The Cape Malay Experience at Cellars-Hohenort

Getting to Cellars-Hohenhort is like taking a little journey back in time and place. Winding down into the depths of Constantia, past the Alphen green strip and into what was indubitably a farm-house estate, the idea that you arrived in a car and not a carriage becomes more and more foreign.


A white rose-garden greets you and through the doors of the Cellars hotel is a magnificent Victorian-style lounge, with its plush seats and fresh blooms on each of the tables. This is the Martini bar but I feel that this sophisticated early 20th century drink doesn't lend it's name well to the surroundings. Instead of the dark leathers and sleek veneer that martinis imply, there is everything that is opulent about this lounge bar with its doors that lead onto a patio and the rolling lawns of the gardens beyond. I expected to see ladies in Victorian or even further back in history, late 17th / 18th century pastel or boldly coloured bustles floating over the lawns rather sooner than I expected to see a suave martini-drinking modern businessman here.
So I would say: forget the martini (I can't believe that I just wrote that - martini lover that I am) but this is possibly one of the nicest spots to sip a glass of bubbles as you sink into one of the plush. Worth a try, because I find it so absolutely decadent is the 2007 Klein Constantia MCC Brut which is made from a Chardonnay left on the lees and which has an exceptional flavour. In the heat of summer there was a cool breeze that waltzed in through the doors that open out onto a stoop that overlook the lush and leafy-green gardens that in a typical Cape Town was was accompanied by dark clouds hanging over the mountain. Even the weather seemed to be colluding in creating an atmosphere that was other-worldly.

The Conservatory restaurant, as it is very aptly named for the 18th century buildings is itself is situated in a space which feels like it is cantilevered over the gardens and the floor to ceiling glass doors and windows give the impression that you are in a treehouse as the foliage and old oak tree trunks surround and slope down out of view below you while the wrought iron gates that lead outside remind one again of a culture that highly valued landscaping over the rustic.

In keeping with the traditional Cape farm buildings, the restaurant serves a Cape Malay Experience. Cape Malay food came to the area by way of Indian and Malay settlers who were brought to the Cape as slaves in the 17 century.

 The aromatic, hearty dishes have evolved into what is a unique culinary expression of  South African Cape Indian-Malay culture. It also often involves the balance between sweet and savoury, making it a difficult cuisine sometimes to get right. The irony that this should be served to its fine-dining  patrons aside, mostly because it has evolved into fine-dining, this completes a sense of authenticity of the place and the time you have stepped back into.

The theme of floral that one first encounters in the rose gardens outside persist in the dining room. But not in the décor, as you might imagine. The dining room itself is simply and elegantly restrained with white table table cloths and dark-wood riempie ribbon-back chairs. Rather it is in the food and wine that the floral essence carried through.

 Our wine server, Lunga Sodinga, very diligently recommended that we pair our food with the Paul Cluver Riesling 2011, which was not only light with citrus and lime and complimented our food perfectly, but which had a wonderful nose of intensely floral roses.

We were presented with a kind of “amuse bouche” which consisted of mini mince samoosas, chilli bites and poppyseed egg squares that were served with dipping sauces of mint and bulgarian yoghurt and fruit chutney. The starters are a tangy ginger and butternut soup with a milk foam while the alternative is a delicately dressed garden salad with artichoke.

 Then comes a selection of curries.

A yellow butternut and lentil dahl with lots of danja (coriander) is mild and refreshing. It is also vegetarian. The mild Cape Malay chicken and prawn curry is delightfully seasoned with cumin, tumeric fennel seeds and danja that marry together beautifully. And to add to this is the scrumptious, and to me, the highlight of the meal, lamb knuckle curry, slow-cooked till tender with potatoes and tomatoes. Again it is not heavily spiced but the flavours are distinct. With this comes basmati rice and a selection of symbols, chutneys and atchas so that you can spice up or cool down your meal according to your taste.

The traditionally South African malva pudding carries through the theme of South African heritage to the end of the meal. The syrupy malva came with a vanilla crème anglaise, a scoop of amarula ice-cream and chopped up dried apricots, which is another ingredient that we often find in Cape-Malay cooking. But the malva is just the penultimate South African touch. With coffee come mini sticky koeksisters.
>The menu changes regularly though, according to the Chef Martha Williams lastest creations.   It was great to chat with her and it turns out that she is something of a celebrity having been on Pasella and Top Billing.

