Travelling so much has it’s downsides. Lack of regularity, lack of habit, lack of roots. To compensate we establish our own traditions when we stay a while. In Cape Town, visits to the Oranjezicht City Farm market every Saturday morning became a looked forward to treat. It was (nearly) all about food. And mostly about eating it.
Some even took their own plate!
The raw stuff looked pretty good.
The cooked stuff even better.
We always had lunch. I always meant to try the mushroom kebabs but never got around to it. The lure of the veggie bobotie with a wealth of side dishes sold by a Welshman was just too great. ‘My wife is always thinking up new recipes’, he told me. It inspired me to make my own version. A mix of lentils, sweet fruit and pumpkin and the tang of chutney, topped off with a creamy, golden egg mixture.
Sometimes, I had room for cake.
There were even traditional mince pies at Christmas. I didn’t have to eat cake. There was also bread. Very good bread from the Woodstock Bakery.
But the line was always too long!
There was always plenty to look at.
This little Yorkie has got his eye on the Karoo Blue.
And it was nearly – but not quite – all about food.
My absolute favourite was the monthly appearance of the Sidewalk Specials. A charity working to re-home abandoned dogs. Oscar had been run over and had a broken leg. I would take them all if I could.
But his story has a happy ending. He found his forever mum.
The Oranjezicht Market was the best way to spend our Saturday mornings. Slow. Easy to strike up conversation with strangers. Alongside the ocean. Great food. Like Oscar, we felt happy to be there.
Market held every Saturday 09.00-14.00. Rain or shine. Granger Bay.