeuvrings.

We found we had been allocated a suite. In high season, such accommodation would certainly not have been available at a moment’s notice. Also the price would have been quite different. It was autumn when we were there. What would all those 18th century socialites have thought of us?

The suite was beautifully appointed, fine linens and the décor understated. A terrace lead off from the sitting room and overlooked the delightful garden.

Dinner was served in The Dower House, which is a smaller house built on the estate of a larger one and part of a widow’s dower and intended to be her residence.

The dress code at the time was jacket and tie. We crossed the beautifully kept garden towards the Dower House. The restaurant was quietly elegant. The crystal and tables settings sparkled in the subdued lighting. Voices were muted and waiters moved soundlessly around the room.

Dinner was exquisitely presented. A delicious crayfish bisque and Dover sole served with seasonal vegetables as the main course. The sommelier recommended a delightful Chablis Premiere Grande Cru, which sang on the palate. We lingered over a light fruit dessert and then had an excellent Stilton cheese served with Tawny Port.

Coffee was served in the drawing room. The restaurant and the dinner were superb and we decided to have dinner there each night. We would strike out during the day. Spartan living was definitely not for us. Our monk’s cell seemed very far away.

Each morning we would breakfast on our own lovely terrace and strategise, wanting to see as many of Bath’s treasures as possible. Time was precious!

First we explored the Royal Crescent. The houses on the terrace are magnificent. At No.1 Royal Crescent there is a grand Palladian townhouse superbly restored, refurnished and redecorated in the minutest detail of its 1770 splendour. It is a designated World Heritage Building and now a museum. All the staff dress in period costume and one could easily imagine what living in Bath was like in its glory days.

Even today the Crescent is considered a very exclusive and fashionable address. The tour buses drive gingerly around this oh so special semi-circle. Tour operators have to turn off their microphones to preserve the genteel atmosphere. All a bit quirky.

Like Rome, Bath is famed for its seven hills. Easy to say, but walking around the very compact city centre is a strain on one’s legs. We just meandered.

The ancient Roman Baths, the soul of Bath, are fascinating. Surely 2000 years is old enough to be considered ancient in Britain? They are built around a natural hot spring that rises at 46.8 degrees centigrade. The buildings were left to decay after the Romans left. At the beginning of the 18th century, after a visit by Queen Anne, interest in the baths was reawakened. The Great and The Good came to take the waters and so began the era of fashionable leisure in Bath.

We loved the Roman swimming pool and the Great Bath. The remains of an ancient temple evoke such pictures and imaginings of the glory that was ancient Rome. All those Roman men and woman in their robes and their decadence.

We would stop for a light lunch. We discovered Sally Lunn’s Refreshment House and Museum. An absolute delight. It is the oldest house in Bath.

In 1680, Sally Lunn worked in this charming building and created the legendary Bath buns. The staff wears period dress. In spite of this, the restaurant is not a noisy tourist trap.

Another day we visited Stonehenge. It is a comfortable drive from Bath. How excited and intrigued we were to see this mystical place of Druid worship. How did the stones get there? Who on earth could have carried these massive slabs and placed them on top of each other? We were dismayed to see how commercial it had become. There are ticket booths, covered walkways and people selling gifts and souvenirs. What a pity. Still it remains mysterious and possessing of a certain energy.

Jane Austen spent some years in Bath. We continued on our Jane Austen literary quest. She lived in Bath from 1801 to 1806 before she went to Hampshire. The city remains much as she knew it then.

She set two of her published novels, Northanger Abbey (completed in 1803) and Persuasian (written in 1817) in Bath.

One can sense Jane Austen living in and enduring the suffocating confines of its society.

We visited the Jane Austen Centre in Gay Street. Lovely to wander through her life. Time flew by. The ‘dreaming spires’ of Oxford were beckoning and our hosts marked the route on our map.

As our luggage was taken to the car, we strolled out to be met by a battery of cameras and media people! Oh my goodness, what was this all about? Our cover was blown. We had come on this trip without contacting any friends or family. Now they would see us on the 9 o’ clock News!

We attempted to shield our faces as we scuttled to the car. We learnt later that there was to be a conference of Labour ministers in Bath and that they had booked the entire Royal Crescent Hotel. We never did find out whether we made the News.

For me, Oxford is the stuff of dreams. I felt such happiness just being in the city. Matthew Arnold’s ‘sweet city.’ Where the Thames is called the Isis.

The good people at the Royal Crescent Hotel suggested that we stay at the Randolph Hotel on Beaumont Street. They telephoned ahead and booked our accommodation. We had been allocated a suite, the Balliol Suite. An appropriate name in this wonderful university town.

The Randolph is situated in the heart of the city, opposite the Ashmolean museum. The Ashmolean, attached to the University of Oxford, is the oldest museum in Britain. It was first built in Broad Street between 1678 and 1683. (Just old enough to feel at home in Oxford!) The present building on Beaumont Street dates from 1845.

We had a perfect view of the Ashmolean from our room. The hotel is really splendid. Again we realised the benefit of travelling in the off-season.

The reception area is panelled in dark wood and the concierge was dressed in full morning suit. This was going to cause us much confusion. The system is to leave one’s car keys with him. The car miraculously disappears and reappears when required.

There is a large sweeping staircase and all the public areas are very grand. Immediately I saw the drawing room, I felt a sense of déjà vu. Of course, a scene from the film, Shadowlands, starring Anthony Hopkins and Debra Winger had been filmed there. It is the story of C.S.Lewis who lived in Oxford. It traces the great and tragic love that he found in later life. He describes it so poignantly in his work ‘A Grief Observed’.

Over fifty years ago, CS Lewis wrote the Chronicles of Narnia.

Ever since, ‘The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe’ has enchanted children and adults everywhere. I remember reading it to my now adult daughter. How we both wished we could walk through the back of a wardrobe and find an enchanted land.

The names of the colleges in Oxford resonate with history and pedigree. We could not wait to explore.

We had arrived in Oxford in early evening. We asked the concierge if he could suggest a restaurant nearby for dinner. He recommended the Elizabeth Restaurant at 82 St Aldates. A reservation made by the concierge at the Randolph would certainly carry weight. We felt so grand.

The Elizabeth is elegant and unpretentious, very popular among succeeding generations of students at Oxford University. There were not many people dining that evening. The atmosphere was quiet and civilised. Strangely enough, Spanish motifs predominated.

We relaxed over an excellent meal. Full- bodied beef consommé, followed by our perennial favourite, rack of lamb. It was tender, succulent, and just the right shade of pink. Delicious!

I chose a crème brûlée as dessert. An amazing treat was in store. It was the finest crème brulee that I had ever eaten. I mentioned this to our waiter whose chest then seemed to puff with pride.

In a rich Spanish accent, he told us that his ancestors in Spain had made the first crème brûlée. They had put a crème caramel in the oven to bake and it had burnt. There had not been time to bake another, so they had served it in it’s burnt state and voila, crème brûlée was born.

We had heard the story of a burnt crème caramel before, but we chose to believe his version.

The next day, we descended the sweeping staircase of the hotel and asked the concierge, all dressed in his magnificent sartorial splendour, to bring our car to the front of the hotel. We heard a very plummy accent, a very indignant plummy accent; snap “I am not the concierge.” Oh my goodness, he was a guest at a wedding reception being held at the hotel. The morning suit that he was wearing seemed identical to the dress of the concierge. To further confound us he been leaning against the concierge’s desk. We fumbled our way through an apology, but our ‘aristocrat’ just stalked off in high dudgeon. Would we ever understand the foibles and fancies of the English? How do they put up with us?

Suitably chastened, we decided to walk and hurried out. We did not dare another attempt at calling for the car that day.

