I don’t cook. Out of choice. Meaning that if my life depended on it, I could whip up a perfectly decent meal, but I haven’t in years and I’m not intending on breaking the record any time soon.
I used to fancy myself as something of a gourmet cook, until my ex-Zulu girl put me in my place by declaring: “Phuti (gentleman) Your food was okay, but it was never great or anything. Now your homeboy Kim , he is an outstanding cook.” Ouch. Bitch.
That did more than just hurt kiasi…Well it shattered my massive Kao ego. But I still ventured into the kitchen ever so often, and then Nosipho, the girl next door rid me of that little ego left by always suggesting how I could “better” my skills every time she came to my flat for a meal . So I realized that instead of making my loved ones suffer any further, I would simply stop pretending to be a great chef and do away with cooking altogether.
So what do I eat? Delis are my great enemies. I never visit a fast food joint although there are tons of places to choose from. Pap (ugali) and beef from Pick N Pay chain Stores are simply my favourite. My local Pick N Pay is within walking distance of my local liquor store which is also a walking distance from my flat, and I try to support the liquor joint as well, for all that it’s damaging my kidneys, but I do try to drink very little, and make it worth it when I do.
This is where my relationship with the ladies at the Pick N Pay Kitchen section comes into play. Those ladies can cook, and God bless every single one of them, because ever so often I really do appreciate a delicious meal cooked by someone I know by name, and not by brand. They now know me well. I come in with stories of how the Kenyan Pap (ugali) is superior in quality and mass compared to what they have in SA. I Keep on suggesting how we can work together to improve the SA Pap , The vibe goes on and on vile ati I will offer them free Ugali spinning lessons taken somewhere in my flat.
But So far none has shown interest in visiting my flat. Tough lack.
Today being Friday, the thigh rush is on- God don’t lead me into temptations …just deliver me from this winter - am going back Pick N Pay, to those ladies, with a story of how am an accomplished gourmet cook, how I would unleash a four dish meal were it not for my tight work schedule. How I can do a mean Jack Daniels chicken, and my unique southern style grits and fried chicken are like nothing they’ve ever had. I just pray that eventually nitaangukia some nice Xhosa ass to warm my winter blues
Honestly, my idea of cooking eggs is to stick them in a bowl, season with salt and pepper and microwave for about a minute or simply deep fry them. Don’t judge , it tastes fine to me.
If really trying to impress some SA girl(ladies home are smarter), I just heat the ready-made garlic bread in the oven before hand for the place to smell like cooking. The true measure of a wonderful host is providing great food and company. Whose pot that food comes from is irrelevant. As long as the belly is full, who cares?
And just before you think I’m a serious degenerate, which may or may not be true, just consider that I’m not alone in this. As I was typing this, a lady friend in Cape town emailed a service here that will provide you with an affordable daily meal at a cost of R200 per week (five days). For R400 you get two meals per day. Drum roll. Here’s the best bit - they’ll deliver it to your door!
God is there after all!
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