A Foodie Knows No Borders
My dad makes the best French toast. Actually, my dad makes the best everything but I've been trying to beat his French toast since I was ten years old so it stands out as a culinary memory; the first kiss in a lifelong affair with food. I spent so many hours pouring over my mama's cookbooks when I was young. I'd open the pantry doors, take stock, and create. I began experiments in substitution early - for better or for worse. I was not afraid to try and the pleasure I took from a dish well made and the compliments that ensued boosted my culinary ego: I was hooked.
Growing up in Atlanta was like living one big pot luck of food culture. I not only tasted the warm, buttery comfort of yellow squash with Vidalia onions, but also exotic bouquets of international cuisines brought to my hometown by the promise of sunny skies and a reasonable cost of living. My mother required I taste everything at least once and she exposed me to and encouraged me in culinary adventures in travel, as well. I'll never forget sitting in an Ethiopian restaurant in D.C. with my mama and my sister, dipping our injera into mounds of unfamiliar foods...some lovely, some startling: all tasted.
After graduation I moved to Nashville, TN to attend college. Music City, USA. It's there I developed a taste for Thai foods and then sushi...possibly encouraged by the fun of sake bombs:). I also learned the joys of culinary anticipation. Anyone who has stood in line at Pancake Pantry on a weekend morning should be able to relate. Rain does not daunt the devoted.
My itchy feet eventually led me to a waitressing/housekeeping position in a guesthouse in Pitlochry, Scotland the summer after my junior year in college. I packed on about fifteen pounds that first season between steak pie, fish and chips and pints of lager. (Mmmm, steak pie...) I was also lucky enough to develop a friendship with Jan, a truly mad Scotswoman who made me my first haggis, bangers & mash. I learned the feasting habits of many nationalities in that small tourist town at the base of Ben Vrackie. Frenchies will linger over their meal forever - don't count on an early night when they're seated in your section.
One more year in Nashville and I was free, so I packed up and headed back to the hills of Scotland once again. This second season shaped up differently than the first. I spent my split-shifts hiking and biking rather than throwing back pints in the local pub. I ate a little less steak pie and instead concocted healthier meals in our proprietors' kitchen. I met and fell in love with the South African man I'm now proud to call hubby and I took pleasure not only in feeding myself, but also him and the rest of our friends who lived and worked with us. We came from the US, Poland, South Africa, Canada, Scotland, Sweeden...and we all brought something unique to the table. I even had the opportunity to attend a wedding in Poland - a fantastic experience in food and vodka. Did you know Polish wedding receptions last about ten hours and involve half a dozen bountiful courses? Mama's "at least one bite" rule almost got the better of me that night!
My enamored heart led me to South Africa next to live near Hannes' family. I loved the people, learned the language and ate my weight in biltong, a jerky-like tastesation that can honestly be described as a national treasure. I allowed the koeksisters (syrup-coated doughnuts in a twisted or braided shape) made by the Tannies (aunties) to melt in my mouth and I licked my fingers and lips greedily - more, please! I sat in the warm South African sun for hours chatting with friends and family as we practiced the ritual of the braai - a slow and cherished process of grilling meat and feasting I had never experienced the likes of stateside. I shopped in four different stores for our home-cooked meals: Irene's Dairy for dairy products, the Fruit & Veg shop for produce, Hokki Meats for meat and Pick 'n Pay for groceries. I bought boxes of fresh avocados in bulk, cheap, from vendors roaming the mall parking lots. Our restrictive budget (my husband was studying at the time) also made the Joy of Cooking edition I'd lovingly toted overseas an invaluable resource in my culinary developments - I can now cook cabbage and fish every which way to Sunday.
My family is based in Atlanta now. My husband and I moved here nearly six years ago and have since picked up jobs, a mortgage and a kid. Though our feet still itch, we have a support system here that's encouraged us to lay down some shallow roots. We have been blessed to find South African friends in Atlanta with whom we can speak Afrikaans, braai and kuier (visit). Many of these occasions include American friends and we enjoy sharing these rituals with them. They are so close to our hearts that you might catch a glimpse of our souls in their practice.
It should come as no surprise, then, that the launch of Viking To Go, our new online culinary community, brings me great joy. I look forward to broadening my culinary exposures through conversations that can reach across geographic borders and limits of time and money. My grown-up responsibilities will not slow my child-like desire to learn and share and grow and taste. This place is mine now; just as Atlanta, Nashville, Scotland and South Africa are mine. I will taste this place as I have tasted those and oh, that I will never be fully sated!
Thanks for stopping by our Community. We can't wait to see what you do with it! We're looking forward to sharing more with you than ever before...and we hope you decide to linger. I look forward to meeting you and I hope you'll enjoy the stories I have to share about meals grown, prepared and shared at home and abroad. My family and I have a trip to South Africa planned next month, in fact, and I am chomping at the bit to bring you photos, recipes and stories from the land I love so dearly. I know many of you feel just as passionately about your own places and experiences and I look forward to reading them and learning alongside you. I just know I will love this virtual table and all the new friends I will meet.
Will someone please pass the French toast?
Beth Coetzee
Community Leader