The romance of the names of Oxford’s university buildings and colleges! I had read about them, seen pictures of them, imagined them and now I was here. Where to begin?

We decided to explore Christ Church College first. It is said to be the largest and most spectacular of Oxford’s colleges. Cardinal Thomas Wolsey founded it in 1525.

Thirteen British prime ministers were educated here as well as Albert Einstein, the poet WH Auden and Charles Dodgsen (the real name of Lewis Carroll.)

The Reverend Dodgsen lived in Oxford and wrote his famous ‘Alice’ books there. There are quaint shops dedicated to selling ‘Alice in Wonderland’ memorabilia.

Visitors to Christ Church College are not permitted to go through the main entrance. We used a smaller entrance down St Aldate’s. We joined a tour led by an Oxford graduate student. He was interesting and entertaining. He referred to Cambridge University as ‘the other place.’ The rivalry between the two venerable institutions extends far beyond the annual boat race.

We were introduced to a Bull Dog. No canine this, rather a man in a dark suit and a bowler hat. His role is never quite spelt out. It seems that he admits the students as they enter the college and vets who comes and goes. A great Oxford tradition.

We saw the magnificent Great Hall, the college’s dining room on the south side of Tom Quad, the largest quadrangle in Oxford. We walked through the Christ Church cathedral, the smallest cathedral in the country. It has sturdy Norman columns and beautiful stained-glass windows, one of them showing the murder of Thomas Becket. We explored the Picture Gallery, which has a small collection of Renaissance art. By this time our feet were aching so we broke away from the tour and limped back to the hotel. So much more to see! It would have to wait for another time.

The next day, we braved the perils of the concierge’s desk and asked for our car. We were going to visit Blenheim Palace, 13 kilometres from Oxford.

Blenheim Palace is the home of the Dukes of Marlborough and the birthplace, on 30 November 1874, of Winston Churchill. The great country houses of England were such ‘power houses’ of the British Empire. We love the history!

It was in the gardens of Blenheim that Winston Churchill proposed to Miss Clementine Hozier during the summer of 1908. I adore the romance of the story. Theirs was a great and enduring love, at times tumultuous.

Sir Winston Churchill’s love of Blenheim remained to his dying day. When he died in 1965 he was buried, according to his wishes, beside his parents Lord and Lady Randolph Churchill, in the nearby churchyard at Bladen within sight of Blenheim. When his ‘darling Clemmie’ died in 1977 she was laid to rest beside him.

The Palace is set in 2100 acres of beautiful parkland, which was landscaped by Lancelot ‘Capability Brown. Many gardens of the great homes are testaments to his extraordinary craft and skill.

Just north of the house there is a dramatic artificial lake with a beautiful bridge created by Sir John Vanbrugh. He and Nicholas Hawksmoor designed the Palace.

The interior of the Palace is a baroque fantasy. The paintings and tapestries are exquisite. We loved the intricate detail and delicacy of the carvings. The hand painted ceilings, the amazing porcelain collections and fine antiques allow one to realise the scale of the grandeur. The aristocrats and landed gentry lived lives of splendour and privilege. It is a shame that the upkeep of these great homes forces the owners into commercialisation. Guided tours and gift shops provide revenue. The huge benefit is that we get to see the inside of these places.

So great was Winston Churchill’s love and attachment to the place of his birth that it came as no surprise to see a view of Blenheim in the place of honour above the fireplace of his study at Chartwell.

Chartwell was Winston and Clementine Churchill’s home for 40 years. We visited this lovely old home in Kent on a subsequent trip. The architecture is unremarkable. Churchill made many additions to the original Tudor building.

The interior is very much as Winston and Clementine left it. Clementine decorated the house in contemporary 1920’s style. The walls and ceilings are decorated in plain light colours. Flowery chintz curtains in the Library and Drawing Room and emerald green in the Dining Room provide colour and contrast. The Drawing room is comfortably furnished with sofas and armchairs covered in pale fabrics. The overall picture is one of elegance and great comfort.

Churchill was a talented artist and many of his works adorn the walls. The home overflows with books, personal mementos and great, detailed maps. His talents are legion. He adored landscaping. He was a master bricklayer and very proud of his building skills. He landscaped and planned his garden to ensure the best views. There he could relax, build a wall, feed a duck or simply lose himself in the beauty of his magnolias and contemplate the past and plan for the future. The sight of a solitary chair in the garden marking the spot where he sat and painted entranced me. I could imagine him hunched over his canvas with the inevitable cigar in his mouth. How he loved his cigars.

Writing was central to his life. His memoirs, great historical and literary works are displayed in the bookshelves in his study. Here he dictated his famous speeches. He would practice reading them and would try them out on guests round the dining room table at Chartwell. These guests included eminent politicians, journalists, writers and artists. Invariably there were at least twenty people sitting around the circular scrubbed oak tables. The chairs were also of scrubbed oak and made to Churchill’s own specifications. He insisted that they should have arms so that his guests could have great comfort when sitting at meals.

Winston and Clemmie adored cats. They had a much-loved marmalade cat, Tango. The English artist, William Nicholson was a regular visitor to Chartwell and a wonderful influence on Churchill’s painting. While staying there in 1933, he painted the Churchills taking breakfast in the Dining Room. Tango is pictured sitting comfortably on the table being fed by Clemmie.

We left through double doors housed in an elegant eighteenth-century wooden doorcase. There are huge brass rings on each door and beautiful carvings above.

Oxford beguiled us.

We tramped around some of the great colleges. Magdalen College is reputed to be Oxford’s wealthiest and probably most beautiful. The cloister with its strange gargoyles and carved figures is said to have inspired C.S. Lewis’ stone statues in the ‘Chronicles of Narnia’. Oscar Wilde and the poet laureate, John Betjeman were students at the college.

We visited the 16th Brasenose College, which has charm and elegance perhaps lacking in its more famous neighbours. J.R.R. Tolkien taught at the small, smart and affluent Merton College. Another literary giant associated with this college is T.S. Elliot.

Each college is famous and beloved by those who attend them.

The Bodleian Library is one of the oldest public libraries in the world. Known to Oxford scholars as “Bodley” or simply “the Bod”, it is one of six copyright deposit libraries in the United Kingdom.

We had joined a tour and were fortunate once again to have an Oxford graduate student as a tour guide.

Naturally students dominate the scene in Oxford. They cycle everywhere, always at a frantic pace, their black gowns billowing out behind them. They look like great black birds flying along. There are parking areas for bicycles. It is not unusual to see at least fifty bicycles lined up next to each other. They all look so similar, yet there is total order and no mix-ups. Another Oxford tradition.

So soon it was time to leave. Reluctantly we left the rarified atmosphere of the Randolph and drove to Heathrow. Our English idyll was over.

Farewell to Shakespeare’s England. ‘This royal throne of kings, this sceptered isle’.

Click here to read the first part of 'Oh To Be In England'.

The Royal Crescent Hotel, Royal Crescent, Bath Avon BAI 2LS

Roman Baths Museum Abbey Churchyard, Bath.

The Randolph, Beaumont Street, Oxford Oxfordshire OX1 2LN

Elizabeth (The) Restaurant, 82 St Aldates Oxford OX1 1RA

Blenheim Palace, Woodstock, Oxfordshire OX20 1PX

Chartwell, 10 Kilometres(6 miles) S.E of Sevenoaks, Kent

Special thanks to Ian Shaw of The National Trust Photographic Library.

