We are the Wildflowers

cooking vegan with Melissa’s Food Shop

The well known and beloved South African food shop, Melissa’s, has just launched their online store – which is pretty much the best news for a pyjama-wearing, freelancing hermit like me. If I could do all my shopping online, I would. Oh wait, I live near a city now – I can! *adds to growing list of reasons to love new home* I was also very happy to find out that a number of Melissa’s amazing sauces and dressings are vegan and are such great additions to some of my staple veggie meals. The dishes in this post are all super easy and delicious – not to mention perfect if you’re having meat-eating friends over for a dinner party and you want to ensure that they leave feeling super-full and satisfied (and, of course, raving about your food). Alternatively, the salad makes a great lunch on it’s own, the nachos are fab for when you’re having peeps over for drinks and the bolognese is perfect for an easy midweek home dinner.Before I get into the food, can we just all take a moment to appreciate Melissa’s beautiful packaging? If you know me, you’ll know I’m a massive fan of illustration and pretty wrapping paper, so friends and family – expect your gifts to all be wrapped in this for the next year. Actually, just expect Melissa’s hampers. Pre-packaged and prettily wrapped already, it’s a no-brainer for any last-minute gift (which, let’s be honest, most gifts are). From birthdays to mother’s and father’s days, or even a little me-time spoil – Melissa’s has your back.

This first recipe is one of my favourites and a lunchtime meal I have at least twice a week. I’m always on the lookout for yummy dressings to jazz up my salads and this Pomegranate and Cranberry White Balsamic Vinegar is a new favourite.

Chickpea and Quinoa Salad with Melissa’s Pomegranate & Cranberry White Balsamic Vinegar

Ingredients
1 can of chickpeas
1/2 cup quinoa (I used red quinoa)
Baby spinach leaves
Rocket
Cherry tomatoes
Cucumber
Yellow Pepper
Avocado

Method
Bring the red quinoa to boil in a pot filled with 1 cup of water. Allow to simmer until cooked (about ten minutes). Drain any excess water and allow to cool. Drain and rinse chickpeas throughly. Chop your tomatoes, cucumber and yellow pepper as desired and place in a mixing bowl with the baby spinach and rocket. Add 2 tablespoons of Melissa’s Pomegranate & Cranberry White Balsamic Vinegar and mix gently with a wooden spoon. Place on plate as desired (I used a rectangular serving plate) and then cover with quinoa, chickpeas and sliced avocado. Finish off with a generous slug of the vinegar over the top and serve.

This next recipe is one that I’m really excited to share as I am a massive fan of Nachos – always have been, always will be. The only problem with eating vegan is that nachos now have to be served sans the cheese… or do they? I found a fabulous recipe for a vegan ricotta cheese from the Thug Kitchen cookbook which works marvellously alongside the guacamole and Melissa’s delicious Tomato Salsa.

Nachos with Guacamole, Vegan Cheese and Melissa’s Tomato Salsa

Guacamole

Smash 2 avocados with lemon juice. Add salt and pepper.

Salsa

Mix Melissa’s Tomato Salsa with one tablespoon of Melissa’s Sweet Chilli and Tomato Jam. Add sliced jalepenos if you’re into spice.

Vegan Cheese (recipe from Thug Kitchen)

1/4 cup hulled sunflower seeds
1 block tofu
1 tablespoon olive oil
1/2 teaspoon grated lemon zest
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1/4 teaspoon salt
3-4 garlic cloves, minced
1/4 cup nutritional yeast

Pour the sunflower seeds into a food processor and blitz for 2 minutes.
Take tofu out package, and drain of any excess water. Add to food processor and blitz with sunflower seeds until smooth.
Place mixture in a mixing bowl with the lemon zet, lemon juice, olive oil, salt and garlic. Mix in gently with a wooden spoon. Stir in the nutritional yeast slowly. Done! (I add in chopped basil or coriander leaves for extra yumminess, but that’s purely up to you). Place in fridge until cool.

Place the guacamole, tomato salsa mix and “cheese” into separate bowls and serve alongside your choice of nachos. Yum!

This dish below is adapted from one of my favourites from the Deliciously Ella cookbook. It never fails to disappoint, and may I just throw it out there that some meat-eaters (ok, just my husband, but he is a chef so he counts as like ten meat-eaters) have agreed that it’s actually better than regular bolognese! I used my absolute favourite Melissa’s product for this one – I eat it with a spoon right out the jar – the Slow Roasted Marinated Tomatoes to add extra flavour to this dish.

Lentil Bolognese with Melissa’s Slow Roasted Marinated Tomatoes

Ingredients
3 large carrots
1 jar of Melissa’s slow roasted marinated tomatoes
3 cloves of garlic, minced
2 tins of chopped tomatoes
1 packet tomato puree
2 tins of lentils, drained and rinsed
500g spaghetti

Method
Peel and grate carrots.
Add the carrots, the jar of slow roasted marinated tomatoes and crushed garlic to a large saucepan with the tins of tomatoes, lentils and 2 cups of boiling water.
Stir everything together, bring to the boil and then allow to simmer for 45 mins, stirring now and then,
Once it’s almost ready, cook the pasta al dente and drain. Place on dish and spoon bolognese over the top (or, alternatively, mix in with the bolognese and then serve).

You can order all of the Melissa’s products used above from their online store. Happy cooking! Let me know if you try out any of the above dishes – I’d love to know how you found them.

