Every Saturday there is a market set up at “Old Biscuit Mill” with foods from all over the world. I literally thought I was in heaven when I first walked in. Shark eyes (where your pupils dilate all the way and predator instinct kicks in) were in full effect and I was white knuckling my wallet just dieing to give all my precious rands away to the nearest person with an apron on. The have beautiful tables set up all around the walls of an old mill with sturdy tents adjacent to the building filled with more tables and more food. Out side there are benches made of hay and low tables to sit around.
So as if the sights weren’t enough to put me into a frenzy, as you made your way to the back of the tents eyeing every type of pastry and quiche and cookie and jars filled with beautiful honey, figs, tapenade (gross), hummus- basically everything, the further you went back the more the smells over powered you. In the back is where they make food ready to order. They had huge, HUGE, wok type things filled with red soup and filled with shrimp, or you could get flat breads, waffles, paninis, burgers (including ostrich burgers), and lots more. I ended up getting a potato pancake with a poached egg, gruyere cheese, chopped scallions, bacon, and smoked salmon on top- sooooo good
So Old Biscuit Mill is more of a high end place to eat and definitely a place where you carry around drinks that are too expensive and it’s too early to be drinking besides—I obviously don’t believe in telling people the right time too drink, I’m more organic in alcohol consumption, i.e. whenever you want it or need it is the right time to drink! That being said- getting wasted in a township (aka ghetto) and gorging on meet is definitely one of the highlights of South Africa so far!
I’m referring to Mzoli’s, a famous “restaurant.” This place is a combonation of a butcher shop/ restaurant. You sit at big plastic tables under a permanent tent structure. Its BYOB so if you didn’t bring any alcohol you have to walk down the road a little ways, over glass incrusted sand filled side walks, to a “store” where a person behing a caged window takes your order/money and a person in the back brings it out to you through cast iron doors. Once your all settled with your 6 pack, then you leave the tent and go order meat (that’s all they serve) in this little deli like store. They’re just slabs of meet and you tell them how much money you want to use for each cut. They dip it in this spice and slap it onto a plate with a ticket and sauce. You then have to walk into the back where there are wood fire grills and drop the plate off for them to cook for a while. There is so much meet burning on the grills and there are so many grills. They just keep putting wood logs onto the fire and the smell is so good. You have to walk back to the kitchen every once in a while to see if its ready- they just put the meet back onto the plate and hand it to you (no silverwear or napkins or anything). I got a steak and a cow rib. The stake was unbelievable! We bought bred at this tiny store at the beginning of the day and I was very happy b/c I ate like three slices of it just mopping up the leftover sauce on the plate. I also used the bread as a napkin—it did not work very well. The meet really was so good. Like sooooo good.
But not all the good food in South Africa is restaurant food. They have fig jam here that makes a killer peanut butter and jelly sandwhich and their avocados are devine. Also wicked good chocolate. But I must say, people, including myself and fellow abroaders, can throw a pretty good cookout. Our neighbors (actual locals!) invited all of us over for a braai (brrr-I), aka cookout, where I was dubbed “the MF Braai Master!” Now I’m not sure if I dubbed myself the “braaii mastah” or if someone else did, but I do know that the chicken I helped cook was un-b.
there is a pic of me grilling. . . but i forgot to upload it- i look awful so i'm a little happy i forgot but i figure- whateves i'll post is soon.
I’m going to have to be rolled off the plane coming home or at least be forced to buy an extra seat. So brutal but whateves. I’m in Africa!