Sunsets, soup and stews

Started off the day with a walk along the boardwalk at the lighthouse, in a blustery and cold north-wester. The wind whipped the crests off the impressive Atlantic rollers, spraying plumes of foam in true white horse fashion, and Table Mountain lay shrouded in low clouds in the distance. No photos could be taken due to poor visibility, but as is always the case, by sundown the wind had disappeared and the sea calmed down, and a splendid sunset lay before us, waiting to be captured for posterity and shared with the rest of the world. The texture of this cloud was incredible, all bobbly, and the photo doesn't do it justice, but the colour is close.





While browsing through an old recipe book for a good soup recipe, I came across this tongue-in-cheek recipe (although in this day and age, nothing would be impossible!) and thought I would share it with you:

Elephant stew:
1 Elephant
Salt and pepper
2 Rabbits (optional)

Cut elephant into bite-sized pieces - this should take about 2 months. Add enough brown gravy to cover. Cook over kerosene fire for about 4 weeks at medium heat. This will serve about 3 000 people. If more are expected, add 2 rabbits - do this only if necessary, as most people do not like to find hare in their stew.

More recipes:

Saturday chicken:
Chicken pieces, garlic, onion, parsley and tin of mushroom soup. Bake in oven.

Sunday chicken:
Same ingredients, but add curry powder and a chopped apple.

Perhaps I make too much effort in the kitchen. I can't imagine what Monday chicken consists of!

The moods of Kommetjie

Vegging out on the couch watching re-runs of That 70s Show. It's one of those cold and windy winter days when everyone is inside and it feels like the world has shut down. A good excuse to do nothing for a change.
Because TV deadens the brain and kills creativity, I am just going to post some pictures!! Enjoy the view on my doorstep!

Gliding in a gondola

It appears that some of the gondoliers in Venice are displaying unruly behaviour and the gondoliers' association wants to introduce alcohol and drug testing.  A would-be assistant gondolier was forced to strip and dive into the canal in order to get the job. It seems that even old traditions are plunging to new depths!

Our trip to Venice a few years back was on a very strict budget (I had 3 euros for four days) and so I didn't even have enough for a gelati or the teeniest glass curio! Also walked a lot. Fortunately Father sponsored our food (thanks, Dad!) and probably a whole lot of other stuff, but the highlight was a gondola ride. We initially thought we wouldn't spend 60 euros on a tourist trap, but in reality the experience is not one to be missed.

Gliding silently along those ancient waterways, between crumbling buildings held together with metal staples,  wondering about the lives lived inside those damp walls and just soaking up the atmosphere of one of the world's unique cities, is something I will remember well into old age. We slid past stairs long sunken beneath the water, a reminder that either the city is sinking or the water level is rising - it doesn't really matter which, the end result is a disaster for those living on the ground floor. Surprisingly enough, the canals didn't stink as legend would have it.

The gondolier was amazingly skilled as he steered us round corners that we were convinced would snap off the forcola or at the very least, leave him clinging to his gondolier's pole while we drifted off into the distance. There wasn't a single close call as he ducked under quaint bridges, calling out in the melodious tones that are the language of the canals, warning oncoming boats of our presence. He greeted other gondoliers, probably comparing notes on the passengers and whether they were expecting a good tip!

If you go to Venice, don't worry about the cost of a gondola ride - you will forever regret it if you don't succumb to the experience.

Wildlife witterings

It appears I am in good company as I give frequent reports on the presence or not of the flamingos of the Kom. Richard Branson is now blogging about the flamingos on his personal piece of paradise, Necker Island in the Caribbean. His are featuring in a book which follows the daily lives of 4 particular birds and abounds with photographs. He threw out a question on how they turn pink and I replied, so am waiting for his personal response! (It's okay, I have plenty of time).

I was lucky enough to see a young boubou shrike catch a locust in the garden and drop it on the brick paving right in front of me. It was unperturbed by my presence and even ignored my dog as she rushed by on her way to get a piece of biltong in the garage that He Who Can Fix Anything was dishing out. The bird pecked repeatedly at the locust as it tried to hop away, but the insect was no match for that beak, and I was very happy to have a garden pest removed organically rather than having to try and catch it myself. I could never stand on a locust and my modus operandi would be to walk up the driveway and hurl it as far as possible in the opposite direction of home.

The mole rat that has been throwing up heaps at the top of the garden has disappeared way up the road now, but a running mole now seems intent on loosening the top six inches of soil of my entire garden, ready for spring plantings. There won't be an insect or worm left by the time he has finished. I'll leave that problem for the cat to sort out!

