First day

So I’ve arrived at Die Winkel Op Paternoster. My new “office” is at the back of the shop, neighbouring the bougainvillea-fringed, tiny tea garden (my blank canvas, so to speak) with all of five tables. Bliss – I’ve always hated cooking in unsophisticated quantities.

The charming old building originally housed the town’s whaling station and my mom’s done a brilliant job at breathing some new life and character into the shop. Shelves are heavily laden with all kinds of jams and preserves, dried fruit, rusks from Aurora, hand harvested salt from nearby Velddrif. There’s a deli fridge in one corner where some farm butter and homemade chicken pies are stocked. I can’t wait to fill its shelves with jars of curried fish and marinated bokkoms.

But ay caramba, the cupboard sized kitchen is in serious need of a makeover. And quite literally, there’s not a lot of room for improvement.

Tomorrow, Michelle (my trusty new co-worker) and I will have to do some serious moving. And shaking.

Baai Kalkbaai, hello Paternoster

I’ve spent the last year of my life as a frustrated office worker, but I have finally taken “the plunge” by giving up life as web editor for restaurant guide, Eat Out, and moving to the countryside to revisit my somewhat unexplored background as chef.

After a decent amount of red wine and a couple of days of strolling around my native Kalk Bay to clear my head and rid myself of HTML office ghosts past, I am finally ready for the next chapter – which means running the kitchen at my parents’ small-town-shop-meets-general-dealer-and-bakery on the West Coast – Die Winkel op Paternoster, or Oep Ve Koep as the locals know it.

In preparation for my new life as country chef, I have spent the last few weeks devouring cookbooks, researching recipes and compiling lists of seasonal, country-style dishes. And I’m finally ready to get back into the kitchen after almost nine years of abstinence.

So I’ve packed the car (chef’s knife, pasta machine and my coveted 1930’s edition of Leipoldt’s Kos vir die Kenner intact) and I’m heading to the wild West Coast.

It’s a huge weight off my shoulders knowing that I won’t be getting up early to commute to town anymore, or spending my summer bound to a desk in an air-conditioned office. Instead, I’ll be rolling out of bed at first light to whip up a fresh batch of farm-style bread. And then some.

Watch this space.