** The vegan cheese recipe is adapted from the Thug Kitchen cookbook and the lentil bolognese is adapted from the Deliciously Ella cookbook – both books are essential to any vegan’s bookshelf, in my humble opinion. **

what being vegan means to me

Note: I wrote this post a few weeks ago and it kinda got lost in my drafts as life got busy. Yesterday morning Andrew and I watched this really, really beautiful heartfelt clip by Kalel and I felt inspired again to share my thoughts and words on where I am right now. Also, this post is not meant to attack or make anyone feel bad – it’s just my honest reflections and observations since that wonderful day – the 3rd of December 2014 – when I decided to stop consuming animal products.

So it’s been just over nine months since I made the decision to become vegan. Enough time to nourish a whole other being into life! Man, have I learnt a lot in these nine months – about myself, about other people, about the world we’re brought up in and the way we live our lives. People warned me in the beginning that it would be hard, and whilst I still am one hundred percent behind the statement that going vegan was the easiest decision I have ever made in my life, some things have stayed the same and most things have changed. I’ve had to grow a thick skin. I’ve had to breathe a lot and learn to ignore a lot. Dinner parties and social gatherings around food still make me nervous – I never know if fellow guests are going to take offence or not to the way I live my life and having to be ready to defend yourself 24/7 can get exhausting. I’ve had to practise understanding and compassion on a level I never thought possible, because goodness – if you’re vegan, you’re not allowed to be angry… you must always be seen to be kind and understanding and accepting. If you get mad or hurt and tears prick in the back of your eyes at the injustice of the way animals are treated, then you’re just plain “weird” or “extreme”. I’ve had to grit my teeth and smile through many a silly argument. I’ve had people tell me, on discovering that I don’t eat any animal products, that they would never be my friend or invite me over for a meal. Yet, at the same time, some of my favourite people to eat with (Ands and Nix – looking at you girlfriends) aren’t veggie and are always hugely supportive and understanding. I’ve had the entire way I live, and have lived my life, put under a magnifying glass – sometimes by complete strangers. Every single decision I make and every word I say, has to be constructed carefully – and it is tough work. But, really, truly, I’m still little ol’ me – dirty-minded, sarcastic, foul-mouthed, fun-loving, deep belly-laughing, crazy-nutter, dorky Keri.

Becoming vegan has required more discipline than getting a degree, maintaining an intense health programme or even sometimes tending to the budding seeds of a young marriage. It’s the biggest commitment I’ve ever made and it has brought out both the ugliness and beauty in every moment I’ve lived and every person I’ve interacted with over the past few months. I won’t lie, I’ve often thought about how much easier it would be to put the blindfolds back on and return to “normality”… but that normal is no longer my normal. And it can never be my normal again, not knowing what I know now. My eyes have been opened and my heart has been ripped out about so many things – largely about how the world, society and tradition functions around food and the treatment of non-human animals. I’ve started recycling, being mindful about food wastage, seriously questioned starting a family of my own and I have read and watched and studied SO many documentaries, papers, books and articles that I swear my brain is about a zillion times bigger now. It’s unstoppable and every day feels like I open up new pages to a secret book we really should all be reading. And hard as it may be, I will never ever close that book.
In a nutshell, nine months down the line, these are the things I know for sure and what being vegan means to me:

ANGER SOLVES NOTHING

Knowing the truth about how animals are bred and farmed and killed makes me angry (and sad). Bringing it to the attention of others who would rather not know this information, makes them angry. VERY angry. And yes, of course there are some wonderful farms and butchers who breed and raise and kill animals the “right” way… but they are very few and far between on this planet of ours. Ninety-eight percent of the meat sold and consumed around the world is factory-farmed meat. What I have learnt through numerous discussions with many people is that we can all (largely) agree that animals should live a good and kind life on nice big farms with lots of space and access to light and fresh water and natural food. We all agree on this – we share videos against animal cruelty and the terror of factory farming and how bad it is for the environment… but, unfortunately, not many of us will stop supporting these practises financially. Many may speak about it over their “ethically-farmed” wagyu beef burger at a fancy restaurant whilst sitting with their veggie friends – but the next day they’re off buying Eskort bacon, without a second thought, in its convenient plastic packet from Pick ‘n Pay, for their Sunday fry-up. And that is what really angers/saddens me. Unfortunately, the way it is right now – factory farmed animals, and the chemical and hormone ridden flesh butchered from their bodies – is cheap. Getting up every Saturday morning and going to the farmer’s market to buy “ethically” farmed pig/beef/chicken for the week is not that easy (and pretty expensive). We have been conditioned to a life of ease – and that includes convenient meat, dairy milk and cheese – at the price of animals’ welfare. So while many will argue that “not all” meat is factory farmed, we can also safely say that “not all” people will ensure that the meat that they are consuming is not factory-farmed. The truth is that we can get angry about our food choices, or how someone tells us how to eat our food and live our lives, but that anger is not going to help the silent victims or solve the very real problem that we are, quite simply, killing ourselves and the earth by continuing to eat the amount of animal products we are currently consuming. Everyone needs to stop being angry and rather be constructive – listen, learn, read, take action.