‘This royal throne of kings, this sceptered isle' William Shakespeare Richard 11

'That sweet city with her dreaming spires' Matthew Arnold Thyrsis

Casa Labia Café

2011-03-14T20:53:00.046+02:00

For years and years, anybody driving through Muizenberg and onwards along the coast road towards Fish Hoek, would pass the magnificent Labia home, this temple to a past era of grandeur and elegance. The years have been somewhat turbulent for this grand old lady. Built in 1929 by Count Natale Labia as a private residence, it also served as an Italian Legation and Embassy. It was designed to reflect the beauty and style of their Venetian palazzo. Grand balls and receptions were held, life had a pace, grace and stateliness befitting the status of a grande dame.

After Count and Countess Labia died, the house lay silent and unattended for a time. No wonderful parties, no glittering society affairs with men and women in all their finery dancing the night away in the elegant Italianate ballroom. The years passed. Various foreign governments leased the villa and in1985, the Fort was handed over to the National Gallery, who restored and renovated it and opened it to the public as a museum. It was called the Fort, as the land on which the house had been built had been the site of an old battery to protect False Bay from hostile invaders. Today, the only hostile invaders are huge tourist buses and noisy visitors.

And then in 2008, Count Luccio Labia (son of Count Natale Labia) reclaimed the property. With the assistance of his daughter, Antonia Labia Hardres-Williams, the house was lovingly restored. Like the Secret Garden where the flowers blossomed again when the children returned, Casa Labia blossomed when the family Labia returned. Today it glows and puffs out its chest in pride. Life has returned to this lovely place.

Within this glorious palazzo is the Casa Labia Café. Very recently Eugene and I visited the Café for lunch. It was a memorable experience. A former reception room has been transformed into an elegant and stylishly informal café. Beautifully decorated in the manner of the house, it opens onto a sheltered courtyard with bougainvillea-covered arches and glimpses of a magnificently landscaped garden beyond. The interior of the restaurant seats 40 and maintains an atmosphere of intimacy. Tables of various sizes, some covered with the palest of pale pink damask linen cloths, others unadorned and showing off their glowing yellow-wood forms, are attended by beautifully upholstered chairs. Roses everywhere, pink on the day that we were there and glimpses of Murano glassware blend with the white and cream and gold of the room.

At the door of the restaurant was a small blackboard in an ornate gold frame showing specials of the day. Love the idea of a blackboard in an ornate gold frame! We were shown to a table by a window and settled down to study the menu. Casa Labia Café is a breakfast, lunch and tea place or make it brunch if you wish. After much dithering, I finally chose the Caesar salad, described on the menu as a "Caesar Salad of Organic Free Range chicken breast with Pancetta, poached egg, garlic croutons and Parmesan dressing (anchovies on the side)". Eugene ordered the soup of the day which was Truffled Bean Soup. To follow, he chose Smoked Tuna with Quail's Eggs, home-grown organic beans, home-made anchovy and caper mayonnaise with salsa verde. Eugene decided to wash all this down with a Peroni beer, and I decided to stay with the fresh water with ice that we found in a sturdy glass decanter on the table.

While we waited for our food, we gazed at the loveliness of the place. Apart from all that is beautiful, I was particularly entranced by the ceiling painted in the style of the Belle Epoque depicting a luscious maiden frolicking with adorable plump angels and gazing benevolently down on us. I think that she has watched a lot of happy people during her tenure on high.

My salad was delicious. Succulent chicken with piles of smokey pancetta hiding a plump poached egg atop masses of crisp salad and adorned with slices of toasted garlic bread and a pungent parmesan dressing.    Eugene made short work of the soup and mopped up whatever was left with homemade onion ciabatta.   I was still munching my way through my salad when his tuna arrived. Presented as carpaccio, it really is a melt in the mouth experience. He loved it.

The menu displays an Italian style of food preparation which, blended with a South African influence, reflects the Labia family's love of both cultures. Brunch and light snacks include homemade scones and muffins, poached and scrambled eggs and Eggs Pavarotti, which are poached eggs with pancetta and red pepper hollandaise. Oh my!   The starters on the lunch menu include an antipasti platter, Melanzane served as a starter or a main course, classic carpaccio of beef fillets, a vegetarian soup and quiche of the day and the lovely smoked tuna dish that Eugene had so enjoyed.   The starter portions are all very generous and could easily serve as a main course.

The Mains are a tempting array of lovely things. Try the Pasta of the Day or Mushroom Risotto with Truffle Oil or even an Antipasta platter that makes one's mouth water just reading about it. There is a Roast Loin of Lamb with braised vegetables, potatoes, spiced tomato sauce and Aiolo, an organic chicken dish and the amazing Casa Labia Frutti Del Mare. This special treat has calamari, prawns, line fish and mussels in a white wine and cream- herb sauce with a garlic brushetta and chilli on the side. Oh what bliss!   There are lovely salads to eat as full meals or as side dishes as well as sandwiches which are all served with Parmesan frites and a salad garnish.

Eugene and I did not try the desserts but we did see them being served to other diners. Just beautiful!   Choose between a Dark Chocolate Fondant, a White Belgian Chocolate Mousse Sundae with Fruit Coulis and berries or an Upside-down Polenta and Summer Fruit Tart served on Rasberry Coulis with Amaretti Ice Cream or almond Biscotti.   Dishes of ice creams in tuille baskets floated by and I could have cheerfully hijacked one

There is a carefully chosen Beverage, Bubbly and Wine list, with several wines and bubblies available by the glass as well as gin and tonic and Peroni beer.   Everybody has been catered for.

The inimitable Judy Badenhorst is the food consultant.   Many of us have had our gastronomic lives touched by Judy.   The Old Cape Farmstall and The Old Cape Farmstall Cookbook, the River Café at Uitsig, the Lucky Store in Stellenbosch, 'Eight at Spier' and others have all played huge roles in our eating experiences.   Now she is working her magic at Casa Labia Café. Robert Sibitz is the head chef and the combination of the skills of these formidable talents creates the joyful eating experience.

Judy tells us proudly about their devotion to fresh and local produce. Beautiful herbs and vegetables from their own gardens are used in the Café as well as fresh produce bought locally. Judy expounds on the philosophy of fresh, real, simple food that is flavoursome and honest. No fusion food here! Helen Spreckley cares for the flowers in the grand rooms as well as the restaurant. She and Clifford, the caretaker, are the guardians of the beautifully landscaped gardens.

The charming manageress of the café, Tania Mill, told us wonderful tales of the house. The grand ballroom is used as a function room. In fact, they are hosting a wedding there in the near future. Antonia Labia Hardres-Williams, who is fully involved in the care and running of Casa Labia, has a wonderful approach to the treasures of the house. She believes that they are there to be shared with all those who appreciate lovely things. No stuffy attitude, no rails around carpets and special pieces.

Upstairs, in what used to be the bedrooms of the house, there is a light airy gallery where the work of contemporary South African artists is shown. Also, the Africa Nova boutique which offers African art and artifacts. We were amazed by the quality of the light streaming through the windows and we gazed in wonderment at the view of the sea beyond. I think that the bygone era must have been quite splendiferous.

Casa Labia Café is open from Tuesday to Sunday from 10.00am to 4.00pm
Telephone: 021 788 6062
email:    cafe@casalabia.co.za
website:    www.casalabia.co.za
Address:     192 Main Road Muizenberg South Africa

Booking Is Essential

Eugene and I love eating out and we always pay for ourselves whenever and wherever we go.

The King's Speech

2011-02-18T12:26:00.016+02:00

The King's Speech

Writer: David Seidler

Director: Tom Hooper

Cast: Colin Firth, Geoffrey Rush, Helena Bonham Carter, Guy Pearce, Michael Gambon

Thousands of words have been written about 'The King's Speech'. Mostly raves, but also many decrying the fact that historical liberties have been taken. But one thing everyone, without exception is agreed upon, is that Colin Firth's performance as the stammering Duke of York and then King George V1 is a tour de force.

