At The Africa Cafe we are not only famous for our food but for our decor as well.  We include our vibrant tableware in this category as each piece is carefully and caringly hand-painted at our ceramic studio with bold colours and patterns, bringing some of the art of Africa on to every table top.  Having the opportunity to also be involved in the creative process of these beautiful wares is a real privilege, but most of the credit has to go to those who work for us and do the painting. Our craftspeople come from the winelands, the city and the township. Some are trained and some learnt on the job. One picked grapes for an estate, another painted gold-leaf onto a lion on top of City Hall for six weeks.

Our head of design is Mfuneko Dingiswayo who was born in Langa, a township of Cape Town, in 1979.  His passion for his craft has been shown numerous times in the awards he has won for his beautiful one-off works as well as the success of the designs he creates for our various ranges of tableware and functional art.  Currently the Hornbill Bird Jug which Mfuneko created as a menu for the restaurant 3 years ago has been flying out of the studio faster than it can be produced!  Those who have recently dined with us will definitely have noticed the baby that was born of the original idea and which we use for our salad dressing.

Mfuneko Dingiswayo

This morning I was walking in Newlands forest and staring at my favourite section of the mountain with great fondness in my heart and I thought I must whip out my cell phone and snap it to share on the world wide web.  Cape Town is one of the most diverse cities in the world with world class beaches, mountain ranges, forests and spectacular valley’s all within 15 minutes drive from the CBD.  This is just one of the many reasons why I love living here and why I believe Cape Town is definitely a destination every nature-loving traveller should visit.  I invite you to sit back, take a long, deep breath and let the joy of my sky, my forest and my mountain fill your heart with peace as only nature can.  Happy Friday! Remo

The Invitation
by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

Chief Seattle – 1853

“The President in Washington sends word that he wishes to buy our land. But how can you buy or sell the sky? the land? The idea is strange to us. If we do not own the freshness of the air and the sparkle of the water, how can you buy them?

Every part of the earth is sacred to my people. Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods, every meadow, every humming insect. All are holy in the memory and experience of my people.

We know the sap which courses through the trees as we know the blood that courses through our veins. We are part of the earth and it is part of us. The perfumed flowers are our sisters. The bear, the deer, the great eagle, these are our brothers. The rocky crests, the dew in the meadow, the body heat of the pony, and man all belong to the same family.

The shining water that moves in the streams and rivers is not just water, but the blood of our ancestors. If we sell you our land, you must remember that it is sacred. Each glossy reflection in the clear waters of the lakes tells of events and memories in the life of my people. The water’s murmur is the voice of my father’s father.

The rivers are our brothers. They quench our thirst. They carry our canoes and feed our children. So you must give the rivers the kindness that you would give any brother.

If we sell you our land, remember that the air is precious to us, that the air shares its spirit with all the life that it supports. The wind that gave our grandfather his first breath also received his last sigh. The wind also gives our children the spirit of life. So if we sell our land, you must keep it apart and sacred, as a place where man can go to taste the wind that is sweetened by the meadow flowers.

Will you teach your children what we have taught our children? That the earth is our mother? What befalls the earth befalls all the sons of the earth.

This we know: the earth does not belong to man, man belongs to the earth. All things are connected like the blood that unites us all. Man did not weave the web of life, he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.

One thing we know: our God is also your God. The earth is precious to him and to harm the earth is to heap contempt on its creator.

Your destiny is a mystery to us. What will happen when the buffalo are all slaughtered? The wild horses tamed? What will happen when the secret corners of the forest are heavy with the scent of many men and the view of the ripe hills is blotted with talking wires? Where will the thicket be? Gone! Where will the eagle be? Gone! And what is to say goodbye to the swift pony and then hunt? The end of living and the beginning of survival.

When the last red man has vanished with this wilderness, and his memory is only the shadow of a cloud moving across the prairie, will these shores and forests still be here? Will there be any of the spirit of my people left?

We love this earth as a newborn loves its mother’s heartbeat. So, if we sell you our land, love it as we have loved it. Care for it, as we have cared for it. Hold in your mind the memory of the land as it is when you receive it. Preserve the land for all children, and love it, as God loves us.

As we are part of the land, you too are part of the land. This earth is precious to us. It is also precious to you.

One thing we know – there is only one God. No man, be he Red man or White man, can be apart. We are all brothers after all.”

Imitation is the highest form of flattery or so they say.  Over the years we have been very very flattered.  Lately we noticed that people have been trying to imitate the recipe of our delicious wings and they can be found as close as right around the corner.  But the copy is never as good as the original.  Portia made up the recipe for these wings while on a family holiday in Namibia – Jason tells the story below:

“We were two weeks out on a four week trip ’round Namibia when we discovered an idyllic camping spot at the source of the Tsauchab River. This is the source of all the water that flows into Sossusvlei between the giant red sand dunes. We set up camp in a valley over-looked by steep, rocky cliffs, shaded by Fever Trees. We had Guinea Fowl to wake us in the morning and the barking of baboons to send us to bed at night. Occasionally a startled Kudu would stand in the path as one rounded the corner; in a word, it was very remote.

On the the day after we set camp Portia discovered the chicken wings had defrosted completely and were about to go off. Supplies of fresh meat were hard to find and she new that Lumai, Leo and I would be looking forward to a braai that night. She had to do something urgently!

As usual Portia always travels with a good selection of spices and condiments. Out came the spices, soya sauce and honey. Into the bowl went  the wings and the mixture and that’s where they marinaded until evening.

The day was spent lolling in pools and exploring the fresh spring as the sun baked down. That night as the day cooled off we lit our fire and braai-ed the wings. Leo ate one wing and said to Portia; “This is good. Where’d you get the recipe?’ Her reply,’Out of my head,’ seemed to please him. He loaded his paper plate and worked his way through about ten more.

Portia’s Sticky Chicken Wings became an all-time favourite and she put them on the next menu in the restaurant.”