HATRED TOWARDS VEGANS IS REAL

This was a big learning curve for me, because whilst I was the biggest meat eater on the planet before December 2014, I never really had a problem with vegetarians or vegans. Their lifestyle was never an issue for me (although I probably felt sorry for them and all the steak they were missing out on) and I never took offense to their line of thought – probably because, deep down, I kinda agreed with them. Since I was a little girl, I remember driving behind trucks packed with pigs/cows/chickens/sheep off to the slaughterhouse and thinking, “I shouldn’t be eating them”. I pushed that thought away for twenty nine years. Many people and many non-vegans have spoken out vehemently against the idea that vegans are hated, but a few recent threads on social media, several real life interactions and a couple of tweets in the past few months have really taken my breath away. People (and intelligent people for that matter) declaring things like “this is why everyone hates vegans” and “let’s band together against the vegans” and “fuck vegans. I’m going to go eat a steak wrapped in bacon and sprinkled with chicken nuggets right now” quite literally broke my heart. It’s not at all funny. It’s hugely insensitive to the thousands of animals locked up in tiny crates in dark sheds who are unable to even turn around, never mind run in a field, as they should. Never in a million gazillion years, even as a former fillet steak/calamari/roast chicken lover, would I ever have thrown out such brash statements against a group of people who are, quite obviously, animal lovers with their intentions in the right place. It kinda reminds me of people who were anti-apartheid and anti-slavery being ridiculed and labeled as “nigger lovers”. Fighting for the rights of other beings, no matter how “extreme” you think it is – needs to be celebrated, not condemned. Also, whatever anyone says to try and justify eating animal products is not going to change my mind about it. I’m cool with being being hated because I’m compassionate. It’s a path walked by many before me.

First they ignore you. Then they laugh at you. Then they fight you. Then you win.
– Mahatma Gandhi

Animals are living, breathing beings and just because some people feel very strongly about the value of their lives on this planet, does not mean that those people are terrible human beings. Vegan-bashing is deeply, deeply shameful behaviour and I, personally, would have been highly embarrassed to put out statements like that – even when I was a full-on meat-eater. Please stop defending animal abuse – because slaughtering an animal – even if it is for your food – is still abuse. I’m 100% positive that if a cow or pig or lamb or chicken or fish could speak human, they would pretty much say, “hey, please don’t kill me, I just wanna go live in the field/sea with my mates until I die of natural causes”. It is well-documented that cows cry actual real tears in the line up to their slaughter. There are plenty of videos and countless reports of ex-slaughterhouse and farm workers online if you want to check it out. I grew up on a farm and have lived on a beef farm for four years. I know what I saw and heard and felt, and an anti-vegan argument from a city clicker living in a Cape Town or Johannesburg flat, far removed from the reality of where meat really comes from, makes me see red. And for the love of god, please don’t argue that plants have feelings too. Plants don’t have eyes and they don’t bleed, shit or fuck. A mere two hundred years ago, non-Caucasian people and women of all colours were thought of as nothing but property – they too had no choice in how their lives played out. Seventy-odd years ago, Jews were rounded up and treated just like we are treating factory-farmed animals today. Women in Saudi Arabia have only just been allowed to register to vote. Think about it. Really – think about it. Farming animals is just another form of slavery. Just because they don’t speak human or have the brain power and hands to make weapons, does not make them our slaves. And as for the evolution excuse… I think if you were confronted unarmed in the veld by a lion or a grisly bear you’d change your mind very quickly about who really is at the top of the food chain. The wheel turns. And I want to be on the upturn in my lifetime.

IT’S ABOUT INTENTION, NOT PERFECTION

I can’t tell you how many friends and acquaintances I have who are changing the way they eat but are too scared to call themselves vegan, or even vegetarian, because of the judgement they may receive. And, getting to the other side… as much as I love being vegan and can confidently say that I wake up every day with the intention to live as kindly as I possibly can in every way, there are always people just waiting to watch you slip up – and they are both vegans and non-vegans. Yes – I have eaten a tiny bit of cheese since I’ve been vegan. Yes, I may have unintentionally eaten something with egg or cream in it (damn you sneaky bread rolls) or drunk wine or beer that is not vegan. Yes, I use my leather handbag every now and then (I had it before I was vegan). I’m not a saint, and never will I be, but I will never intentionally, and with my own money, buy anything made with animal products in it, ever again.

If I’m invited to a dinner party where wine is served that I’m not entirely sure is 100% vegan, or if the host has catered for me as best he/she can, but has added feta cheese to the salad, I will not fold my arms and refuse to eat or drink anything. I may push aside the cheese on my plate, but I won’t add fuel to the fire by asking if everything is vegan. So at home I eat and drink vegan completely and when I eat out I stick to vegan choices as much as I can, and if I’m invited to a dinner party, sometimes I have to suck it in and eat vegetarian (and deal with the inevitable tummy-ache the next day). This is SA, not LA, and many people here have never even heard of the concept of Veganism. I’m not going to be the one who makes it sound like a complete chore. I choose to not eat dairy and I have not touched a piece of animal flesh in nine months, but I also won’t be that person who turns ten people at a dinner party off becoming vegan because I cause a scene if the meal has some cheese on it (yep, picking it off discreetly has become a fine art). And, for anyone asking, I still buy and feed my cat Hills Science soft food because we got her before I went vegan and cats need meat to survive. As for my dogs, transitioning them to a vegan diet (completely possible) is still on the cards – largely because my husband is not vegan, and as much as I wish I could, I can’t force him to follow my lifestyle choices, although he probably eats vegan fifty percent of the time now. I don’t feel that any of the above makes me less of a vegan – I’ve opened my eyes to the truth and am doing the best I can, every day, to set it right in every possible way I can.