Every time we watch a film, we are required to suspend belief. Do we really believe that these are not actors, but real people? Well, yes we do. And in this superbly mounted English period piece, I for one joyfully allowed myself to believe everything and to enjoy every moment of the meticulous craft and sublime skill demonstrated by the actors and the film's makers.

I would be most interested to know your opinion. Do write to me at les@leslieback.co.za or leave a comment on the blog. I look forward to hearing from you.

The film starts very powerfully. We witness the agonizing spectacle of the Duke of York standing frozen before a microphone about to address the vast crowds at the Empire exhibition at Wembley on the 31st October 1925 and via live radio to the nation. His stammer prevents him from getting a word out, the horror and hideous embarrassment of his predicament deeply etched on his face The crowds, eyes downcast, are equally embarrassed. But his father, King George V, who had determined that it was necessary that Bertie (as he is known to his family) should make more public appearances, reacts with cold and unsympathetic wrath. The King declares that while it used to be enough for royalty to look good on a horse, they were now, in the new media age, expected to master the radio microphone. The part of King George V is brilliantly played by Michael Gambon. It is a cameo role, but carries so much weight that one remains aware of him throughout the film.

It would appear that the Duke of York had been subjected to the attentions of many speech therapists and had roundly and soundly denounced them all. His wife, the Duchess of York, seeks out Lionel Logue, a rather extraordinary Australian speech therapist who occupies shabby premises in Harley Street. Helena Bonham Carter plays the Duchess of York, later Queen Elizabeth, with great sensitivity and with an uncanny ability, portrays her as we might remember the lovely Queen Mother. Aristocratic, charming but with a core of steel beneath the marshmallow exterior. Geoffrey Rush portrays the eccentric Australian as brash and bullish, but also as an empathetic and emotional teacher. It is a brilliant portrayal. He brushes aside royal convention and protocol, insisting on equal footing between teacher and pupil. The lessons cannot be held in any palace, but in his rooms and on his terms. The Duchess of York plays a very active role in the lessons, even at times having to sit on the floor with the Duke.

When the Queen Mother was approached by the writer,David Seidler, for permission to write about her husband's travails, she requested that it be deferred till after her death as the memory of the events was too painful. And so David Seidler waited and what was to be a stage play became a screen play. Seidler vividly describes the unconventional methods employed by Logue. He details the sometimes angry exchanges between teacher and pupil and the initial uneasiness of the relationship. Eventually Bertie comes to rely on this man who becomes his friend and his confidante. It becomes clear that the origin and cause of the stammer is the unhappy relationship with his father. George V famously said that he had been afraid of his father and it was absolutely right that his sons should be afraid of him!

All the while, in the background, David, Prince of Wales, portrayed by Guy Pearce, as a shallow playboy, is carrying on a relationship with a twice divorced American woman,Wallis Simpson. Described by Logue as Queen Wallis of Baltimore, she holds the prince firmly and irrevocably in her thrall. The Prince cruelly teases Bertie, causing him to sink further and further into his stammering state. The ailing King George V dies, propelling David into his role as Edward V111. David actually finds this very selfish of his father, as he was hoping the role would be long deferred.

When King Edward abdicates to marry Wallis Simpson, Bertie ascends the throne as King George V1. He insists that Logue be seated in the king's box for the coronation in Westminster Abbey. The Archbishop of Canterbury is appalled, but Bertie remains adamant. Logue coaches the king through the rituals of the coronation and succeeds in incurring his pupil's wrath by casually sitting in St Edward's Chair, the seat of kings and queens through the centuries. The Stone of Scone, a mere trifle.

When World War 2 breaks out, the King is required to make a speech to the nation. Presented with his speech, he takes one look at it and declares 'get Logue'. A special studio is constructed within the palace to allow for total intimacy between the King and Lionel Logue. Lionel says 'speak to me' and that is exactly what King George V1 does. He manages the speech triumphantly and then goes out onto the Balcony with his family to receive an ovation from his people.

There is a wonderful scene that encapsulates the energy and relationship between these two men when Colin Firth pauses for a moment before going out onto the balcony and turns to his friend. There is a shared moment. Is the glint in Logue's eye a tear or a sparkle of pride? Two huge faces filled the screen and we all wept.

In the final titles, there is a lovely note to say that Lionel Logue was present at all the speeches the King made throughout the war and that they remained lifelong friends.

Colin Firth's performance is impeccable and elegant He displays all the niceness of the King, the depth of his love for his wife and daughters, his very reluctant kingship and his honest devotion to his duty as monarch. Apart from the stammer, he also adopts the very tenor of King George V1's voice. I loved the charming English lisp where the R sound comes out as a W. And oh my, doesn't he look terrific with all his medals and military finery!

Geoffrey Rush and Helena Bonham Carter deserve giant applause as supporting actors who each make their roles almost as important as the lead. The writer and the director succeed brilliantly in strongly emphasising the inter-dependence of the King, the Queen and Lionel Logue.

While all the minor players are excellently crafted, I would venture to suggest that Winston Churchill, played by Timothy Spall, sounds perfect, but looks like a jowly and mournful spaniel instead of a bulldog. But who cares? Everything about 'The Kings Speech' is evidence of how brilliantly the Brits portray their monarchs and how beautifully they mount period dramas. In this, they are without peer.

Back Chatter on Oysters

2011-02-01T16:34:00.006+02:00

'Only another oyster would find an oyster beautiful' wrote Dr R.Hedeen in his definitive book on oysters. But to the true afficionado oysters are a thing of beauty. Savour the sheer delight of a succulent oyster feeling it slip, like silk, down your throat - bliss!!

It is overwhelmingly extolled for its alleged enhancement of the human libido. Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love, emerged from the sea in an oyster shell and the legend was born. But is it a legend? Casanova ate 50 raw oysters every morning.

Back Chat lifts the veil on the mysterious world of oysters. This is for those who love oysters and for those who have yet to learn to love them.
Should your curiosity be aroused and should you wish to know more about these amazing molluscs, please contact me at Back Chat, http://www.leslieback.co.za or email me at les@leslieback.co.za . I would love to hear from you.

LET THE WORLD BE YOUR OYSTER

Once you have relished your first oyster perhaps you will, like Casanova, begin each day with 50 or so delectable molluscs, at their best and most natural. Serve simply chilled with just a squeeze of fresh lemon and maybe a grind of black pepper (Oyster Nirvana). Ideally, nothing should be added that diminishes their delicate true flavour.

Nature provides the added bonus of oysters being a natural source of minerals such as calcium, copper and iron. They are rich in iodine and certain proteins that embody amino acids of which glutamine acid is one. This helps keep the cholesterol low in the blood. They do contain a small amount of cholesterol, so for those with a history of heart disease, the intake of dietary cholesterol should be monitored.

Oysters are low in saturated fats and carbohydrates and provide vitamins A, B12 and C. Added to this Aladdin’s Cave of goodness are Omega 3 fatty acids linked to reduction in heart disease.

Zinc is its most highly touted property, which plays a renowned role in the development of sexual hormones, is certainly good for circulation and strengthening the body’s immune system, but overwhelmingly extolled for its alleged enhancement of the human libido.

Oysters are found naturally in the ocean where they attach themselves to hard structures or rest on the seabed. Predators or strong waves and currents can unfortunately easily remove them.

Until recently wild oysters were enough to satisfy peoples’ needs. However, the supply has dwindled and today the problem has become so serious that some oyster beds have vanished entirely - plundered by natural enemies, water pollution and their greatest enemy, man.

