Filed under: Musing | Tags: Biscuit Mill, Cape Town, Long Street, market
After stuffing myself silly on patisserie and tacos, I was treated to a rather vibey meal at Mama Africa on Long Street. I’d only ever accompanied the Mountain Princess there during the day for a stop off during retail jaunts, and could never have imagined how groovy it became in the evening. So, this in mind, the Avant Gardener and I met the Mountain Princess and her beau there on a balmy Friday evening – after a brief trip along a contour path to watch the sun set – and quickly got stuck into a bottle of red wine.
With rather spirited musical accompaniment, and superlative dinner conversation, I tucked into a perfectly done steak, done with some idiosyncratic African side dishes. The Princess and AG went veg for the evening, and the Princess’s beau was kept busy with a mammoth helping of curry. All comments on the meals were positive – as was murmured between mouthfuls – and I was quite impressed overall, I must say.
The next day we ventured to Woodstock, and my absolutely favourite part of a Cape Town trip – the Biscuit Mill. I know its hipsterish to the Nth degree, but something about all that amazing food – even if it can be a tad overpriced – makes me slightly lightheaded even at the thought. We got there good and early – as opposed to my usual 10:30 arrival time – and did the saunter around the food stalls before going back to the cooked wonders in the courtyard. The AG and I were tempted by some eggs Benedict on a rosti, and dutifully stood in line, but before we could get there we were intercepted by occupants of the French-German stall, and what is possibly one of the most amazing things I have ever eaten: Flammkuchen.
With a super-thin sourdough base, these are something like the lovechild of a pizza and galette. They’re spread generously with sour cream and crème fraiche before being sprinkled with red onion, spring onion and smoked bacon. With a quick blast in a screamingly hot oven, they come out super crispy, and morish as all hell. Ours disappeared in a matter of minutes. This will definitely be something that I try and replicate soon.
Other highlights of the Biscuit Mill pilgrimage included an earthy, punchy porchini butter (also to be replicated), some rather delicious saucisson, and a potato bread loaf that made one question the nature of divinity. A rather enjoyable outing altogether, I must say.
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