VEGANISM IS NOT A BELIEF

My absolute pet hate is when people say that my being vegan is a “belief ” and then liken it to religion (this is usually done by atheists or people who look down on religion. Just for the record – I am not at all anti-religion and I totally believe in my God). But abuse and slaughtering animals in not a belief. It’s not something I chose or imagined to be. It’s very real. As far as I know, religion is labeled a “belief” because people cannot physically comprehend God or Buddha or Allah (or whoever floats their boat) with all of their five senses. I chose to be vegan because of concrete, tangible facts – I have seen and heard and smelt and felt with my own ears and eyes what I have growing up on farms. And with one click of a button you can see and hear and feel for yourself the very real ill-treatment of farm animals on YouTube. I have yet to see evidence of God or Jesus or Allah on a YouTube documentary. So please don’t tell me that you respect my “belief” in being vegan and that I should respect your belief in eating meat – because it’s not about belief. It’s a very real thing that is happening to billions (yes, BILLIONS) of animals every year. It is not imagined, it is not something written about in ancient texts – it is happening right here, right now and right under your nose. You just have to open your eyes to see it. Simple. Please don’t reduce millions of animals’ painful existences and every day suffering to an unseen entity that relies on belief to exist.

And while I’m on the belief subject, another pet hate is when people tell me that I should not share stories about going vegan or facts about animal agriculture because those facts make meat-eaters/farmers/chefs etc etc feel bad and that I should rather just “live and let live“. The irony of this phrase does not, I feel, need to be expanded on here. If you don’t get it, please email me and I will explain why this is a “fucking stupid thing to tell a vegan” (my meat-eating brother’s words – not mine). As long as I continue to get messages from people every week thanking me for sharing the material and information I have, the longer I will keep doing so. If it offends you, perhaps you need to think about why that’s so.

LOVE CONQUERS ALL

I have thought many, many a time, that, well, maybe if I don’t have kids, then I don’t have to worry about the earth’s future; let me just live my life and eat all the cheese, and it’ll be good – it’s just little old me… what difference am I really going to make?

But then, I simply pull it back to love.

Because becoming vegan is the ultimate declaration of love a human can make: love for all other animals (obviously), love for our children, the environment and mother earth (watch this if you think I’m smoking crack) and most importantly, love for our fellow human beings. I refuse to give up on us a species and I refuse to give up on this planet. I believe in happy endings and in fairy tales. And this refusal to give up is at the heart of every vegan person. The certainty that we can make a difference – that our children and grandchildren can live their lives on earth as we do now – perhaps even better – because of the choices we make now. Choices made in love, choices made in respect, choices made in compassion – choices made from the depths of our hearts.

I won’t give into the darkness.

With every breath of every waking day, I am fighting against the current prediction that our children will live in a dark world, void of the sea, wild animals, deep jungles and fresh water. Deep down I believe in miracles; deep down I believe in human intelligence and kindness and reasoning and, deep down, I believe in the love that exists between all beings when an eye meets an eye and a soul speaks to a soul and an unspeakable understanding is felt far beyond words and time. I believe in love and I believe in hope and that is why I am vegan. Not to annoy, not to anger, not to question lifestyles or to judge choices, but to ensure that I play my part in moving forward together on this beautiful planet – hand in hand with complete faith that this beautiful, amazing, and wondrous space we call our home will be ours for as long as our own children can breathe and love and make children of their own.

Images: Kate Martens Photography

eating vegan in london

London is Paris’ vegan-friendly healthy cousin. While Parisians consider black coffee and a cigarette perfectly fine for breakfast, London is all about acacia bowls and green juices. Or at least, that’s what I gathered from the places we visited. Two out of the three restaurants we went to were raw vegan and the other place I was lucky enough to try out was Vx aka Vegan Cross, where I sampled a very not-raw yummy cheese quesadilla (oh, the dripping, melty yumminess of vegan cheese) and a delicious chocolate blueberry cupcake. There are so many other vegan places to try out in London that I wish I had been there for an entire month – with a pot of gold! And don’t even get me started on Whole Foods Market. People of the first world, you should be so grateful!

Wild Food Cafe is situated in Covent Garden and opens at 12pm sharp – make sure you’re waiting at the door if you want to grab a table straight away – there was already a queue forming when we got there at 11:50am. The service was fantastic and the food arrived in very good time for a place so packed with customers. My salad was delicious and jammed full of the good stuff! I could easily have had another one – but then I am just a big pig. Andrew had the burger (of course – which I’m not completely sure was raw, I probably should have taken a photo! Whoops) and proclaimed it to be really tasty and filling. I just had to have a slice of the blueberry cheesecake because you don’t really find vegan cakes of any sort in SA pretty much ever, and I wanted to weigh it up against the one I have made before. It was really yummy – not too sweet and very moreish and kind of similar in taste to the one of my own creation. I should totally open a vegan restaurant. Ha! Nama in Notting Hill reminded me a lot of the amazing Raw and Roxy in Cape Town’s Woodstock region and so of course I loved it! Their sushi rolls in particular were fabulous and they also offer great tapas, raw pastas and all kinds of desserts. I had the basil pesto pasta (surprise, surprise) and Andrew had the tapas platter which was just exploding with flavours of all sorts. Nama also offers courses in raw food cooking as well as catering for functions and events. Just imagine hosting a big vegan birthday party – and not having to do all the cooking! Heaven.

