A taste of the Boland town that has become the beating heart of South African food

The chefs were out en masse and in buoyant spirits last Tuesday night at Bertus Basson’s Eike restaurant in Stellenbosch’s Dorp Street. Playful ribbing jostled with happy laughter and that “gees” that develops when chefs spend an evening together cooking, tossing meat and fish in flames while turning out great dishes with memories to match. That is what cooking, and living, are all about.

Central Stellenbosch, the second oldest colonial town in the country, is shaped by vintage buildings and ancient trees, but it is what is happening in and under them that is making the difference. In the 25-plus years since I was last there, the town has come alive. Today, Stellies has the feel of a tourist-rich European city, yet with all of the local history that typifies the Boland. If there is a more beautiful, more vital, town in the country, I would like to see it.

Has Stellies, as Taste Stellebosch’s charming chairperson Daniël Kriel insists, finally, truly, come into its own as the Culinary Capital of the entire country? Is Stellenbosch wresting the title from Franschhoek, just over that mountain over there? After four days there, it was hard not to agree with him.

He’s onto something, and it’s clear he knows it in his very marrow.

I’d already had that thought about Stellenbosch having come into its own before Daniël stood up, somewhere into the fourth or fifth courses (nobody was counting), and said that it is his organisation’s express intention that we should know, and be convinced, of this — dare I say, fact? — that Franschhoek has slowly been overshadowed by the much older and so much more beautiful town so nearby. I’m not sure that he actually mentioned Franschhoek, but the idea of it was hanging in the air.

To decide for yourself, you have a whole month in which to test the theory. September is devoted to a venture called Taste Stellenbosch, details of which you can explore in the link at the end of the story.

For now, we were having a foretaste of it all. Media from throughout the country were hosted by Visit Stellenbosch in various hotels and swanky guest houses — the town has a lot of very classy accommodation — and made a great fuss of. Food, and wine, were not scarce.

I was lucky enough to be placed at Lanzerac, and that in itself is a story I will be writing about separately in coming weeks. Shuttles ferried us, and various restaurants and bars hosted us.

First, though, we were all to make our way to Eike, where my good mate Bertus Basson and his cheffy crew were already sweating in a kitchen given to pops of flame amid roisterous interaction. Chefs are like sports people when off duty — they know how to party, and this was a party, and you could see they knew it. 

Not that they were off duty, but there was just something in the air that suggested, fokkit, let’s just have fun. Perfect. It’s not customary for chefs to have a drink while on duty, but these circumstances allowed for it. (Somehow this brings chef Marthinus Ferreira to mind. A delightfully naughty lad, at one point he photobombed a photo I was taking of chef Shaun Scrooby firing up a load of steaks.)

Bertus and I go way back. No longer the mohawk-topped stripling of his early days at the top end of our industry, he’s matured into his role as a standardbearer for the modern South African restaurant business, and manages to do what few others can match — turn out classy fare rooted in tradition, yet celebrating it in modern ways. There really are few to match him for getting it right, every time.

Tonight Bertus was host to us but also to his fellow chefs. Scrooby was at the front of the open-plan kitchen, his bursts of fire captivating the long room with its veeeery loooong table stretching from the kitchen to infinity. PJ Vadas from his Vadas Smokehouse at Spier kept to the background, true to his shy, quiet self.

I had missed a course that Daniël had presented, being too eager to whizz inside while this was served at the wine table outside: oysters with lemon and a mignonette sauce. But this would be rectified a hundred times when I visited his De Warenmarkt the following evening. More about that little piggy later…

Not in the kitchen but seated near the furthest end of the table was the humble bundle of smiling humanity that is Aunty Siena Charles, who had made the smoorsnoek that was part of the “family-style starters” early in this lengthy repast. This, and Aunty Alenor’s lepelbrood (a dough that’s stirred rather than kneaded) was served alongside the artisanal breads and homemade butters presented by PJ Vadas of Vadas Smokehouse and a delicious dish by chef Marthinus of Jordan. 

Sundry nibbles included sushi by Richard and Charlene Waite of Genki restaurant, madly delicious pork belly Lollipops by Jess van Dyk, and “charred corn jolly jammers” by Bertus Basson. 

Also in the kitchen was a chef I had never met, Jess van Dyk of Post & Pepper, though I must have seen her here and there in kitchens past, her background having included various in the La Colombe stable. Jess presented a course of truffled gnocchi, and another of burrata with roast butternut, ginger tomatoes, red onion chutney and pumpkin seed risotto.

To my right was Rijk Melck, son of equally legendary Ronnie and one of the humblest of good guys anywhere. I was to visit him at his eclectic Muratie farm home the following day for lunch, but I will write about that separately too. Across the table was another legend, Pietman Retief, sometimes called Mr Stellenbosch. The air was bristling with history and local knowledge.

The wine had been a bit slow in coming forward, but a word here and there and it soon started flowing. Rijk and I may have had something to do with this.

“Family-style” main courses soon arrived at centre table in force. Scrooby’s “free range beef chops”. Huge! You have to go to his VUUR ode to fire. Bertus’ open-fire yellowtail fillets fired in white-hot flame, some of it a tad too “under”. Scrooby also offered charred green beans with lemon and olive oil, with edamame and sultanas.

Jess van Dyk turned out my favourite dish of the night: delectably soft truffled gnocchi with mushrooms and crispy potatoes. This spurred me to organise a visit to her Post & Pepper on the Thursday night. More about that soon too.

