If it were to be brought from beyond your house walls, it would arrive cold and therefore it would no longer be the ideal vetkoek as god intended. So you'd have to get someone to make it in your kitchen and bring it to you. Like 'Vetkoek-in-your-own-kitchen-Uber-Eats' basically.
I think I’d rather go to someone else’s house, then, otherwise I’ll have the kitchen cleaning and washing up to contend with, which would spoil the effect. I’ve only had fresh vetkoek once in my life but I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed it until this post!
When you're eating it, that's all you can do: taste it. You can't engage with other people or have a conversation. You can only taste it. And interspersed with sips of hot coffee...well.
Now I desperately want someone to bring me freshly cooked vetkoek.
If it were to be brought from beyond your house walls, it would arrive cold and therefore it would no longer be the ideal vetkoek as god intended. So you'd have to get someone to make it in your kitchen and bring it to you. Like 'Vetkoek-in-your-own-kitchen-Uber-Eats' basically.
I think I’d rather go to someone else’s house, then, otherwise I’ll have the kitchen cleaning and washing up to contend with, which would spoil the effect. I’ve only had fresh vetkoek once in my life but I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed it until this post!
Yes, someone else needs to deal with the mess. I agree!
What wonderful instances of abundance.
I also like this poem.
I've never eaten vetkoek - the freshly cooked version sounds heavenly (with very strong tea, for me, rather than coffee!)
I hope I haven't over-sold vetkoek now 😄
My favourite Dennis Brutus poem. X
I can taste the vetkoek!
When you're eating it, that's all you can do: taste it. You can't engage with other people or have a conversation. You can only taste it. And interspersed with sips of hot coffee...well.