It felt so much easier to be a little plant muncher in London and I must admit that it was a bit of a comedown to come home (kudos to the freaking fantastic vegan meals on British Airways though – I was so impressed!) to only one great vegan salad option at Woolworths (good lord, that grain and lentil salad is a lifesaver) and one or two vegetarian or vegan options, if you’re lucky, on many a restaurant menu around the country. I have faith though that we will very soon be catching up to international standards as more and more awareness around food starts happening in South Africa. I have already noticed – in my nine short months of being vegan – the change in perception of a plant-based lifestyle and the eagerness of people to find out more about it. There is so much opportunity here in SA for both vegan products and eateries and I predict a big boom over the next two years or so. You heard it here first – get on it.

Thank you to my lovely fellow veggie friend Andrea for taking me out and about – can’t wait for our next adventure!

eating vegan in Paris

A great place to start when looking for vegetarian and vegan restaurants when traveling is by checking out the website, Happy Cow. This website (and there is an app too) will let you know where all the veggie restaurants, as well as the “muggle” restaurants are who carry veggie options and which ones are the closest to you at the moment of searching. Jussie, guys what did we do before GPS? Get lost, that’s what.

I found Paris to be surprisingly vegan-friendly for a nation so obsessed with cheese! We ate at Brassiere Lola’s twice, not only because it was just one tube stop away from our hotel, but because the food was so amazing! The Chicken Caesar Salad is literally better than any other one I’ve tasted in my life – even before I was vegan. Andy had it both nights he loved it so much! I also had the special quinoa salad there which was fabulous and just what I needed after a week of travelling and eating stodgy fast food! I love going to vegan restaurants and looking around at all the other patrons and wondering about all their pasts and what their stories are in and how they came to choose a vegan lifestyle. Also, it’s so relaxing knowing that every ingredient on the menu is vegan and you don’t have to think twice about any hidden ingredients when ordering anything. I still have to pinch myself when I’m in the surroundings of other veggies – it’s a very rare occurrence for me to be not the only vegan in a room!

We also ate at Hank’s Vegan Burger (near the Charles Pompidou Centre) which was probably the most wondrous experience ever. The staff were young, energetic and super friendly – they even giggled at my jokes so I reckon that Parisian vegans are my new favourite people. And the burgers were…. mind blowing. I had the La Catcheuse (VEGAN CHEESE BURGER IN MAH FASH). It was sooo yum. The sauces are all so tasty and the flavours just sublime – their mayo needs to be bottled and sold! I could easily have eaten there again. Every day, in fact. I also want someone to please help me bring Hank to Cape Town. (Inbox me if you’re keen to invest – seriously) (yes mom, I’m looking at you). There are so many other veggie places to try in Paris and the fresh fruit and veg is amazing too – once again: so little time, not enough ZAR. Can we go back again?

light summer lunches: raw creamy avocado and cucumber zucchini noodles

I know Saturday was a bit of a freakishly weird warm day for Cape Town winter, but it got me hankering after this dish which I originally found on the amazing vegan food blog, Simple Veganista. I’ve made this meal a couple of times and have adapted it according to mine and Andrew’s tastes. As we near summer and are preparing to get our nekkid bodies out, a lot of peeps are looking to cut their intake of sugar and carbs. Someone once told me when I went vegan that I should always make sure that one of my meals every day is a salad – and this dish, whilst pretending to be pasta, is totally a salad. It is raw vegan food, but if you’re a carb monster like myself, feel free to swap the zucchini noodles for pasta – the flavours will carry through either way. I added pine nuts to my recipe for extra yumminess, and you could probably add some beans to the dish too if you’d like – chick peas or cannellini beans would go best. It’s ridiculously quick and easy to make (the most amount of time is spent on peeling the zucchini and cucumber, which is not much at all) and it really is a great meal to whip up when you’re on the run but still trying to stay on the health bandwagon.

Ingredients (serves 2)

2 big zucchinis aka marrows (I used a julienne peeler to slice mine, but you can buy spiralized zucchini from the shop or make your own with a spiralizer)
Cherry tomatoes
Rocket leaves
Jalapeno slices or Olives
Pea Shoots

For the sauce:

1 medium sized cucumber (the bigger your cucumber, the runnier your sauce will be)
1 large avocado
Juice from 1 lemon
A handful of basil leaves
2 garlic cloves
Salt and black pepper to taste

Method

Place your zucchini noodles in a mixing bowl. In a blender, blitz all the ingredients for the sauce until smooth. Toss with noodles and then place on a plate and decorate as desired with tomatoes, olives, rocket and pea shoots. Easy, huh? Enjoy!

my dear unborn

My dearest darling sparkle in the dark night sky

I’m looking down on you tonight and I hope that you can feel my warmth. If it were safe for you to be allowed outside, I would send a gust of wind to ruffle your skirts and lift the pretty golden-red hair off the nape of your neck…. you get your colouring from your mother, you know. If you were outside perhaps I’d send a feather or a butterfly your way – to settle on your path and, just for a moment, you’d stop as you saw it, and perhaps, just for a second, your soul could speak to your mind and you’d think of me.

Were there still butterflies when you were born? I forget now. I think that the bees were gone by then and that the flowers were disappearing by the day.

