Now if you want to really get me moerig, open a business. Spend money doing it. Do what so many worthy folks dream of doing and never get the opportunity to. Then go and f... it up with a "kannie worrie" attitude.
I often walk down Hatfield Road, Gardens, Cape Town. There is this little eatery called Sage Organic Café, colocated with a yoga studio and something called "Inspirit therapies," which gave me a mental image of a bunch of old hobos sitting in a circle, telling each other how many days ago they last sucked methylated through a loaf of government brown.
And behold, the South African Cricketer's association. I do recall some of them being into herbs a while ago...
I do hope this place's name refers to the herb and not the adjective. "Sage: a mentor in spiritual and philosophical topics who is renowned for profound wisdom." Not.
This is not a big place. There is not a huge distance between the road and the counter. Explain to me, then, why their triangle blackboard is lying flat, half on the pavement, half in the road (on a windless day) and people are actually trodding on it? I read the (flattened) sign.
Yummy Buffet. Live Fresh Juices. Organic Coffee. Health Wraps.
OK, let's give them a chance. Impromptu stalking.
I go in and have a look around. It is an attempt at homey-made-ness. It's fugly. Frankly reminds me of the shoddy "second-hand-put-it-together-yourself-from-your-trash-and-some-hemp-string" kind of thing you find at "holistic fayres." Not ideal as an eating place. Shebeens on township tours have more "let's eat here" charm.
Ok, so I get the organic coffee. I expect all kinds of special earthy undertones and feelgood vibes. It's coffee. So I'm probably not getting in so many sulphites and bad karma as I would from drinking non-organic, forced labour picked, shop bought coffee. So what. I live in the city and just breathing the air negates all the good in that, anyway. And let's get real about any good karma I am building up.
The "Yummy Buffet" looks abhorrent. I do not know whether wearing a lot of hemp and owning a worm compost bin makes you go blind, but I was always taught that you eat with your eyes first.
They have two kinds of wraps. Both of them seem to be wholewheat. I take the one that looks less curry-ish, since I do not want to unfairly compare it to the curry place where I was the other day. They are expensive for the amount of food you are getting.
I am convinced this is not actually wholewheat wraps, but simply cardboard, rolled. Only, the stuff in the middle is wet and soggy and mixed with PVA paint of an indescribable colour (and taste).
I did not even want to venture as the "live fresh juices" because that seemed kind of creepy, even to a semi-rehabilitated carnivore like myself. I prefer my juices well dead, thanks.
So, for future reference, let me translate:
Yummy: Looks like death in a bainmarie. Slightly warm, due to an advanced stage of very natural decomposition.
Organic: The regular shit, but at least it looks good on your spiritual CV. Hare Hare, Yogi.
Live Fresh Juices: The oranges were just peeled. Scientific breakthrough. Yay.
Health Wrap: Healthy for the planet, that is, due to the active recycling of cardboard in it's various forms.
My sage advice? Actively avoid. Oh, and kick over the sign as you walk by. Hundred Karma points right there.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Monday, June 1, 2009
Viva la Caffeine
Just to let you understand that I am not just a cheapskate. This morning, for the first time ever, I went to a little coffee shop, called Vida e Caffé. Now, anything franchised usually accrues my scorn in ample measure.
I just feel that there is something "inauthentic" about a franchise, as though the buyer of a franchised business is not a real businessman, because he is unwilling to take the risk of trying something new and making it work. To me it is lacking in passion.
Ok, enough of that. So I went to this place. Firstly, no prices, so I thought: "Ripoff Central."
Very friendly "Ola, welcome" when I walked in. I looked at the selection and gave up. I asked for a good coffee. The guys behind the counter immediately went, "Mocha, twenty rand, that's good coffee". Really friendly, confident and they did not hesitate. Kudos, dudes.
The service was FAST. They are trained to the hilt, even if it is just in making coffee and being nice guys. When the guy gave me the coffee, he told me that there was a lot of syrup in it, so I would not need sugar. If he had not told me that, this little stalking will have turned out very differently.
The shop itself is quite trendy, with some nice Latin music pumping, very vibey and urban. I can see the laptop and iphone crowd hanging here.
Taking a sip, I can easily say it was one of the best coffee experiences I have had in this town. I know, I know, it's not real coffee, it's some mocha thing, but I don't have a sweet tooth, I have a whole mouthful. Given that, it is still very balanced, not overpoweringly sweet or "chocolatey".
Evidently they also have a nice newsletter that goes out and a good loyalty program (thanks Kelley...)
Add to that the free Lindt 70% chocolate sample they gave me (On it's own probably worth R5), and I do not know how a take away coffee can get any better.
So, paying R20 for a cup of coffee is not too much, if the whole experience is worth it. Go there anyday.
I just feel that there is something "inauthentic" about a franchise, as though the buyer of a franchised business is not a real businessman, because he is unwilling to take the risk of trying something new and making it work. To me it is lacking in passion.
