Dear Nic Dawes
I read your article deploring the state of Jo’burg’s restaurant scene and, like every other South African with taste buds, I agree.
I’m not going to suggest trying one of the comforting cafés in and around the parks that, although delicious, appear to be stuck in a Masterchef challenge, confining themselves to a variation of the same 10 ingredients. I like parmesan, rocket and garlic as much as the next non-vampire but I also know that, when it comes to eating out, an experience can surprise, delight and take you from nourishment to nirvana in a mouthful. People in Jo’burg work really hard and they’re really nice — they deserve nirvana.
However, I don’t think the challenge will be an easy one to overcome and not because of a lack of culinary skills or a shortage of epicureans sniffing around to appreciate them. I suspect that the problem is at the source, at the start-up, at the place where some passionate foodie takes a just-for-the-sake-of-delicious induced risk and opens a great restaurant — someone who is committed to taste, quality and personality and not just another restaurateur looking to franchise in five minutes so the quality can reduce quicker than the sauce on the stove.
I suspect that for the former, the idea of creating a space to share the fundamentals of food and conversation cannot only be a business with a profit motive. This is because a sanctuary of deliciousness is essentially an extension of a home — it’s made up of whole days, hand-picked ingredients and oven scars. It’s an unending investment because it’s a life.
Sadly for many people living in Jo’burg, when they think of unending they don’t think of Jo’burg. For too many of us, Jo’burg is a petrol station on the way to the place where we one day want to live. It’s a delayed space of transition where we can make money so we can spend it in New York, Sydney or Cape Town.
A city void of a bustling, non-franchised, “established in 19-whatever” restaurant scene speaks volumes for a lack of commitment to the place that ironically we inhabit for the biggest part of our lives. Perhaps historically our city has been steeped in uncertainty but is it still deemed to be so? Are we really scared that the city will implode when Julius starts humming? Are we staying or going?
Last year I withheld my savings from lining the pockets of Famous Brands to escape to New York for taste-bud enlightenment. I was taken to an out-of-the-way neighbourhood near Brooklyn to a restaurant in the backyard of someone’s house.
Someone brought out a tray of iced jam jars with raspberries and something like prosecco in them. With a red-lipped laugh she answered my awe-inspired questions — then served other customers before heading back to the little kitchen to fetch a plate of rosemary-flavoured patatas bravas.
While sitting amid the facebrick, beneath the ubiquitous American flag and the occasional city-smoked star, there was an sense that the people around me were there to stay.
Commitment to a backyard restaurant and a city could not only be tasted but also seen in the care that went into seasonal menus and the late-night acoustic guitar.
I believe your article was met with a torrent of excuses pointing out that locals eat good meals with friends at home rather than eating out. This is true — there is no shortage of good food and character in homes throughout Jo’burg. The absence of good restaurants instead stems from the reluctance to make Jo’burg as a whole home.
Improving Jo’burg’s quality of life goes beyond municipal service delivery — it requires individual efforts to create fine-quality restaurants and to keep well-kept parks well used.
Even for those with feet un-grounded, there are a number of meals to be eaten before retiring to the coast.
Grateful regards,
Jacqui Landey