Fortunately, as far back as the early 1900’s, marine biologists anticipated the situation and realised that new measures had to be taken to cultivate oysters. Farming them in seeded oyster beds using sophisticated methods, which today yield excellent results.

The Pacific oyster, regarded as the elite of cultivated oysters all over the world, is indigenous to countries such as Japan and Korea. These have been introduced into the Knysna Lagoon in South Africa and are fast croppers, reaching maturity in eighteen months.

Besides the Pacific variety the Knysna Lagoon also cultivates oysters whose seeds originate from hatcheries in Chile and France.

When harvested oysters are brought back to land, thoroughly cleaned and graded by size (Cultivated oysters come in cocktail, medium and large sizes). Then placed in crates in well-aerated shallow concrete dams with a plentiful supply of fresh seawater. These dams are drained every day for a few hours, so that the oysters can once again become accustomed to being out of the water. When an order is received, the oysters are removed from the dams, washed and packed for dispatch.

Wild oysters are hand picked off the rocks along the coast. They are full of taste and flavour - quite an overwhelming experience - and grow to a size that is impossible to slurp whole and requires a good few bites.

Slurping sounds crude, but that is the way it's done!

In a nutshell, ( should that be an oyster shell?!), oceans and hatcheries all over the world provide delicious oysters, some more famous than others.

In Europe, the French are renowned for their Belon Oysters, also the green- tinged Marennes. The Belon, native to Brittany, is according to some oyster lovers the most classic oyster of all. It is round, symmetrical, always flavourful and expensive.

The Marennes, too, is designated according to the rather complicated French system as superior in quality, while the Fines de Claires are special oysters reared to justify their name and their clarity, the meaning of Claire.

America, rich in oysters, has among many others the popular Blue Point, originating in Long Island. The English, their Colchester, Helford and Whitstable oysters. The Irish enjoy Galway oysters, especially during the Autumn Galway Oyster Festival. These are the best of the local native oysters reared in the unpolluted Atlantic waters.

It interesting to know that it was as early as the 4th century BC that the Greeks were cultivating these fabulous molluscs.

Colder weather announces the season to feast on oysters. The basic premise that oysters should only be eaten in months without an R is challenged by today’s widespread refrigeration, which keeps them cool during hot weather. Oysters spawn in hot weather.

Spawning occurs when the oyster is carrying a gelatinous mass of eggs, whitish in colour. They are very simple creatures and their entire reproductive cycle is based on water temperature. When the water gets warm, the oysters get reproductive.

There are basically three conditions applicable to a full-grown oyster.

First - A fat healthy oyster that is full of flavour. This condition will be affected by the food and fresh water the oyster is receiving. It follows that when an oyster is fat and healthy and full of glycogen, it is often mistaken for being spawny, i.e. carrying a lot of eggs. This is not the case in this instance. Just because the flesh is white, does not mean the oyster is spawning.

The Second condition, occurring during summer, is when the oyster changes from being fat with glycogen to being full of protein in preparation for reproduction. Here the belly of the oyster gets soft and creamy.

The Third step is after spawning; the oyster becomes very watery and clear and lacking in flavour.

Q. Can one eat spawning oysters?
A. One can, it is a matter of taste.

Q. Are watery oysters inferior?
A. No. Again it is a matter of taste and preference. French oysters tend to be thinner and slightly watery, as oyster beds in France are so overcrowded. European chefs prefer this style of oyster. Asian and American Chefs prefer a fat oyster that fills the shell.

Q. How does one verify that an oyster is spawning?
A. If there are sharp striations (lines and ridges) on the belly, it is not spawning, just fat.

Bottom Line...

Explaining ‘Oyster – speak’
Bivalve - 2 valves or shells
Mollusc - belonging to a group of shellfish that are soft bodied and hard shelled.

Always keep oysters well chilled until eaten or cooked.

When buying oysters ensure they are still alive. An indication of this is that their shells are closed and remain so when tapped. An oyster that is open after being taken out of the water is not fresh and should be discarded.

Buy from a reputable store where freshness is guaranteed. Especially choose a store that has a fast turnover. Oysters can be extremely toxic if bad.

A bad oyster has a very strong and unpleasant smell, so it is easy to identify. If eaten raw they may carry bacteria that can cause poisoning. People with impaired immune systems, chronic diseases and pregnant women should not eat oysters. It is important to mention that some people are allergic to shellfish and can experience serious reactions. In these situations oysters must therefore be avoided.

Look for oysters that are firmly closed and stored between 5ºC (41degrees F) and 10ºC (48 degrees F). Always keep oysters very cool until eaten or cooked. Fresh oysters can be kept for up to two days and shelled oysters can be frozen successfully for up to three months.

Dedicated oyster eaters prefer eating oysters on the half shell, served on crushed ice and as cold as possible.

Oysters can be cooked. There are several legendary dishes known to oyster fundis. Delicious Angels on Horseback, Decadent Oysters in Champagne, Fascinating Oysters Florentine and exciting Garlic Baked Oysters to name a few. They are special in soups, sauces and many other exotic dishes. Never overcook them or you will find them curling at the edges.

Opening oysters or SHUCKING, as this process is known, requires a special knife or implement. This takes skill and practice. The trick is to open it without losing any of the liquor inside. Not easy.

Some oysters are stubborn and do not take kindly to being tampered with, so be careful not to cut or stab yourself.

A tough knob on the underside connects the oyster to the shell and has to be severed in order to open it.

Open it – fork out the oyster and drink the liquor from the shell – heaven! However, easier said than done. If eating in a restaurant, they will do the hard work for you.

What to drink with oysters? Here personal taste prevails. The famous combination is Oysters & Black Velvet. This is a mixture of champagne and creamy stout. Champagne on its own is a perfect accompaniment. Crisp dry white wine is also ideal.

Let the world be your oyster. Your taste buds will never be the same again. Slurp, gulp and join
the world of oyster lovers and may every oyster meal be a special occasion.

Café Paradiso

2010-12-20T15:05:00.018+02:00

Richard Griffin has been at it again. He has made Café Paradiso at 110 Kloof Street, Cape Town, his own. This rather cranky old lady has been refreshed, refurbished, revamped and revitalised and under the unique Griffin imprint has become a special place again.

For those of you that have just arrived from Mars, Richard Griffin is the wizard who creates restaurant experiences that are somewhat different, somewhat other worldly but always lovely. He is the wunderkind behind Madame Zingara, Bombay Bicycle Club, Sidewalk Cafe and the newly reopened Cafe Mozart.( See Back Chat's articles on Sidewalk and Mozart and you will see what I mean about different.)

Over two decades ago, Frieda found this lovely old house and converted it into one of the most popular restaurants on the slopes of Table Mountain. Serving Mediterranean food, she attracted people from far and wide eager to savour the delights that emerged from her kitchen. Frieda eventually moved on and the house played host to a series of restaurateurs. The name became and has remained Café Paradiso and Richard Griffin, as is his wont, has kept the old established name.

Entering the garden of Cafe Paradiso, one leaves the bustle of Kloof Street behind. Tables are set under the trees and the shade is a haven for the hot and weary traveller. Ahead is an oblong water feature and fountain and beyond that are the steps leading up to the double doors of the restaurant. Potted plants line the steps and at the top, a winged sphinx- like creature keeps guard.

The interior is cool with tiled floors, high ceilings and deep-set wood-framed windows. Tables are set with linen cloths and attended by beautiful and comfortable Globe chairs which are 1980's restaurant chairs. Seed cloth curtains and roughly painted walls complete the picture. To the right of the entrance one can glimpse the kitchen with the cooking staff beavering away. This was the old smoking section of the restaurant.

