Go Darke

Happy Saint Joeys Day! For those that are unaware, although really at this stage of your life, how could you be, the Patron Saint (and Loa) of lost causes, hopeless cases and cheese smugglers. I haven’t decided on the last pantheonic (apparently not a real word)… eh… responsibility. Although I do feel they might be a neglected subset. In terms of intercessory representation in the grand… you know… *waves his hands around* universe thing we’ve got going on here.

In true Dionysus-tic fashion I ate myself right up to the crumbly edge of a diabetic coma, washed down with Chenin blanc and apple cider… and then Boeretroos¹ with condensed milk to bring me back from the brink. Or push me over, I suppose it could have gone wither way.

[1] Boeretroos… is eh… well, a Boer is… at its most simple is a cowboy and a farmer of Dutch/French origin, which also became a culture. And troos means, comfort. So famers-comfort. Imagine coffee brewed on hot coals in a giant, banged up metal kettle and then poured into an enamel cup… the type of strong that makes you tilt your head and close one eye when you drink it. And so you add condensed milk to it to make it potable.

We went to a place near to us… I want to say on the beach, but really its on the lagoon, although you can see the breakers off in the distance. Its a seven course… NOT-fine-dining experience called ‘Die Vette Mossel’. Translated as the fat clam or mussel, it is intently focused on the South African West Coast style of eating. Basically at its core, sea-food.

You’re encouraged to kick off your shoes (assuming you’re wearing any) and use a mussel shell as your three-in-one utensil as you spoon various deliciousness from the potjies (Dutch Oven pots) onto your paper plate.

Gastronomically it went something like this. Steamed Mussels (still in their shells from whence you get your knife-fork-spoon), then mussel stew with (almost criminal² amounts of) garlic and onion… served with fresh Potbrood (bread baked on a open fire in a poitje) to soak up all that deliciousness. OMG, so good!

[2] I approve of this

Next was Snoek (a type of mackerel, I think) and sweet potatoes. Then… another sea food stew (Kabeljo, prawn tails, crab and calamari) served with yellow turmeric dyed rice. Then… two venison stews… Eland and Oryx. There may also have been salad stuff, lettuce leaves and chopped tomato.

Dessert was watermelon, koeksisters (a sticky, South African confectionery) and the aforementioned coffee (which will either put hair on your chest or kill you).

In any event I had a really great time. Because I’m old (43) now I might be more into eating-experiences than physical-experiences where you’re attached to some sort of safety harness and/or have to wear a helmet. Joey may have reached his tally of brain damage, time to work on my girth.

Otherwise I spent the rest of the day in the pool . It was 32C (90F) and breeze-less which lent itself well to wallowing and getting my inner manatee on. Rounded my day off with chocolate cake and re-reading Scott Pilgrim³

[3] Scott Pilgrim is favorite comic-book of all time. Its also one of very few comic books to movie ports that was actually done well, keeping the flavor and soul of the original. I cannot find fault with it and, to be completely honest feels very much like my own coming of age (in the late nineties early two thousands).

I often find myself thinking how thankful I am to have hit that formative ‘stage’ of my life without smart phones and social media. Circa 1997 (when I turned 18) to about… 2008 or so. That was a good time to be alive I feel. (although any time is probably a good time to be alive when the alternative is death)

In any event I have never had to swipe left or right on anyone based purely on aesthetics… ha ha, when you’re a little drunk, in a dark, strobe lit club bouncing up and down to the Smashing Pumpkins, everyone is a little smelly and reeking of cigarettes, even ugly people have a shot at love.

These days… *exhales through pursed lips* things feel harder for that generation. Even though technology has supposedly made things easier. And I suppose in some ways it has. Being old now also means I’ve hit full on nostalgia mode… and when I was younger everything was better… except you know… George Bush and 9/11, the beginning of the forever wars and a decade anchored on both ends with the financial crisis. (dotcom and the housing) But other than those niggles… it was awesome.

I am. Thanks Ramona…. and yes… I think I might be.

I click on last years Saint Joeys Day entry. Deep into lockdown. Still living in Johannesburg. Things have certainly changed in a year.