Ok, enough of that. So I went to this place. Firstly, no prices, so I thought: "Ripoff Central."
Very friendly "Ola, welcome" when I walked in. I looked at the selection and gave up. I asked for a good coffee. The guys behind the counter immediately went, "Mocha, twenty rand, that's good coffee". Really friendly, confident and they did not hesitate. Kudos, dudes.
The service was FAST. They are trained to the hilt, even if it is just in making coffee and being nice guys. When the guy gave me the coffee, he told me that there was a lot of syrup in it, so I would not need sugar. If he had not told me that, this little stalking will have turned out very differently.
The shop itself is quite trendy, with some nice Latin music pumping, very vibey and urban. I can see the laptop and iphone crowd hanging here.
Taking a sip, I can easily say it was one of the best coffee experiences I have had in this town. I know, I know, it's not real coffee, it's some mocha thing, but I don't have a sweet tooth, I have a whole mouthful. Given that, it is still very balanced, not overpoweringly sweet or "chocolatey".
Evidently they also have a nice newsletter that goes out and a good loyalty program (thanks Kelley...)
Add to that the free Lindt 70% chocolate sample they gave me (On it's own probably worth R5), and I do not know how a take away coffee can get any better.
So, paying R20 for a cup of coffee is not too much, if the whole experience is worth it. Go there anyday.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Stalked: Curryness is next to Godliness.
Well. I am pleasantly stuffed. I found this "tunnel" running through a building in Darling Street. I must admit I was lured there by food smells unlike I was expecting to find there.
Woefully prepared to be disappointed by another potato-dash-bone-tastic-malay curry shoppy, I was shocked to see a place that seemed to be a bit more.
Before you ask, the place does not seem to have a name, the closest I could get is "Eastern Food Bazaar" which was printed on the tillslip.
Stuffed and buzzing with people of all walks, some enticing smells were pouring out of a Tandoor oven, with a choice of whatever you can just about imagine in mainline Indian and other eastern cuisine, being prepared in sparkling kitchens arrayed along the main wall.
I instantaneously knew that I was, once again, screwed. No way I could afford all that I would want to try. I was wrong. Not one dish was over R30.
Add some nice indian smoothies and custards. (I have never tried those but soon will.)
Ok, down to the eating. First, you decide what you want, which, I admit, was the most frustrating bit for me. I am trying to shake a few kilos, you see. So I ordered a Mince Dosa at R20.
It is a freshly prepared huge dosa with chicken mince by a real indian bloke and comes accompanied by the traditional Indian "chutneys." Don't ask me the names. One is yellowish, one is green (coriander) and one is red. Beautiful. The Dosa was folded and cut into four pieces. All served in a custom made container / plates. Grab a coke with that, since I am, after all, a Connosieur.
A plastic fork, knife, spoon and serviette and find a seat amongst the humanity.
The food was perfect. The people were loud. The decor is just right for a place like that. It is very clean. Go there anyday with R30 in your pocket and you will leave with a smile on your face. Now that is the kind of thing that we need to see more of in this town.
(Oh, and I did get a taste of the Dal Makhni as well, right from a very friendly chef. Now I must tell you, if you want to know the quality of any Indian restaurant or eatery, you just get the Dal Makhni. If they don't have it, leave. If you try it, and it does not make you see visions of an Indian Venus on a warm day, leave, because the rest of their food will be shit. Guaranteed.)
Woefully prepared to be disappointed by another potato-dash-bone-tastic-malay curry shoppy, I was shocked to see a place that seemed to be a bit more.
Before you ask, the place does not seem to have a name, the closest I could get is "Eastern Food Bazaar" which was printed on the tillslip.
Stuffed and buzzing with people of all walks, some enticing smells were pouring out of a Tandoor oven, with a choice of whatever you can just about imagine in mainline Indian and other eastern cuisine, being prepared in sparkling kitchens arrayed along the main wall.
I instantaneously knew that I was, once again, screwed. No way I could afford all that I would want to try. I was wrong. Not one dish was over R30.
Add some nice indian smoothies and custards. (I have never tried those but soon will.)
Ok, down to the eating. First, you decide what you want, which, I admit, was the most frustrating bit for me. I am trying to shake a few kilos, you see. So I ordered a Mince Dosa at R20.
It is a freshly prepared huge dosa with chicken mince by a real indian bloke and comes accompanied by the traditional Indian "chutneys." Don't ask me the names. One is yellowish, one is green (coriander) and one is red. Beautiful. The Dosa was folded and cut into four pieces. All served in a custom made container / plates. Grab a coke with that, since I am, after all, a Connosieur.
A plastic fork, knife, spoon and serviette and find a seat amongst the humanity.