We chose to sit indoors at a table near an open door. Menus were swiftly delivered and drinks offered. The waiting staff displays all the friendliness and food knowledge that we have come to expect from Richard Griffin's establishments.

The menu is printed on an A4 sheet of white paper with the wine list on the back. As it was an exceptionally hot, burny day, I thought that a salad would be perfect and chose the 'Classic Greek Salad with tomato, cucumber, olive oil, balsamic and origanum'. Eugene ordered 'Charred Lemon and Rosemary Chicken', one of the specialties of the house. To wash it all down, a Peroni beer for Eugene and a large jug of water with ice for me. While we waited for our food, we took the opportunity to explore.

A newly constructed wall separates a bar area from the main body of the restaurant. The rustic bar counter is made from unplastered bricks and has a shiny wooden top. Opposite is a beautiful, 200 year old wooden cupboard displaying special vintages. Towards the rear of the restaurant we found the bakery. The legend printed on the menu declares that 'the kitchen is open from 8am to 10pm, six and a half days a week and the bakery never sleeps' Well now, isn't that something? The bakery caters for all the restaurants requirements; excellent breads, delicious cakes, pastries and croissants, all freshly made to be eaten on the day.

In a room off the bakery, we spotted strings of homemade pasta hanging from ceiling racks to dry. The manageress, Christina Koen, proudly told me that the restaurant endeavours to produce whatever it can on the premises. Even the butter is homemade and there is a beautiful old wooden butter churn doing sterling work. Birdcages filled with weird and wonderful things are a decorating feature of the Griffin restaurants, so we were highly amused to come upon a birdcage that actually housed a bird!

Our food had arrived and we tucked in with gusto. My Greek salad was crisp, crunchy and delicious. Eugene's chicken was tender, beautifully cooked with a subtle lemony flavour. I shall order it when next we visit Paradiso. There are Mediterranean style meat and vegetable antipasti offerings, also interesting and exotic starters such as mussels, black risotto with chorizo, salt and pepper squid and a selection of delectable salads. Portions are generous at Café Paradiso, so any of these choices would satisfy as a main course.

Breakfast, which is served till 12 noon, includes slow baked wheat-free muesli, grilled cornbread with churned butter, buttermilk flapjacks, all sorts of egg combinations, savoury french toast with grilled haloumi, oh yum, and much more. There is also a selection of sandwiches. Vegetarians are generously catered for in the 'Pasta and Risotto' section and for the dedicated carnivores there is plenty in the 'Mains' section. Try the Panned Rack of Veal Stuffed with Four Cheeses, Coppa and Prosciutto served with Chunky Tomato Salsa, or Organic Sirloin with Black Mushroom or perhaps the Linefish of the Day. So many choices, so many dilemmas.

One can end the meal with delectable desserts and fabulous farmhouse bakes. Choose from chocolate fondant, brulée with biscotti, handmade ice creams, the famous lemon meringue pie, moist lemon and cheese carrot cake, panna cotta and much more. I love the idea of the 'Dessert Board with Your Choice of Farmhouse Bakes.'

There is a special 'Kids' section on the menu and best of all, there is a wonderful facility to keep these young gourmandes and future discerning diners occupied. A very special lady, Maria, entertains them. There is a section in the bakery where, if they wish, they are taught to make their own pizzas or bread or cupcakes or even a gingerbread man. But there is more. Maria reads to them or they all might go around watering the plants together. What a lovely adventure!

The Executive Chef, Heinrich Koen, has been part of the Zingara family for quite a while. He and the manageress, Christina, met and married whilst working for Richard Griffin. This dynamic young couple bring energy and zest to the projects with which they have been involved. Christina, who studied graphic design, has been project manager in the styling and interior design of many of the restaurants and Heinrich has been responsible for the food styling and training of staff. He is passionate about food, having worked abroad and studied with Jamie Oliver and Aldo Zille. Their son, Alexander, whose name is emblazoned on Heinrich's arm, is 2 years old and somehow fits into this extremely busy and modern couple's life. They happily work 7 days a week.

Richard Griffin describes Café Paradiso as a 'permanent base for some of our older staff - those for whom touring has become tricky because they now have cats and dogs and families'. So in keeping with the ethos of Paradiso, bring your children, your pets or just come with someone you love.

Café Paradiso is open from Monday to Saturday from 8am - 10pm
Sunday from 8 am - 4pm

Telephone: 021 423 8653 or bookings@cafeparadiso.co.za
website: www.cafeparadiso.co.za
Address: 110 Kloof Street, cnr De Lorenz Street, Gardens, Cape

Booking for dinner is essential.

Eugene and I love eating out and we always pay for ourselves whenever and wherever we go

Café Mozart

2010-12-03T17:27:00.038+02:00

Café Mozart at 37 Church Street, Cape Town, has a new lease on life. Richard Griffin, grandmaster of theatricality, has incorporated it into his family of restaurants. He has revamped, refurnished, redecorated, re - everything and now the place hums with his magic.

Café Mozart has held court for over 30 years in a beautiful part of Church street. Sunlight filtering through the trees casts a dappled pattern onto cobblestones below whilst stall-owners of the antiques street market compete for custom. The Café is housed in a lovely old heritage building which has been part of the business scene for many years. In 1939, a locksmith traded there. Imagine what Cape Town CBD must have been like then!

Approaching Café Mozart along a pedestrian stretch of Church Street, the first glimpse of the grande dame is quite enchanting. A picket fence entwined with flowers and greenery surrounds an outside area where people are happily eating and drinking. All sorts of cups and fancies hang from branches of the trees, and a suspended wire goat peers at all of this through huge spectacles. Of course it is eccentric and quirky, what did you expect? Richard Griffin has marked his territory.

We wandered inside and found ourselves in a large room dominated by a beautiful wooden staircase. Sprightly young waiters and waitresses leap up and down the stairs like mountain goats, their arms laden with delicious looking plates of food. There is a long open galley kitchen on the ground floor and some tables and chairs for those who do not wish to climb stairs or sit outside. The walls are bedecked with all sort of curiosities. Attached wooden pedestals hold all manner of cups, ornaments and flowers. Birdcages filled with cups and saucers are suspended from the ceiling and a collection of plates adorn another wall. In a deep inset window sill, great glass bells cover homemade cakes and pastries.

We clambered upstairs clinging to the banister which is also entwined with flowers and greenery. At the top of the stairs, we found ourselves in a fascinating place. A lovely big room, stuffed with antiques and every kind of objet d'art imaginable. Heavy brocade curtains with an art-deco style pelmet and striped wall paper provide a backdrop for the scene that presents itself.. The props for this production include an old studded leather sofa and easy chairs, tables groaning with books, bibelots, boxes and blue and white jars and at one end of the room, an elegant 12-seater table complete with candelabra. Lots and lots of pictures and mirrors crowd the walls. Gracious old writing bureaux with sliding tops are nestled in odd corners of the room. Atop one of these, an old black typewriter. Have we forgotten they ever existed? All that is missing, in my opinion, is a large aspidistra.

Mingled in between and around all this are tables covered with long brocade cloths where one can sit and enjoy one's meal. You may also choose to sit in the living room area on the sofa or you may enjoy dining at the long table in the dining-room area.   We chose a table by a window. Beyond the window box filled with colourful blooms, we had a view of all the goings-on below.   At this point, I felt that we could be sitting in Paris on the Left Bank in a quaint old Café de Thé, overlooking a narrow cobbled street.