Oh, my child, the flowers. I know you’ve seen the pictures, but I wish you could have smelt them and I wish that you could have held a soft pink blossom in your chubby little fingers on the first day of spring. I wish that on your wedding day you could carry a bouquet of fresh roses as I did… do you know that brides started carrying bouquets back in the middle ages to disguise their own bad body aroma? Back then, people only bathed a few times a year. Can you imagine? The water was fresh then, and cool and so very clean.

And oh, the oceans… I wish you had seen the dolphins and the whales, my love. I wish you could head down to the seaside on your holidays and spend hours staring at the blue and white waves, willing the sea life to come out and swim and jump and play in the surf. My child, they were magnificent and holy and they would take your breath away if you could see them now. I wish you could bury your father in the sand and build a castle with your mother. I wish you could waddle into the waves and I wish your parents could swing you by your arms into the salty water as mine swung me when I was your age.

I would do anything for you to be able to climb a tree outside in the sunlight and for you to feel the grass under your bare feet. Your grandmother spent hours of her youth hidden high up in a lemon tree, you know… watching the world go by as the scent of citrus made her heady with daydreams and the heavy light weight of a happy life. Do you know there were trees with trunks so big that you couldn’t put your arms all the way around them? They reached up high to the heavens and now they are all hidden below the water. I’m so thankful you can still see the sky and the sun and the stars and the moon, my child. It is perhaps the only thing natural left in your life, other than the blood that pumps through your veins.

Has your mother told you about the meadows? Has she told you about the mountains? About snowfall? About making snow angels? Has she told you about the African bush? About the cry of the Fish Eagle and the roar of a lion? Has she told you about the time we came across the pack of wild painted dogs and how they yipped and yapped and how beautiful they were? I worry that she is also forgetting now in this new world you live in. I know there are pictures of all these past things on the screens that surround you, but they are not the same as the scent of rain and dawn and freshly cut grass. Nothing on a screen can explain the way your heart thumps when your eyes lock eyes with that of a wild animal.

Oh, and the animals. I wish you had the pleasure of growing up with a furry best friend. I wish you knew the simple joy of having a happy little soul follow you about faithfully as you go about your day. I wish you could know the giggling pleasure of a dog’s delight in being let outside to run and play – come rain or shine. You all take things terribly seriously now in this new world without the gentle reminder from animals that life isn’t all up in your head and that sometimes, you just need to run and skip and laugh for the pure unbridled fun of it.

I am sorry that my people were selfish, my child.

I am sorry that we were greedy and put our own pleasure in front of your future.

I am sorry that we took everything for granted.

I am sorry that we threw away our rubbish with reckless abandon.

I am sorry that we did not take care of the water and the oceans.

I am sorry that we bred and ate and hunted and slaughtered all the animals until we made ourselves sick.

I am sorry that we made the planet sick too.

I am sorry that we believed that money and intelligence would save at least some of us.

I am sorry that all our tangible memories, our relics and our entire human history has been lost to the depths of a dead ocean.

I am sorry that we didn’t listen, even towards the end when we could start to see the signs.

I am sorry that we were too proud to change.

And most of all, I am sorry that we were too attached to our past and present to plan for your future.

At night in your dreams, I will come to you, my love. I will take your hand and we can walk through meadows of green grass and wildflowers; we will pick dandelions and blow fairies into the breeze and we will squeeze our eyes shut and wish for what could have been. I will take you to the depths of jungles and we will look up and see the birds singing in the canopies and we will breathe in deep the rusty scent of life breathing in the dark soil. I will take you to the mountain tops and we will sit on a rock, you and I. I will put my arm around you and we will look out over the land below us and you will know, all at once, how it feels to be both a real life giant and the smallest thing on the planet. I will walk with you down white sand beaches and we will stop to admire the beauty in an abandoned seashell. We will turn our faces to the sun and, pulling off our clothes, run laughing into the bracing sea. We will float on our backs and look up at the sky that you are looking up at now, my child, and we will know deep down that we are all connected – to the earth, to the ocean, to the skies, to the animals, to the fish and the birds and, most of all, to each other. We will know that we fiercely need to guard that connection with every fighting bit of every cell in our body.

I promise, sweet thing, I will come to you tonight and I will show you the world. She still exists. And maybe, just maybe, we can bring her back. Maybe, even after everything we have done to her, she will take us back and cradle us in her arms once again.

Image by Jerome Duran, used with permission from Candice Swanepoel.

for the love of edinburgh

When you first step into a new city, there are certain smells that rush up to greet you – smells that are entirely unique to that city and entirely different from any other cities’. Edinburgh smells of old. Not in a bad way, but a bit like your granny’s trunk filled with all the family’s heirlooms – you know – the kinda stuff that’s a bit worn and musty, but man, does it hold some good memories. Edinburgh also smells of the ocean. There are sea gulls everywhere and Andrew was “blessed” by a massive sea gull turd on his white shorts the very first day we arrived! Serves him right for wearing shorts. Which brings me to another thing about Edinburgh – it’s cold. We were there mid-summer in July and whilst the sun was shining, any slight breeze turned the temperature arctic and I have to admit that I wore closed shoes, jeans and a jumper the entire time we were there. Those commando-going kilt-wearers have, for want of a better word, balls. By the end of our stay, I understood why everyone in Edinburgh carries backpacks – to store the various items of clothing required to meet the day’s temperamental weather changes.

