I’ve been coming here for almost three decades, lured irresistibly by the stretch of coastline and the towns settled along it. From Saldanha Bay to Doringbaai, the introspective beauty, the desolation and the wildness are imprinted on my imagination, leaving a mark like a bruise. Or a tattoo, willingly inked for life on my consciousness.
There are many aspects about the West Coast that are able to conjure up emotion in those who visit it, and it is often said that one either loves the area or hates it. As someone with deep family ties to the place, my feelings contain many shades of grey. There is much to celebrate here – hauls of snoek fresh off the boat, the creak of the trawlers at berth, toothlessly honest smiles, the first glimpse of the salt pans from the Carinus bridge; pink flamingos wading, the river lapping gently against spindly wooden jetties, the smell of bokkoms drying in the sun, slow sunrises and fast sunsets, the scent of coastal fynbos after the rain, the sound of the Sishen train, a night sky full of stars and the constant roar of the cold Atlantic Ocean all bestow their gifts on the traveller. One just needs to be willing to see the West Coast with the right kind of eyes.
Researching this book allowed me to do just that; for the first time the West Coast became more than just a weekend destination but also a place of industry, of tradition and ultimately of ambition and an unbridled hope for the future. Getting to know the people living and working in what is often an inhospitable place reinforced my respect for anyone in the food industry and more so in the food industry along this coastline.
Few folks realise the bounty yielded up by the West Coast and surrounds and I was one of them. Iconic without being pretentious, the produce borne from this land has its place in history and memory. Heerboontjies, green fig preserve and the ubiquitous bokkom reanimate childhood recollections of seaside holidays spent with grandparents, sunburnt shoulders and trying your first tentative taste of that desiccated, salty little fish – coming away with either a nose wrinkled in displeasure or both a hunger and thirst for more.
With a food history as diverse as the people who call this coastline home, the West Coast has taken on the culinary signature of every culture that has existed, however briefly, upon it. In St Helena Bay, the monument to Vasco da Gama may be crumbling, but grilled sardines, chicken livers and milho frito can be found in neighbouring eateries. In Velddrif, the descendants of Francesco Carosini – a fisherman who created jobs for many Italians on the West Coast – still live today, while further up the coast, on the pearlescent pink salt pans, workers harvest the same delicate flakes found on the Camargue. A temperate climate that is warm in summer and cool in winter has provided the ideal environment in which to grow citrus, farm sheep and cultivate grapes for wine. An ocean rich with fish yields up oily mullet, maasbanker (horse mackerel) and squid, while the constant sunshine of the Sandveld cedes harvests of juicy black olives and potatoes in every form. The bleached expanse of beach running from Yzerfontein to Hondeklipbaai provides rich pickings of kelp and wild herbs, while oysters and mussels grow plump in the nutrient-rich waters of Saldanha Bay.
It was with this abundance – this fecundity found in a place that at first glance seemed barren – that inspired me to take the tradition of the West Coast and merge it with the food culture of the Mediterranean. On the surface, attempting to link the Aegean with the Atlantic appears unnecessary, even presumptuous – the West Coast already has a strong food history; a delicious stew containing Afrikaans, English and Malay flavours. But after experiencing first-hand the diversity and quality of ingredients and the passion of those producing them, the urge was seeded to highlight the area as a place of plenitude that offered much more than was perceived.
A love for the simplicity of Mediterranean food – the basic flavours, the uncluttered way of cooking, the honesty in the final dish – cemented my decision to marry the cultures, a move that I hope will not only encourage you to cook with local ingredients, but to also experience the West Coast as I have done. Through the landscape, through the people and, ultimately, through the food.