with a bit more soul

Sundays in my mom's home, started with soul music and ended with soul food- from start to end, the day was the embodiment of soul.

Sticky Chicken Wings,Chickpea and Tomato Salad, Roasted Butternut with Feta, Bacon and Honey Mustard Dressing, Hearty Beef Stew and Creamed Spinach and Mushroom

Anita Baker playing loudly in the house, the very familiar smell of rice, furniture polish and meat all wrapped in one and the busy commotion of mama's voice commanding movement in the house- I present to you, Sunday.

Sundays in my mom's home, started with soul music and ended with soul food- from start to end, the day was the embodiment of soul. For as long as I have lived, Sunday's have always been reserved for making the biggest meal of the week, also known as Seven Colours (where one's plate would carry such a colourful plate of food, the itis would hit you before your first bite),and for as long as my mom lived so were her Sundays.

It seems quite excessive at first but honestly , it was the highlight of my week. I can distinctively remember sitting on my gran's table, helping her split the green beans that would find their way into her delicious mashed potatoes, as she jokingly told my mom to stop making such a noise with her voice. Naturally, my mom's vibrato-filled alto would shake through the room as she raised it a few decibels higher, almost as if to say "I accept your challenge", while she sprayed her furniture polish all around the room, making me laugh and wheeze at the same time. If only Anita knew that her voice was such an integral part in exercising my childhood lungs (insert a cough for nostalgia).

So here I am, working my way up into being an independent young adult, still longing for my mom's vibrato on Sundays. This longing has led to me crawling back into my childhood, revisiting and recreating all the meals that take me back to Anita and my gran's table and that floral perfume that hung in the air- minus the coughing. Which brings us to my life- on a plate. My plate , often overflowing, with creamy samp and beans, the classic roasted butternut (well, I add bacon to mine), aromatic stews and creamed spinach. All the essentials that filled my belly as Anita sang about her body and soul.

My plates reflect my life as a girl who grew up in the township and somehow found herself in urban spaces, longing for the food that tasted like home. Warm, hearty, filling and not always healthy food- sometimes maintaining the tradition, often with my own twist. All I know is, each dish you find in this section will tell a tale of Life as I live it.

I can't wait to share my plates (in a manner of speaking) with you, and taking you along as I grow into my own Anita Sundays.

Till we meet again, spread love

xx Queen