The menu follows the successful formula developed at the Sidewalk Café. (See Back Chat's article on the Sidewalk Café - another of Richard Griffin's creations.)   Breakfast is served from 7am till 12 noon. There are eggs in many incarnations to satisfy a morning hunger; a homemade wheat free muesli, a pancake stack with all the trimmings or traditional Cumberland Bangers. Discover what the Full Mozart is all about or spoil yourself with Eggs Royal with smoked salmon, fresh croissant, spinach and hollandaise.   Oh yum!!

The lunch menu, which incidentally is included with the breakfast menu on a folded sheet of white paper, promises all sorts of treats.   Eugene ordered the soup of the day which was fresh tomato and carrot. I ordered the Mussel Pot with white wine, garlic, cream and fresh herbs. Eugene added a toasted tuna, onion and mayo sandwich, served with salad from their quaintly named 'Toasted Governments' section. We were told that this signified that the sandwiches were made only from 'government brown or white bread'. Whatever! There is also a 'Gourmet Sandwich' section and these are a sight to behold. A meal in themselves.

The main menu includes salads and various chicken dishes. I particularly look forward to trying the Chicken and Field Mushroom pie. You can choose from several pasta dishes, 'fab fish and chips', sirloin or bobotie and much much more.   We were spoiled for choice.   Our food arrived. Lots of lovely plump mussels in their broth served in a big white bowl. Eugene's steaming hot soup arrived in a soup bowl with a lid, accompanied by 'government bread' and butter. I had a great feast of delicious mussels and drank the broth with relish. Eugene loved his soup and then tucked into the sandwich. Naturally, I tasted both his soup and the sandwich. All delicious. Eugene is used to me eating half his food. We ended the meal with excellent coffee for Eugene and Rooibos tea for me.   The menu includes a small and well-chosen wine list. You can accompany a lighter repast with a glass of wine of your choice.

There is a chef's salad buffet downstairs which changes daily and includes a take-away option. Café Mozart is ideally suited to cater to office-workers who may require takeaways. On the back of the menu is a list of further 'Take Away' options; sandwiches, soup and salads and other tasty morsels.   I was charmed to read that Market and Antique traders get a 15% discount.

The Café Mozart experience is special. You can enjoy a super breakfast, a quick snack or a leisurely lunch, all day if you wish. You may want to sit outside under the trees with a coffee and a glass of wine and watch the market trading and the ebb and flow of the passers-by. The Café boasts a wi-fi connection, so bring your laptop and sit upstairs and work in peace, perhaps with a glass of wine at your elbow.   Some enjoy agonising over a crossword puzzle for hours with a cuppa to sustain them.   The tranquility of the living room and the comfy sofa upstairs will allow them to do just that.

Café Mozart is open Monday to Friday from 7am to 5 pm
Saturday from 8am to 3pm

Address: 37 Church Street Cape Town
Telephone: 021 424 3774
email: info@themozart.co.za
Website: www.themozart.co.za

Eugene and I love eating out and we pay for ourselves whenever and wherever we go.

Hemelhuijs

2010-11-17T16:28:00.642+02:00

There is a new restaurant in the city, Hemelhuijs at 71 Waterkant Street, the latest manifestation of Jacques Erasmus' creative spirit. He has chosen the location well. Surrounded by buildings whose facades have been restored to reflect their former glory and in sight of the World Cup pedestrian bridge, one is immediately awake to all sorts of possibilities.

The entrance to Hemelhuijs is in a crisp new building that stares cheekily at the ancients opposite. Through glass double doors with a huge wooden surround, Eugene and I found ourselves in a chic café-style eating place. Black walls, mirrors with floating glass shelves and masses of pink roses and pink peonies were our first impressions. We were met and welcomed by a friendly, smiling young man. This is the essence of Hemelhuijs. It is a happy, smiling place. In Jacques words, 'an oasis in the city.'

Jacques flair and talent in their many incarnations have graced our city for quite a while. This purveyor of beauty and style has always been a trendsetter. He has started restaurants for himself, Manna Epicure in Kloof Street and Serenity Spa in Mouille Point where he was the executive chef. He has conceptualized restaurants and their food for other people wishing to emulate his artistry and inventiveness. The Simonsig Cuvée Restaurant is one such example. He has designed and created amazing chandeliers that hang in the Cape Grace and in the restaurant at La Motte, Pierneef á la Motte. These creations have to be seen to be believed. He has his own interior design company, Hemelhuijs and 'oh yes' he says as if by the way,"I write for Taste Magazine in the Trend section." A photograph of one of his beautiful food creations adorns the cover of the October issue of the magazine and frankly, that was the reason I bought it.

So where does his work end and his life begin? Well it doesn't. His work is his life. He has a studio at home which is the birthing place of his visions. He has designed everything in the Hemelhuijs restaurant all of which can be ordered for puchase. The chairs and tables of sand-blasted oak and black epoxy coated steel are skillfully designed to provide maximum comfort. The bar at the back of the chair is just slightly rounded to fit into the contours of one's back. The home- ware on display is his art. Gorgeous matte black ceramic pieces and light fittings. Lovely deep plates that are numbered and stamped; earthy coloured shapes that one could use as decoration or maybe as a vase with a single flower or wherever your whim takes you. Beautiful white linen napery displayed in black boxes is almost too much to resist.   For me, the pièces de résistances are the sapphire blue butterflies mounted in perspex. Turn them around and they are a totally different colour. A natural holograph!

The restaurant is a breakfast and lunch place and of course coffee or what you will all day. The trim menu is printed on white cardboard in the minimalist style that Jacques favours.   On our first visit, Eugene and I tucked into the Caesar salad which according to Jacques, has always been his signature dish.     Delicious crisp lettuce, crunchy garlic croutons, parmesan to tantalize the palate and a light anchovy dressing which allows the taste of the anchovies to peep through without being horribly salty. This is served with chicken and crispy bacon and presented in a very generous sized wooden bowl. The salad is easily a meal in itself to be enjoyed with the excellent bread that is brought to the table. Jacques has an artisanal baker that supplies his delicious bread. Exquisite oriental- patterned bread plates, all different, are just another touch of specialness in a very special place.

The menu changes constantly to take advantage of seasonal produce. A veritable moveable feast. On our next visit I enjoyed a spectacular dish with fresh artichokes. Two plump poached eggs with juicy artichoke hearts, a superb prosciutto and a subtle, lemony hollandaise, what a treat! Eugene ordered the soft scrambled eggs with salmon and toasted apple cake. Again, bread was brought to the table accompanied by the beautiful oriental side plates. I mopped up every scrap of the hollandaise sauce and Eugene made short shrift of the delicate combination of tastes on his plate.   Everything was cooked to perfection, all lovely, all delicious.   Jacques declares proudly that the ingredients that he uses are 99% local.

The menu includes choices of crostini with ciabatta or rye bread. Combinations like 'duck liver paté with preserved orange' or 'salmon with fresh pear, watercress and citrus crème fraiche' and much more to tempt and tease the taste buds. Try a Hemelhuijs 'burger' with creamed mushrooms and a poached egg, or 'slow roasted lamb ribs with coriander seeds and hoisan sauce'. There are delicious salad options for vegetarians and of course, the superb cakes that are baked in the restaurant.

These cakes are a side-show in themselves. Displayed on cake stands or in great glass bells, they are a mouthwatering sight. Melktert from Jacques' grandmother's recipe, apple cake, chocolate cake, almond and pear tart or almond with peach or nectarine. A cup of superb coffee, hand selected fine tea or white hot chocolate with vanilla, accompanied by a really generous slice of any one of these delicacies is a lovely way to end a meal.