But enough about the smells and feels, I want to tell you about the sights. I honestly didn’t expect to fall in love with the place as much as I did. Apart from Edinburgh being just plain old beautiful, with ancient higgeldy-piggedly skinny buildings and bridges, if you’re ever contemplating a trip there you need to ask yourself these questions: do you love Game of Thrones? Did you read every Harry Potter book (and watch all the movies)? Do you love history and stories of war and literature in general? Are you fascinated by mythology? Are you intrigued by witches, ghosts, blood and gore? Do you like laughing and downing whiskey shots? If you have found yourself nodding yes to most of these questions (I see you, Rhodes kids), then I can confidently say that you will love Edinburgh and you should probably just go ahead and book yourself a trip there right now.

We really only had one whole day in Edinburgh as we arrived at lunchtime on our first day and got wildly distracted by all the massive sales in the shopping district (across the river from the Old Town) and the next thing I knew, a wander around for some desperately-needed secret socks had turned into a full-on sneaker-buying fest. (I do not regret a thing). That evening my friend Chelsea recommended that since we had only one full day in Edinburgh we should try out the famous Edinburgh walking tours. I promptly booked us a free walking tour of the Old Town for the following day with Sandemans Tours and then we headed off to dinner at David Bann, a great vegetarian restaurant that caters for vegans too (Edinburgh is hugely veg-friendly – Andy even bought me vegan haggis from the corner store and it was surprisingly good!). It was so refreshing to not see a single hunk of animal flesh offered on a menu and my omnivore husband felt in no way deprived. In fact, we left rather stuffed! I wish we had had more time to explore the many other vegan-friendly places, but because we had booked a beautiful self-catering apartment with North Bridge Lofts, we decided to eat in a lot and appreciate our amazing view (and save some pounds).

The next day, we donned our new sneakers and headed to the Starbucks around the corner to meet up with the tour. I just want to say outright, that Andy and I are not fans of tours – largely because they’re usually always the massive annoying groups with selfie sticks ruining the view of any sight you’re trying to take in. But, and I cannot say this enough, or reiterate it any more, the Sandeman Tours are AWESOME. Started by a backpacker who found the tours in Europe to be lacking in fun and finesse, he then had the idea to start his own tour company where the guides are unpaid students. The guides therefore rely only on your tips and are very hungry (or thirsty) to entertain you. Our first tour was with the lovely Sabela, who, quite simply, had us at hello. We learnt that Edinburgh was the first city in the world to have “skyscrapers”, why the expression “getting shit-faced” originated in Edinburgh (not telling), that Scotland is the only country in the world to have a mythological creature as their national animal (yep, their national animal is a unicorn. I mean… *takes a bow*) and that basically the Scots are the best people ever. Do you know that Scotland University has a degree in ghost-hunting? You just can’t get cooler than that. Sabela took us to where JK Rowling lived whilst writing Harry Potter, to the most haunted spot in Edinburgh (Greyfriars Kirkyard if you wanna google that now and see why the events that happened there between 1998 and 2006 are enough to make you get immediate goosebumps) and to see the monument of the famous Greyfriar’s Bobby. I cried when she told us the story about Bobby – not to give it away but it’s about a dog’s complete devotion and dedication to it’s owner. Sabela had us head over heels for Edinburgh in two hours flat and afterwards, we immediately booked the walking tour of The Castle and that evening’s Dark Side tour (I know, such groupies). Both were equally as good and informative and so much fun. The guides also give you great tips on other places to visit, the best museums to see (and which times to go to them) and good places to eat and party – if that’s your vibe. I found myself wishing more than once that we were staying longer to explore the city more and to head out to the Highlands for a day or two.

Edinburgh made me fall in love with history all over again and also reminded me of why I love storytelling and why I decided to get my degree in literature and history. There’s nothing quite like stepping back in your imagination to another time and place and in Edinburgh, it’s like you’re really already there. No imagination required. It’s no wonder so many great writers and poets and artists have been inspired by the city and that so many great stories have been written there. Perhaps I should check in for six months to get that long lost novel on paper and under the belt. I’ll hang out with fabulous bearded ginger Vikings, live on veggie haggis and learn how to fling back shots of whiskey like it’s apple sours. Who’s with me?

a lazy lunch at Newton Johnson and a bit of perspective

So we have been in our new home for almost a week today. Are the boxes all unpacked? Ummm, no. (sorry Jonathan). Are the dogs settled in? Kinda. Have we let the cat out the house yet? Once. For about five minutes and she ran straight up a tree and over the garden wall and we screeched and grabbed her and haven’t let her out of our sight since. It was all very traumatic. Is there a lot of work to do? Hells, yes. My goodness. If you love painting, sanding, sewing or gardening and will do it all for free wine – call me. Did I cry? Yes. A lot. In the shower, in my bed, in the car… moving stress combined with monthly hormonal madness does not a sane-minded individual make. Do I want to run back home to my mommy and daddy? No. Well, not yet. Although, I have some devious schemes to get them both to move down here eventually (it starts with “grand” and ends in “children”). I miss the space and freedom my dogs enjoyed on the farm, but they aren’t hard done by here at all either. Also, I managed to get my cellphone upgraded at the MTN store at the Waterfront yesterday in under an hour and without having to wait in a queue! They even had the exact colour and type I wanted and I left the shop with my new phone in hand. On the same day! Angels sang and I hummed along as I bounced down past Mitchell’s to meet my man.