The food was perfect. The people were loud. The decor is just right for a place like that. It is very clean. Go there anyday with R30 in your pocket and you will leave with a smile on your face. Now that is the kind of thing that we need to see more of in this town.
(Oh, and I did get a taste of the Dal Makhni as well, right from a very friendly chef. Now I must tell you, if you want to know the quality of any Indian restaurant or eatery, you just get the Dal Makhni. If they don't have it, leave. If you try it, and it does not make you see visions of an Indian Venus on a warm day, leave, because the rest of their food will be shit. Guaranteed.)
You can stick your sandwich, sunshine ....
Yeah. Evidently we are now officially in a state of recession. Although I sincerely doubt it. Here's why.
If you grew up in the same era as I did, you will remember a TV show called "The Waltons" about a family during the American recession. The phrase "Goodnight, Johnboy..." may remind you. That's my picture of a recession, at least as it affects normal people.
Well I just don't see that kind of street level reality here.
Some days I go to to the Gardens Shopping centre for lunch, especially when I feel like a piece of Pick and Pay's famous grease chicken and a Porra roll.
Now, what gets me is the rest of this lovely little centre, that seems to exist in a time - space continuum completely isolated from the rest of the universe.
For instance, there is this deli spot that sells ready-made rolls etc with a bit of cheese and cold meat on it. I do not remember the exact price, but it was befukt. Seriously. Then going further on my little tour, I end up at the Woolies Foodstore. R29 for a sandwich. Am I a lone island of " voetsek, jou skelm" in a sea of mini millionaires? It's a sandwich. Two slices of bread with some shit inbetween.
Sorry, did I miss the freshly shaved Truffle and liberal coating of real Saffron?
The most interesting thing is that I have seen quite a few places picking up on this trend. The place called Bread, Milk and Honey on Darling that sells a (quite) regular (and unspectacular) cup of take away coffee for R15 and a roll for anything between R20 and R30.
And the franchised "Fresh Stop" next door (a Fruit and Veg City mindfart) who sells, also, some very bland-tasting sandwiches (guys, I know salt is bad for you, but really,) for anything between R19 to R29. Again! Say after me, slowly now, "It's just a sandwich."
Now I know these people are all business to make money. But have they lost a fundamental idea of right and wrong? Of value in kind versus ripping people off?
I have baked bread, having worked in a bakery as a young man. I know what bread and every ingredient you put on that sandwich costs, and then I'm not even buying bulk. Can you say 400% profit? And it is not as though you are giving me a whole lot of service and ambience either. I expect to pay higher prices if I go to a larnie restaurant like Beluga. Or any place with a Pirelli Chef. Well enough. But paying those prices at a franchise?
But even worse are the rank idiots willing to pay these prices. I hope you recession-choke. And ask the guy behind the counter if he kisses his mother with that mouth.
If you grew up in the same era as I did, you will remember a TV show called "The Waltons" about a family during the American recession. The phrase "Goodnight, Johnboy..." may remind you. That's my picture of a recession, at least as it affects normal people.
Well I just don't see that kind of street level reality here.
Some days I go to to the Gardens Shopping centre for lunch, especially when I feel like a piece of Pick and Pay's famous grease chicken and a Porra roll.
Now, what gets me is the rest of this lovely little centre, that seems to exist in a time - space continuum completely isolated from the rest of the universe.
For instance, there is this deli spot that sells ready-made rolls etc with a bit of cheese and cold meat on it. I do not remember the exact price, but it was befukt. Seriously. Then going further on my little tour, I end up at the Woolies Foodstore. R29 for a sandwich. Am I a lone island of " voetsek, jou skelm" in a sea of mini millionaires? It's a sandwich. Two slices of bread with some shit inbetween.
Sorry, did I miss the freshly shaved Truffle and liberal coating of real Saffron?
The most interesting thing is that I have seen quite a few places picking up on this trend. The place called Bread, Milk and Honey on Darling that sells a (quite) regular (and unspectacular) cup of take away coffee for R15 and a roll for anything between R20 and R30.
And the franchised "Fresh Stop" next door (a Fruit and Veg City mindfart) who sells, also, some very bland-tasting sandwiches (guys, I know salt is bad for you, but really,) for anything between R19 to R29. Again! Say after me, slowly now, "It's just a sandwich."
Now I know these people are all business to make money. But have they lost a fundamental idea of right and wrong? Of value in kind versus ripping people off?
I have baked bread, having worked in a bakery as a young man. I know what bread and every ingredient you put on that sandwich costs, and then I'm not even buying bulk. Can you say 400% profit? And it is not as though you are giving me a whole lot of service and ambience either. I expect to pay higher prices if I go to a larnie restaurant like Beluga. Or any place with a Pirelli Chef. Well enough. But paying those prices at a franchise?
But even worse are the rank idiots willing to pay these prices. I hope you recession-choke. And ask the guy behind the counter if he kisses his mother with that mouth.
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