There is a selection of four boutique house wines, which can also be ordered by the glass, beer or glorious exotic long drinks that are a sight to behold. Pimms and lemonade with cucumber and green tea, campari with orange and hibiscus tea and fresh apple juice with gin and tonic. Jacques talks about his hope that the 'ladies that lunch' will eventually come to enjoy Bellinis with nectarine and peach purèe that he is planning for the summer. Oh yes! oh yes! oh yes! There is a lovely selection of freshly made juices for those that have to get back to work and I imagine that these will soon be enhanced by ripe and juicy summer fruit.

Jacques dislikes clutter, i.e cluttered plates of food or cluttered anything. He describes his philosophy of 'taking an idea and distilling it to take away the unnecessary.' This Asian approach of clean lines and presentation is carried through the whole restaurant. Eating there is also a visual experience. Eugene and I enjoyed gazing at the people and the place. Wonderful things catch one's eye. White masks with flowers and plants appearing out of their heads, an antique hunting trophy with broken crockery in its antlers, boxes on the floor overflowing with fresh produce, a huge hanging plant that seems to be sprouting in all directions and a picture made entirely out of bread. Overhead there is white board on which he has indulged his inner 5 year old . It is adorned with all sorts of scribbles and shapes. Don't try and make sense of it unless you are an innocent or 5 years old

Hemelhuijs is open Monday to Friday from 8am - 5pm
                             Saturday from 9am - 3pm

Telephone:   021 418 2042

Address:      71 Waterkant Street Cape Town.

Eugene and I love eating out and we always pay for ourselves whenever and wherever we go.

Update to Email From America With James Plugh #2

2010-11-03T15:53:00.020+02:00

BREAKING NEWS BREAKING NEWS BREAKING NEWS BREAKING NEWS BREAKING

Election Night Update

Results of Rhode Island name debate

What is in a name?

Dear Leslie,

It's election night here and while most everyone's attention is on the national picture where the Republican Party has won enough votes to take control of the House of Representatives, I've been watching Question 1 on the Rhode Island ballot. You'll remember that voters in our neighboring state had been asked to decide if the official name of the state should be changed. I can report that our smallest state will continue to have the longest official name. The voters have decided by a 78% to 22% margin to retain the name, The State of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations.

Now you can tell me how you would have voted.

Until next time,

James

Dear James,

Back Chat prefers to keep a neutral position on issues, however we can say that we are very pleased with the outcome of the ballot.

Email From America With James Plugh #3

2010-11-02T17:44:00.065+02:00

Join James Plugh as he searches for the ultimate recipe for clam chowder. Follow him as he unravels the mystery of the Black Pearl.

And when you have reached the end of the treasure hunt, you will be so hungry that Back Chat predicts that you will make yourself a pot of this heavenly brew.

Clam Chowder Anyone?

Dear Leslie

I'm an adopted New Englander, living as I have for the past dozen years or so in the Commonwealth of

Massachusetts. Besides Massachusetts the other states that comprise New England are: Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Rhode Island and Connecticut. It’s easy to recognize that you’re in New England when you drive around the area. Many of our towns and cities are named after the English communities from whence their original settlers hailed. So we have New London and Bristol as well as Dover and Boston. The list is endless. One of the oddities I find amusing is that in Massachusetts the county of Norfolk is south of Suffolk County.

Each of the six states is known for something special. In Maine it has to be the lobster and the way the people say “ayah” when they mean yes. New Hampshire; the “Live Free or Die” state is known for its self sufficiency and the fact that it has no state income tax. Vermont’s maple syrup is known everywhere while Massachusetts is the birthplace of the American Revolution. Rhode Island is the home of religious freedom and Lizzie Borden, and Connecticut is known for building the sailing ships of old and the nuclear submarines of today.

But there is one thing that holds us together as a region…clam chowder…New England clam chowder to be precise or as the natives would say “clam chowdah”.

Now chowders have been around forever. The word “chowder” is thought to come from the French word “chaudiére” and is really a thick soup made from seafood or vegetables like corn or potatoes. In my neck of the woods “chowdah” means just one thing. A wonderfully creamy concoction of chopped clams, potatoes, onions, butter, cream and perhaps some salt pork or bacon.

You’ll find clam chowder everywhere in New England and our visitors from “Old” England are rapidly become as addicted as we are to its comfort and delight. There are as many styles of New England clam chowder as there are cooks in the region. Some make it with lots of potatoes, some like it very thick while others will add ingredients like green peppers.

People are so proud of their version that once a year Newport, Rhode Island holds the “Great Chowder Cook-Off” pitting restaurants from all over the US to win the favor of the hundreds of attendees who get to vote for the “best” in several categories. Robin and I attended this year’s feast and enjoyed walking from booth to booth tasting small samples of rich, savory delights. When I first arrived I was disappointed by the tiny cups of chowder we were given but after eating dozens of these small portions I had my fill…and more. As much as I love eating the chowder the best part of the day for me came when I walked up to the booth selling ice cold beer and the security guard asked to see my driving license to prove I was over 21. Since this is the year I qualify to start receiving Social Security benefits I beamed with pleasure until he explained that he was required to check everyone’s ID. I still beamed.

I’m pleased to say that the restaurant Rob and I both voted for won the “Best Clam Chowder” category. The embarrassment was that they weren’t from New England but from more than a thousand miles away in Florida! That’s not as bad as it sounds since the restaurant that makes the very best clam chowder wasn’t in the competition.

Without a doubt the Black Pearl, located just two blocks from where this competition was held serves the world’s best chowder, at least in my view. I had lunch at the Black Pearl on my first ever trip of Newport in the mid-1970s and the taste of their clam chowder stayed with me as a fond memory for decades. I left New England in 1980 and returned to live here in 1996. The first thing I did upon returning was to drive to Newport and enjoy that taste again.

The Black Pearl guards it secret recipe like Coke guards its. I’ve tried over the years to duplicate it but mine is never the same. I’ve begged the chief for his secret but he just smiled. I’ve scanned the internet and found others desperately searching. I found many recipes claiming to be “The One”, but they weren’t … until about a year ago when I decided to give one of my internet finds a try and it’s close … very close; and the secret seems to be the addition of some dry vermouth. I’d never have guessed.

When family and visitors come to our house this “Black Pearl” chowder is served and devoured. South African family visitors asked me to bring the ingredients and to make it on my next visit. I was told that you can’t buy clams in SA so I packed tins and tins of chopped clams and bottles of clam juice. It was a success. Then it dawned on me that whenever we go to La Perla with you and Eugene I enjoy spaghetti a la vongole so clams must be available! With that in mind, here’s the almost perfect imitation of Clam Chowder a la The Black Pearl:

¼ pound butter

½ half onion, chopped

4-5 medium potatoes, peeled and diced

1 pint of fresh clams, with juice, chopped

(or substitute 16 oz of canned minced clams and 24 oz. clam juice)

1 pint light cream

1 or 2 shot glasses dry vermouth

1 table spoon parsley

pepper and salt to taste

1 tablespoon dried dill weed

Sauté onions in butter, add dill, clam juice, and potatoes, and just enough water to cover all ingredients. Simmer 15-20 minutes until potatoes are cooked but not mushy. Shortly before they are done, turn heat down to a simmer and add the clams and cook a little longer. (Do not boil as the clams will get tough.)

Add parsley, cream, vermouth. Heat just a little more so the cream does not cool it.

This chowder reheats well.

The last time I was in Cape Town I discovered that Willoughby’s at the Waterfront had New England clam chowder on their menu.

Enjoy!

Until next time,

James

Back Chat has added some info for those who might be confused by American measurements.

1 lb butter is 2 cups This recipe calls for 4oz of butter or ½ cup

The Imperial pint is 20 fluid ozs and the American pint is 16 fluid ozs

1 pint of liquid is 2 and a half cups, the recipe will work either way … the more clams and juice the better

Dried dill is the same as dried dill weed.