I won’t lie – we were off to a bumpy start as the previous owners had neglected to do a number of things they had promised to do before leaving – and so we hit the road running. Well, Andy did. I mostly complained and huffed and puffed. To my delight, the old owners had even removed and taken the light fittings with them. Have you tried unpacking by candlelight? It takes some work and let’s just say that the head lamp I bought at Cape Union Mart yesterday is not only for all the early morning trail runs I’m doing (lol). Luckily, in the midst of all the madness, my lovely friend, Jackie, rescued me for a day and we headed off to a yummy lunch at The Restaurant on one of my favourite wine farms, Newton Johnson. Chef Eric Bulpit served up some delicious vegan fare and we got to taste a bottle of Newton Johnson’s Alba, a new grape varietal to SA, which tastes to me like a delicious mix of Chardonnay and Viognier, and is something that will definitely be a feature at our dinner table in the future. We had such a great time chatting to Bevan Johnson and then catching up over our a long, lazy lunch which included the most decadent vegan coconut cocoa tart. I picked up a ton of tips from Bevan on places to visit in our new area code once the dust settles properly. We were the last to leave and as we drove home down Sir Lowry’s Pass, the sun was setting a shimmering sea over False Bay, and I had a feeling deep down in my half-tipsy lazy bones that despite the lack of light fittings and all of the disorganised chaos, everything was just as it’s supposed to be.

alone

I arrived home on Friday to a house heavily pregnant with half-packed memories. After twenty fours hours of travelling I was alone, tired, a little smelly and carrying a head filled with warm days and foreign landmarks.

I stood in a scalding hot shower until my skin went colour-run pink. I looked down at my hairy legs, and cursed myself for losing my razor somewhere along the way.

I stared at everything I still needed to pack and made to-do lists of things to remember. I kicked the wall and sunk to the floor, tears of frustration steaming hot down my cheeks.

I took the dogs for long walks on land that no longer felt like ours. I suppose that’s because it’s not. My heart ached as my eyes searched for the familiar sight of our herd of Ngunis and I tried not to wonder about where they are now.

Friends called and offered to help but I declined. I needed to do this alone. I needed time to think and to mourn the life we are leaving, the memories we have made here between these four walls and the ones that could have been.

I thought about having a glass of wine on Saturday night and then decided not to.

I slept with a big knife next to my bed. I asked my husband if he thought that was weird, and he said, yes, a little.

I think I dreamed about old castles and bloody dinner parties.

I stood in my messy topsy-turvy kitchen and cooked nutrient-laden vegan meals that I had missed so much while I was away. I ate three ripe avocado pears in one day and drank too much home-brewed coffee.

Most of all, I missed my husband.

And I packed. My stuff and his. I sorted and folded, and separated. I made up new boxes. I gave away most of my wardrobe and found old love letters and fridge magnets and happy blurry photographs.

I hated my country for making me have to do this alone and I wished we were moving somewhere further away where VISA’s aren’t lost in the depths of administration departments for months and months.

And I packed some more until I was in a rhythm of pure presence – mind and body working as one. I packed until I though I could pack no more; I stood back and still there was so much more to do. I took another hot shower and slowly, along with the steam and suds, it began to sink in that no matter where we unpack our suitcases, no matter where we run away to, there will always be surprises and sneaky stones to trip us up. There will be wonderful people and there will be asshole people. There will be adventures and there will be long rainy days spent on the couch. There will be hard work and there will be funny-sunny-sandy-laughing-blue-skies. There will be heartbreak and there will be unspeakable moments of utter joy. There will be love-making and shameful acts of deceit. There will be drinking and there will be eating; there will be arguing and foot-stomping. There will be fat days and skinny jean days. There will be complaining and there will be gratitude – I hope more of the latter than of the former. It will all be as it’s meant to be in this ceaseless circle of living and loving, heartbeats and day dreams… and I will do it all with you, where ever that may happen to be.

pressing pause in the english countryside

I’m writing this from a lovely little loft apartment on the tenth floor of a ridiculously old building in Edinburgh. I can hear bagpipes playing out the window on the street and Andrew is cooking up some vegan Haggis for breakfast. The sun is shining and this is the first time in a while I’ve had to sit down properly and pay my little online journal some proper attention. After a rip-roaring roller coaster week of packing, lunches with friends, dinners with family and a trip to Stellies to sort out some admin for our new place, we arrived in the United Kingdom on Monday morning. I thought last week was going to be painful, but with some distance healing from Colleen at Midlands House of Healing, and a lot of slow deep breathing, it sailed by without much of a hassle. Sometimes I guess you’ve just got to accept the craziness of certain situations and just keep swimming.

We spent our first night in England at Carleton le Morland in Lincolnshire, the little village where Andrew grew up. Early bird that I am, I simply had to go for a long walk in the morning. Andy reluctantly joined me, but once we got going, I was regaled with colourful stories of his childhood as he pointed out the wall at the vicarage they used to jump up onto as kids, the river they used to swim in and the Horse Chestnut tree they used to collect conker seeds from for conker wars at schools. There’s something completely entrancing about the English countryside for me and I think it has a lot to do with reading The Enchanted Wood, The Secret Garden and the The Magic Faraway Tree over and over again as a child. Andy’s mum also has the most beautiful big garden with gorgeous roses, bird baths and even a little wooden shed. I mean – I basically married into my own childhood fantasy. After naps and walks and yummy coffee, our break at Carleton was the perfect start to our trip – let’s hope we get a little more sunshine there on our return over the weekend!