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Posted 4/28/2018

Dining out is at best creating the alchemy of life.


However, much like the interminable chain restaurants in interminable shopping centres, we have created cotton wool around our needs and sensations in order to deal with culinary slush. And so we lose the magic that should be a dining experience.


Which reminds me of a time we were meandering around the Karoo. We were having a splendid old time, taking our time to look for interesting places - not just to fill our bellies, but also to toast the cook, perhaps, or even the wine maker.


We stayed in a charming B&B the night before, but decided find out some more about Colesberg, have a leisurely, late breakfast at one of the interesting-looking eateries around the big ol’ aunt, the Groot Kerk at the top of the main road.


We should have sniffed that something wasn’t right when we walked into the eatery and found not a soul to meet or greet us. We sat ourselves down and just before that moment when the long sighs begin to happen, a young, pretty looking Karoo gal emerged from the kitchen, giggled and came to say hello. Then she disappeared again. We were still sans menus and waited some more.


I humphed and headed for the kitchen. There, huddled, if you will, around the stove, were a small group of young people – I’d say around first-year university-size. They nudged one another when they saw me and one emerged from the pack.





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