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.
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