Flamingos have flamingone!

It seems that the flamingos must have eaten every last shrimp in the Kom, as they haven't been back for a while. Perhaps they are a breakaway flock looking for greener pastures (wrong  metaphor - maybe shrimpier shores?) and having depleted the stock here, have flown off to Onrus. There certainly are plenty of estuaries along the coast to support a flamingo population. It will be sad if they don't come back.

The spring-like weather continues in Cape Town, showing off the Cape at its best at this time of year, with very little traffic as most Capetonians take off for the game parks in winter, hoping to escape the Cape winter. We are all being fooled with the change of weather patterns, and it looks as though home is the best place to be at the moment.

I'm having a busy week with plenty of work and other activities - Tai Chi, Toastmasters, Astronomy - nice to have lots on the go, but also difficult to settle down into doing the really important activities - writing and painting!

The takeover of our ladies' meeting place up the road, Espresso.kom, has happened and the transformation is under way. Soon it will have a neat expanse of brick paving under the beautiful milkwood tree that characterises the venue, with tasty breakfasts and good coffee to welcome us all back to a new era in eating out in Kommetjie. Pop in if you are in the area.

Quality eating outweighs quantity

I spend a lot of time reading labels in supermarkets and researching good eating habits. I make green juice nearly every day with celery, coriander, ginger, cucumber, kale and pear/apple. I add powdered superfoods to this juice from time to time. Morning oats are accompanied by raw honey and cinnamon, and no juices that are bought have preservatives or sugar added, and definitely no aspartame. Every meal is cooked from scratch unless no offensive ingredients are in a ready-made product. A wide variety of spices and herbs are used in my cooking for their beneficial properties.

Jars of pumpkin pips, raw almonds, sunflower seeds, dried blueberries and goji berries line my shelves for anyone who feels like a snack at any time. Homemade chocolates made from raw cacao and honey with chopped almonds are in the fridge for the sweet-toothed.

In the garden you will find aloes, bulbinella, rosemary, lavender, savoury, thyme and the medicine cabinet is stocked with tissue salts and natural antibiotics and anti-inflammatories. Even the birds are catered for with indigenous vegetation.

I endeavour to only buy and serve food that has a high nutritional value, with the outlook that quality far outweighs quantity. I have just published a book on this subject.

You can imagine how I despair when I find an empty McDonald's packet in the dirtbin! I wonder if I will ever reach the stage where I actually give up feeding my family good food and just leave them to their own devices? I feel like it would be handing them a lifetime of disease, so I will persist for the moment.

Pooping peacocks

Having a good old summer south-easter blow today. False Bay is full of white horses and the clouds are draped over the Peninsula mountain chain - Table Mountain has its tablecloth. The wind is icy cold, as if there are icebergs off Cape Point.

Woke up at 3.30 this morning and never went back to sleep. There was a background hum that had been around all day and it seemed to be the only thing I could hear in the small hours of the morning. I was convinced it was Obama's ship that was anchored off the coast nearby that was causing the disturbing vibration and I think the annoyance of that is what kept me awake. I wanted to take a drive up the mountain road to see if it was still there, just to confirm my suspicions, but by 7 o'clock there was no sign of it. Doubtless cruised off to another strategic spot on taxpayers' money. Perhaps Mauritius for a little R & R.

Haven't had much time to look at the tennis lately, although interest has waned since the top seeds have been falling like flies. I wonder if this is going to be a record year for outsiders? Perhaps someone slipped something into the strawberries? There is only one female left with a pronounceable name and she is sure to be knocked out soon. It doesn't have a winning ring to it. Of the men, I'll have to back Ferrer to win, as at least he is Spanish and can fly the flag for Nadal, who is, according to his Facebook page, enjoying a rest at home on the island of Mallorca. I'm sure he'll appreciate some home cooking after eating out in all the fancy restaurants of the world as he follows the tennis tour.

And speaking of eating out...

Had breakfast at Imhoff Farm yesterday under a huge old pine tree. High in the branches perched four proud peacocks. I didn't know they flew so high - quite cumbersome with those long tail feathers - and as one was directly over our table, I knew the inevitable would happen. I looked up in nervous anticipation, calculating the trajectory, and, as if in slow motion, a green blob parted company with the peacock and descended onto the table in front of me. Although lightning is not supposed to strike twice in the same place, sensibility overtook us and we relocated to a new table rather than court disaster. Here is a picture of the culprit and the evidence:

In hindsight, we were lucky it wasn't a hadedah, as they are notorious for coating the walls of the houses as they fly over, and our chances of being hit would have been considerably greater!