A witty, elegant — and damn good — debut by Insta legend Fehmida ‘Fehmz’ Jordaan

Fehmida Jordaan (aka Fehmz) is a Johannesburg-based foodie force of nature. She has garnered more than 300,000 followers on Instagram with charming, deeply delicious and achingly beautiful homestyle cooking videos. Her signature blend of self-deprecating wit and unfussy elegance is simultaneously accessible and aspirational. On camera she appears to be lit from within by joy’s eternal flame. This epicurean ebullience is evident on every page of her debut cookbook, Damn Good Food.  

While many of the recipes reflect the author’s South African Indian diaspora ancestry, her influences stretch far and wide. Moroccan soup and bechamel-smothered, chicken-stuffed pasta shells compete for reader attention with saffron and cardamom-laden sojee semolina pudding, perfect prawn curry, mebos chutney and a carrot atchar so exquisite that I ate an entire batch with a spoon.

Fehmz is also the queen of OTT, gourmet reconfigurations of junk food classics. Her take on the legendary Akhalwaya’s corner café slap tjips, masala steak and ghee-fried pink polony sandwich is a cholesterol-kissed delight. There are very few instances when use of the word “awesome” can be justified, but the contrasting taste and texture of sweet, sour, salty and spicy marshmallow treats on page 184 is one such occasion. There is a mad majesty to the melange of melted dark chocolate, miniature marshmallows, chili flakes and crinkle-cut salt and vinegar Simba chippies. It shouldn’t work. And yet – wow. It’s culinary chaos theory in action: flavour turbulence, wild and wonderful.

Each recipe is introduced with an autobiographical explanation of origin that is at once bravely intimate and universally relatable. She is unfailingly generous in her acknowledgement of others. The beautifully written vignettes of people, places and flavours from her childhood reminded me of Chris van Wyk’s Riverlea coming-of-age memoir, Shirley, Goodness and Mercy. The gaze is affectionate and respectful but never veers off into mawkish sentimentality. Lenasia petrol head, drag race pancake stacks share space with Nani’s tin can steamed mealie bread, and Aunty Pinky’s fish pilau.

Faith is clearly central to Fehmz’s sense of self and reason for being, but her writing does not exclude those who do not share her religion. In a world where Muslim women are so often othered, her depiction of Islam-specific moments is entirely relatable to unbelievers. In addition to a superb selection of Eid feast treats she brings us the tragic but ultimately redemptive tale of how she lost and found a much-loved lemon chicken. When the only Halaal branch of a well-known pizza parlour closed, the author’s access to a favourite menu item, pollo limone, was abruptly ended. Longing is the mother of invention, and in this case, it pushed Fehmz to create the version that is now resplendent on page 85 of Damn Good Food.

Absolutely everything in the book made me want to pick up a pot and cook. Recipes dance off the page insisting that they must immediately take a turn at the stove. An overarching ethos of supportive sweetness ensures that no kitchen soldier is left behind. Even the most inexperienced cook is armed with techniques and tips to proceed with confidence. The first chapter contains all the base recipes that are necessary to make those that follow. If a dish later in the book calls for red, ginger, garlic paste, ghee or peri-peri oil then the opening section of Damn Good Food includes the recipe. Step-by-step pictures accompany potentially tricky techniques such as samosa folding. Outwardly impressive but deceptively simple recipes (such as the beautiful Basque cheesecake on page 145) abound.

Damn Good Food’s subtitle says, “foolproof recipes that bring joy to everyday cooking”. This promise is undoubtedly fulfilled because happiness is infused into all of Fehmz’s food writing, but her delight never tips over into trite or smug self-satisfaction. The author seems genuinely surprised that she has found a way to make a life for herself doing the thing that she loves. There are profoundly moving moments of quiet, contemplative shade amid the light bright and sparkling glitter of recipes and anecdotes. Her culinary and personal confidence have clearly taken time to develop. Body image issues and insecurity sting at the edge of several stories. Layered life experience translates into an honest and intriguing complexity on page and plate.

It is obvious that I like this book a lot. I would go so far as to say it is my favourite cookbook published this year. I do have one minor quibble – because I am the Madame Defarge of noticing and nitpicking at all the small stuff that nicer people let drop. My issue is with the pictures which are very pretty but remarkably similar in styling to several other South African cookbooks published in recent years. Don’t believe me? Check out the props and palette in Lientjie Wessel’s Geure (2019). Long before I looked at the credits, I could see that the same stylist had been used. I love Lientjie’s book, but Fehmz has an entirely different, dynamic spirit, and the images do not capture that individuality. 

Ultimately the recipes and writing are so good that nothing else matters. This is a terrific debut that deserves to be a huge hit. If you buy only one cookbook this year, Damn Good Food should be it.

Here is the recipe for… 

Fehmz’s Prawn coconut curry

(Serves 4-6)

I love seafood, but especially prawns. Problem is, my kids love them just as much. This is a way to stretch prawn meat for a cost-effective and crazy delicious meal! I love the combo of coconut and prawns, as it gives a Thai feel to it. It goes very well with garlic bread or sticky jasmine rice. The best part? You can whip it up in 20 minutes max.

Ingredients

Step 1

3 tbsp peri-peri oil

⅓ cup ghee

½ tsp cumin seeds

Handful of curry leaves

1 tsp salt

1 large garlic clove,

crushed

1 level tsp turmeric

1 tsp Universal Red

Magic Masala Paste

1 tsp cumin seeds, crushed

⅓ cup desiccated coconut

½ tsp coriander powder

Pinch of garam masala

1 heaped tsp tamarind paste

1 heaped tsp chilli powder

1 tsp smoked paprika

1 stalk chopped lemongrass (optional)

2 onions, grated or blitzed in the food processor

Step 2

2 kg prawns, peeled and deveined

2 tomatoes, liquidised

Pinch of sugar

2 tbsp tomato paste

1 tin (340 g) coconut cream

To garnish

Chopped coriander

Squeeze of lemon

Method

Step 1

1. In a large saucepan on medium heat, add the peri-peri oil and ghee with the cumin seeds and curry leaves.
2. Heat gently, then add the balance of ingredients except for the onions. Fry the spices and marinade until slightly fragrant.
3. Add the onions to the same pot and sauté for about 2-3 minutes.

Step 2

1. Now turn up the heat. Add the prawns and fry for 1 minute on

each side to sear and release the flavour. Remove the prawns from the saucepan.

2. Now add the tomatoes, sugar and tomato paste. Simmer into a curry.
3. Return the prawns to the saucepan once the oil skims to the top.
4. Pour in the coconut cream to complete the cooking.
5. Garnish with chopped coriander and a squeeze of fresh lemon.
6. Serve with jasmine rice or turn this into a delicious pasta by folding in 1 packet of freshly boiled al dente linguine plus 1 ladle of pasta water. DM

Damn Good Food; Fehmida (Fehmz) Jordaan. Human & Rousseau. R420 RRP