SOUTH AFRICAN CULINARY HERITAGE
The book South African Culinary Heritage by Eunice Rakhale, is about local food history and traditions interlaced with family conversations. It illustrates the culinary diversity of Southern African cuisine and some neighbouring countries, comparing the similarities and unique palatable heritages thereof. Written in a conversational style, the book is a handy culinary compilation which will bestow the reader with explorations regarding local African lifestyles history, art, clothing, music and perhaps even some song and dance. For tourists visiting these African countries – possessing a diversity of ethnic cultures, it is a worthy read regarding heritage and of-course African cuisine. A guide which should be included in any tourist’s travel pack and families. It is about a genuine story told with an extraordinary ability that draws parallel between the author’s struggle in the restaurant industry and in her personal life. Ultimately, her passion for food is where she finds solace to learn, heal and grow. Mother Daughter relationships can be extremely complex and Eunice is no exception. In the book, besides a plethora of authentic recipes and history, she shares candidly about her strained relationship with her daughter Mothei Makhetha. Being estranged for seven years, Mothei writes her mother a letter, in a desperate cry for help, which she hopes will begin the healing process. After receiving the letter, circumstances of her life took Eunice back home to her mother in Moletsane, Soweto. This happens while she is researching her culinary book authenticating the recipes through the help of her mother. This handing down of recipes from her mother gets them connected on a very deep level, thus, creating compassion and trust they never had. In desperation Eunice seeks counselling from her own mother to try and mend the relationship with her daughter. Their journey is one of true and sincere conversations handed down from one generation to another, around family meals and prayerful family meetings.
The book South African Culinary Heritage by Eunice Rakhale, is about local food history and traditions interlaced with family conversations. It illustrates the culinary diversity of Southern African cuisine and some neighbouring countries, comparing the similarities and unique palatable heritages thereof. Written in a conversational style, the book is a handy culinary compilation which will bestow the reader with explorations regarding local African lifestyles history, art, clothing, music and perhaps even some song and dance. For tourists visiting these African countries – possessing a diversity of ethnic cultures, it is a worthy read regarding heritage and of-course African cuisine. A guide which should be included in any tourist’s travel pack and families.
It is about a genuine story told with an extraordinary ability that draws parallel between the author’s struggle in the restaurant industry and in her personal life. Ultimately, her passion for food is where she finds solace to learn, heal and grow.
Mother Daughter relationships can be extremely complex and Eunice is no exception. In the book, besides a plethora of authentic recipes and history, she shares candidly about her strained relationship with her daughter Mothei Makhetha. Being estranged for seven years, Mothei writes her mother a letter, in a desperate cry for help, which she hopes will begin the healing process. After receiving the letter, circumstances of her life took Eunice back home to her mother in Moletsane, Soweto. This happens while she is researching her culinary book authenticating the recipes through the help of her mother. This handing down of recipes from her mother gets them connected on a very deep level, thus, creating compassion and trust they never had. In desperation Eunice seeks counselling from her own mother to try and mend the relationship with her daughter.
Their journey is one of true and sincere conversations handed down from one generation to another, around family meals and prayerful family meetings.
Create successful ePaper yourself
Turn your PDF publications into a flip-book with our unique Google optimized e-Paper software.
Eunice Rakhale-Molefe
The launch of the coffee table book gave me a new lease on
life. Unintentionally, so, it had also become a means to
celebrate my life; with all its flaws. The recipes became
conversational pieces that had symbolically facilitated the
process of picking up the remnants of my life. In picking up
the pieces, I had to unlearn some destructive character traits
that had become part of my way of surviving. Like taking
things personally, for instance.
“Not every discussion is about you Mama.”
My daughter Mothei kept telling me this, over, and over.
The more she had said this, the more I had become
offended, failing to understand what she had really meant. I
had also been failing to understand how my situation had
impacted on my beloved children – not paying attention,
completely, until I had lost everything including critical
relationships.
“Bohlale ba phala bo tswa phalaneng,” so says my late mother’s
favourite Sesotho proverb. What my mother was saying is that we must
listen to our children, without being preoccupied with being right – the
elders, and mature people learning objectively from the young, as it were.
The well-intended advice from so many people around me,
had always fallen on deaf ears. But life, in all its goodness,
was speaking to me, loudly, but I could not or would not
listen. The dynamics of my personal life were complicating
an already complex business situation. In my desperation to
save the imminent loss of the restaurant, illogical errors of
judgment were made. What followed was one disaster after
another. As if addicted to this ruinous life, money continued
to go down the drain. Not unexpected, in no time I had lost
everything.
“You cannot fall from the floor, Eunice.”
I had said this to myself, unceasingly, trying to keep myself
afloat while I was spending sleepless nights on the floor in
a rented room. For the next two years, this rented room
became my home. As I had learnt to impersonalise matters,
186
Change language