Ainsley Ardour

Years ago, as a young graduate with my first job in the big city, I used to watch Ainsley Harriot on BBC and marvel at how adorable he was. A big man with a big heart and a big love of food, he had an endearing way of smacking his lips together in delight as he described his creations. He was positively bursting with food loving energy. I was in London in mid winter, a small rat on a big treadmill and this guy’s fabulousness gave me hope that there was more than smog and endless tube rides in my future.

My hope proved well founded. Years passed and that malaise that can be finding your feet in your twenties passed. The big man’s cheerful face faded in my memory as I returned to Africa and never really watched television

But it seems the power of Ainsley stretches beyond the airwaves and his cooking books. The other day I rediscovered Ainsley magic on a supermarket shelf as he grinned at me from a box of cup soup. I had managed to resist his chocolate cake bars, but cup soup on a cold day is instant mix heaven. I took in the range of flavours: Shropshire Pea, Hot and Sour, Wonderfully Wild Mushroom, Scottish Style Potato and Leek. Soon I was drooling like Homer Simpson.

I checked the nutritional information – normally I wouldn’t buy cup soup as the calories outweigh the taste experience – but here I liked what I saw. Low fat, low kilojoules and no MSG, but they weren’t branded Lite. Give me healthy, don’t give me gruel. I grabbed a box of each flavour.

Unpacking the shopping at home, I put on the kettle. A little healthy instant gratification never hurt anyone. New England Style Vegetable Chowder was first to be sampled. The cockles of my heart rejoiced. I had found the elusive healthy treat that actually hits the spot. These soups are comfort food on a winter’s day without the guilt.

So far, I have worked my way through Shropshire Pea, Hot and Sour, Wonderfully Wild Mushroom and the Vegetable Chowder. I only have reservations about the Shropshire Pea – it doesn’t totally work – but this hasn’t dampened my enthusiasm for these soups in the slightest. They’re easy, taste great and are relatively guilt free. Ainsley is once again warming my winter- what a hero.

A heady Aromatic Fog

It was a dark and rainy night in the south peninsula and I didn’t feel like cooking. I was in the mood for comfort food and a bit of adventure, but didn’t want to change out of my jeans. Going through the list of local eateries in my head, I happened upon my long catalogued intention of visiting Aromatic Fog in St James. The name was evocative and I had heard good things about the food. On went a smear of eye shadow and the little black coat and we were on our way.

The restaurant occupies a gracious space with a high beamed ceiling and floor to roof glass windows fronting the view onto Main Road. The rain, street lights and passing cars provide soothing visual background music while big band classics and jazz standards encourage you to make the most of the comfortable chairs and order another glass of wine from the well crafted wine list.

The menu is full of old favourite like Lamb Shank, Pork Loin and even a T-bone steak which is paired with Tafel Lager. I respect the happy incongruity of a T-bone, beer combo alongside a crispy duck, Pinot Noir combo on a menu. I opted for the T-bone, but decided against the lager and went for a Kleine Zalze Sauvignon Blanc instead. Who says you can’t enjoy good white wine on a rainy day with a steak?

Both food and wine were delicious. The size of the steak was generous and the pepper sauce not overly rich. A hint of fish sauce, or was it a dash of Tafel Lager, added an interesting dimension to the dish which left the table with only a well gnawed bone of the plate. The pork chop with apple mash and crackling was a firm favourite with Pat and Dr Don.

The dessert menu was also a blast from the past, with that eighties posh nosh Baked Alaska tempting me to another course. I’ve never had a Baked Alaska with sorbet and this one was a bit icey, but nostalgia for the days of big hair and bubble skirts had me tucking in with relish.

I’d definitely brave another rainy night to enjoy the warm hospitality and inviting aromatic fog of this feel good local haunt.

Kalk Bay harbour on a Sunday afternoon

Nothing like Nairns

Perhaps in Scotland oat cakes wouldn’t be considered a fad, but in the land of white bread and boerewors, slightly west of Down Under, oat cakes have never been mainstream.

I hadn’t heard of an oatcake until one rainy afternoon, paging through the Holford Diet, I came across a mention of this supposed wonder food. Crispy and light, yet substantial, these disks of oatey goodness could be piled high with hummus or avocado and eaten as mid morning and afternoon snacks. That was my kind of diet! Not only that, but the guy recommending these golden disks looked lithe, healthy and friendly without being creepy.

An approachable face is so important for a diet or healthy lifestyle guru. Fresh-faced and quietly confident is so much more appealing than high wattage bronzed showmanship. On the strength of Pat Holford’s smile and the promise of hummus endorsement, I went in search of oat cakes.

I didn’t have to look far. My local health shop had a respectable supply - 2 brands and a home industry option. Being on occasion a carrot juicing, pseudo health fiend, I felt chastened for having been oblivious of this health store staple. To compensate, I bought three boxes.

I was converted by my first mouthful. Crisp, with a wholesome texture that leaves grainy nibbles in your fillings for later, oat cakes have become my self-righteous snack of choice. Hummus and avocado have been joined by chunky cottage cheese when I am feeling saintly and camembert and gorgonzola with fig preserve when I know Pat Holford’s not watching.

They just feel nutritious. My cells clap their little cellular hands when I pop an oatcake, instead of swooning with pleasure and then turning cranky and insolent when I down a sugary treat. Be sure to drink lots of water if you develop a penchant for oat cakes though to avoid swooning under less pleasant circumstances.

Although I like to think of myself as a brand skeptic, when it comes to oatcakes, Nairns smokes my chimney. Their latest organic herb offering with rosemary, thyme and pumpkin seeds is nothing short of seductive. Thank you Nairns for creating the biscuits that have become an enduring hit on my life’s nutritional soundtrack.