Ps. I was lucky enough to have to review this experience for The Waiting Room Magazine.

Les Macarons

What better way to start the month that 
encapsulates a day that celebrates love than with these little delightful bites of pure heaven.


A cliché? Maybe, but I am just too excited! It is like finding true love and after many trials and errors, thrills and disappointments (such are relationships), I have finally managed to master the art of making...les macarons.


These little almond meal and egg white sugary delights have long been a favourite of mine (what is not to love? Almonds + sugar = love)





The first time I remember seeing macarons, before they became something of a cult fixture was in LADURÉE, Burlington Arcade,London.

Who could help but be fascinated by a tower of delicate but brightly coloured confection constructed in the window?

The colour-splashed window (as if it were not enough in its own right, is encased in gold with rich dark wood window frames. Sauntering up from Bond Street and in through the Burlilngton Street arcade, for a second, walking past Ladurée  it feels as if you are suddenly back in Victorian London. No, it is more decadent than that: as if one has suddenly transported into the 'beau-monde' : the world of fashionable society of the late 18th century.
Although officially it was only in Paris at the beginning of the 20th century that these almond delicacies were sandwiched together with chocolate ganash by Ladurée, indulge me for a minute.


And as you can imagine les beaux-mondes like their delicacies and petit-fours. One could imagine how with elegantly gloved hands ladies reached for the small but scrumptious treat when they stopped for tea in the arcade while shopping for fabric. 
Macarons often form part of a petite-fours plate : Little baked pastries that are no more than bite sized.  Perfect for high tea, but for the details in which I also delight but for which you'll have to wait for the next blog post. 

The macaron has a fascinating history that dates back to the 16th century when they were created by Italian pastry chefs for Catherine de Medicis in 1533 on the occasion of her marriage to the Duc d'Orleans who then became king  Henry II of France in 1547. 

There are other little tales that involve royalty and macarons, which,had clearly moved from their Italian home to become thoroughly French nationals. 

In Nancy there is a tale of two Benedictine nuns, Sister Marguerite and Sister Marie-Elisabeth, seeking asylum in the town of Nancy during the French Revolution (1789-1799) who produced this "fine dough" ( the meaning from which the macaron's name is derived) and sold them in order to pay for their living. 


Again in Nancy, Catherine de Medici's grand-daughter is said to have escaped starvation by eating one of these delights. In Saint-Jean-de-Luz, the macaron of Chef Adam regaled Louis XIV and Maria Theresa of Spain at their wedding celebration in 1660. 


For some of us, once we have been transported to that era, there is just no going back. Well maybe that is wrong to say. Like Owen Wilson's character in "Midnight in Paris" there is an ever-longing to go back.  Taking a bite of this originally French delicacy, one is transported immediately into that world of colourful decadence and the only way to recreate being there is to take another bite. 

 There is also only so much you can spend on these relatively expensive delights before the indulgence brings you back to reality. 


All the same, for a treat there is no denying where I would find myself heels no longer clipping cobblestones but the marble flooring of Burlington Street arcade.  


Also close to Covent Garden where having tea at the Covent Garden Hotel was another favourite thing of mine to do, mostly because just post the Victorian era I could imagine Virgina Wolf having tea there (when she was in a sociable mood and eating - but I digress here into another era, so that's for another blog-post) 

I think that more than anything, that once you have had a really good macaron, there is just no going back. I am not afraid to say either, that I judge ones which have bits of almond because the pastry maker didn't go to the trouble of grinding the almonds finely enough. I see that I am not alone in my peculiarity...


 They are things that you crave and so, they not being as popular back in Cape Town as they were in London or Paris, and so I had to set out to make my own.  
This, of course, was more difficult than I originally thought. Like all things meringue-based, they are particularly finicky. Undermix the mixture and you get hard almond cookies. Over beat the mixture and you end up with baked watery blobs. Leave the mixture too long and all of a sudden the air is deflated out of them and you won't get the "feet" that are the hallmark of a true macaron. 

You can get some really fantastic food colouring these days and I'm besotted with this electric blue but pale colours are equally delicate.

The trick is, however, to work quickly and not to handle the mixture too much. Learning to use a piping bag can be another challenge but happily was a skill that I quickly perfected - it's all about keeping your eye on the prize!