“What’s that?” I heard my comrade-in-food-writing, Sunday Times food legend Hilary Biller, say to my left. She was pointing to a dish topped with finely shredded, seemingly deep-fried “something green”. We had a taste and both agreed: “It tastes of nothing.” 

Marthinus appeared as if by a magician’s wand and told us it was … kale. Aha! I couldn’t hold back: “I told you, kale tastes of nothing! And here is the proof.” (Sorry Marthinus.) Okay, the kale was pleasantly crispy in its blandness. Everything else on his plate, from the fried polenta to the capers, raisins, sundry seeds and whatnot, was delightful.

Marthinus was back with carrots burnt in beef fat (intentionally), with more carrots: pickled, and puréed. Loved the carrots, all of them. Made a note to visit Jordan too, to finally fulfil a promise I made him years ago to get there. Soon. I’ll take sal volatile with me.

The most delectable onion I have ever eaten, roasted and redolent of smoke, was proffered by PJ Vadas whose Smokehouse is newly on my list as well. I met his parents, former restaurateurs themselves, by chance at a talk I gave to the MG Club in Cradock not long ago.

There was a lovely crisp, bright salad by Bertus as well, and then it was the turn of Christophe Dehosse, who I saw that night for the first time in decades. He was executive chef at Au Jardin restaurant at the Vineyard Hotel in Newlands when it was flying high in the Nineties. I scarcely recognised him yet got a warm, effusive greeting. I encounter a lot of this these days — once the cheeky, even feared by some, restaurant critic, now seemingly some kind of fondly remembered old boy. Quite sweet really. I’ll take it.

Christoffe, who is now at The Vine Bistro at Glenelly Estate, was doing the dessert course, I would find out later, a spread of note that I had to steer clear of (I’m controlling my diabetes more strictly). I gazed longingly at the Valrhona dark chocolate truffles, caramelised choux buns with orange custard, warm wildflower madeleines, lemon drizzle cakes, vanilla macarons and Canelé de Bourdeaux. 😭

His colleague Garth Bedford of Joostenberg had the frightening task of running the evening’s complex food service. Everything went smoothly though I can’t imagine anyone truly controlling this bunch of fine chefs. Give that man a Bell’s or four. Make them doubles.

And into the night we went, armed with slips of paper we’d pulled — blind — out of oven gloves earlier. I drew Muratie for lunch (first choice!) so would be seeing Rijk again the next day. I drew Meraki for a Thursday breakfast, and one of three walking supper tours.

The next evening, our small crew traipsed from restaurant to restaurant, led by a superb tour guide, Johan Nepgen. First, what has quickly become my favourite Stellenbosch eatery-bar, De Warenmarkt (it means “wares market”), Daniël Kriel’s cavernous place where, at one end of the busy, elegant bar, we had the most delicious morsels: “traditional bites” of peri-peri chicken, a “biltong bite”, and a lamb samosa. Simple, right? But every part of each of these simple dishes was just superb.

Adjacent to the bar is a long private dining room that was once a police station. A grand dinner for generations of wine families was about to happen, and he told us he had got the kitchen to cook six or seven (who was counting?) “baby pigs”. In my youth, this was known as suckling pig, and was traditionally offered on hotel dining room menus in the run-up to Christmas. The most sensuous, delectable pork meat imaginable. 

The younger members of our little crew went quiet at the mere thought of it, but veterans are made of sterner stuff. And minutes later, Daniël reappeared with this…

Sadly, only to show us before whisking it away. I was very tempted to return later in the evening to demand the remnants of what was left in the kitchen roasting pans, but for now we were off to the Stellenbosch Wine Bar for great wines including a wondrous cinsault. 

This once ubiquitous varietal had all but disappeared, but is making a comeback. We were served three or more of these over the coming days, at different venues, and I loved every one. We were served perfect battered and deep fried salt-and-pepper squid rings and tentacles, and delicious lamb meatball skewers.

A pit stop at Basson’s Spek en Bone made me like Bertus even more when I learnt that Spek is his pet pig and Bone his boxer hound. I did ask whether Spek would ever grow old enough to end up on the menu, proof that the cheeky chap of old is still there somewhere.

The food was divine (“one-sip” butternut soup, astonishingly crunchy chicken bites, raw marinated yellowtail with avocado, daikon and nori), the wines superb (Overgaauw Sylvaner, so refreshingly different and old school). But — forgive me, Bertus, but I suspect you might actually agree with me — why does Spek en Bone have two Eat Out awards on its counter?

Surely none were expected — for his other places, yes — but this is very obviously intended as an alternative side of this restaurateur. A backyard casual afterthought meant for nothing more than some good snacks and lots of wine, maybe after a show or that one more stop before you head home. Or to appeal to the student crowd. Had the BB name not been on it, I doubt very much that Eat Out would have paid it any attention at all.

Then, De Volkskombuis, a brightly lit attractive space once run by Daniël Kriel’s parents, and where he grew up, but if the lifeless, sad apology for a lamb curry is indicative of the standard of the food here, I’m out. My neighbour’s bobotie did look great, though, and she loved it.

We did, however, have the best cinsault of the week at De Volkskombuis: Stellenbosch Reserve Stadsaal Cinsault 2023. I’m going off in search of more cinsault when I return to these wonderful winelands. (If your estate makes it, let me know.)

And with that it was off to Post & Pepper, home of one of my new favourite chefs, Jess van Dyk. But more about that soon, because two nights later I was back for a superb dinner.

This old town sure is looking tasty right now. I’d travel across the world for Stellenbosch as it is today. DM

More details of what’s happening in September here: www.taste.visitstellenbosch.org

#TasteStellenbosch #CulinaryCapital