I was asked some time back: If life had taken you a different route, what would you rather be. I am one of those people who make light of most situations, so my flippant answer was that I would have loved to have been the widow of a very wealthy man. Which of course I am not, seeing Colin is neither deceased nor wealthy. So, on a serious note, what would I be if I were not me?

I always feel that I fell into what I do. It was never a conscious choice, but rather a sequence of events. Had I my life over, I think I would have enjoyed anthropology. I recall attending a Johnny Clegg show – now he studied Social Anthropology, and how he used his academic knowledge to interpret the music he was making. It was such an enlightening moment. Imagine that, combining your mind and your passion. Which, I suppose, in a way I do…. but anthropology sounds so much better than hospitality. Sadly, however, hospitality is like acting, you can never leave it. Come to think of it, nor would I want to.

Somehow, food reflects on the ethical, political, social, artistic, identity fibers of the society you find yourself in. Food speaks into hunger, pleasure, taste and, sadly, recipes. You all know how I feel about recipes. Not that I mind having and using them. It is the expectation that I have a repertoire of them to share. No, I do not have recipes. I like to create food. There is a difference. Sometimes I create something really good, and sad thing is, no, I do not have a recipe for it. Like so many things in my life, it just happened.

George Bernard Shaw said that there is no sincerer love than the love of food. Shakespear gave us: If music be the food of love, play on. I like Etta James, though. She said: the two things you cannot fake are good food and good music. Our youngest son believes that you should always eat dessert first, you never know when you may go down with food poisoning, being his reason.

Another ice breaking topic is also, if you were an animal, which would it be? For me, it is not so much what animal I would like to be, but rather which animal. So, what will it be? I want to be an animal in our family. Our youngest son sent a message the other weekend: Oreo (that little scrap of attitude the size of a coconut, with boundless energy) has had his worst day ever! Not only did he get bathed, but he also had his teeth brushed. Every photo we get of Truffle (the one who is always eager to please and who loves her humans unconditionally), has her wearing a different doggy outfit. Domino is spoilt rotten and gets away with anything with that sweet little pink nose of his. He knows how to play the sympathy card. Having only three legs does not stop him from creating mischief. But let him get into trouble and he hobbles along, quite the victim! We often get asked: how does he manage to jump onto heights? The answer is: it depends on who is watching.

But getting back to food and hospitality. I doubt any other career would have put me in a better position to do what I like best: meeting people. Perhaps I am confusing the scientific study of people, with my real passion: knowing people. What better than a conversation with a stranger. Or a homey chat with an old friend. What better treasure than to spend time with a person, that when you leave their company, you feel a better version of yourself? Besides, I have always known that I do not actually work with food, I work with people. Nice people, and not so nice people, but always, interesting people.

So, here is the challenge. If you could choose to be one ingredient in a recipe, what would it be?

Would it be salt, essential for enhancing flavour? Salt is even used in cakes, remember! Or would it be yeast, to rise to any occasion? Perhaps sugar? What is a treat without sugar? Or perhaps the tipsy part of a well matured fruit cake? Hmmm, there is an idea. The chocolate on an éclair, the cream in a queen cake, the nut in a brittle? Meringue on lemon curd?

I wonder, did the writer of El Condor Pasa perhaps contemplate this dilemma as well, when he said: I’d rather be a forest than a street, yes, I would, if I could, I surely would.

Oh, the options are endless. Having contemplated this, I think I will be the garnish. That little carrot or parsley on the side. Admired by all, but seldom eaten. Yes. I think I will be a garnish. That little bit that you think has no use, until it is not there.

I will be parsley. If I could, I surely would.