sweet smell of soetkoekies

One of my favourite outings as a child was visiting my Nans’ house for Sunday lunch. Nans and Gramps had a gorgeous big home that overlooked the river and a dining room that could accommodate our extended family. It wasn’t unusual to have at least sixteen people around the table and some spilling out of the door. Nans would be in the kitchen from 5am preparing the feast and still make it to a morning church service. Only in recent years, as I’ve dabbled a bit in cooking myself, have I truly appreciated the effort that went into preparing those extravagant meals for the multitudes.
When I knew that I was getting married, I asked Nans to please share a few of her renowned recipes. Most sought-after of these is the legendary ‘soetkoekie’ recipe. Rumour has it that an old lady, on her deathbed, told the recipe to my great-grandmother who then passed it to Nans who has shared it with a privileged few. On the day of my kitchen tea, Nans handed me a notebook in which she had lovingly jotted a number of her and my personal favourites. In the flurry of activities I skimmed the pages but in my excitement I failed to register that the soetkoekie recipe had, in fact, been omitted. When I later questioned Nans she replied that she was sure it was one of the first recipes she had included in my book. Subconsciously, I think she wanted to be the one who bakes the soetkoekies for me, carrying them through with my cup of tea on mornings when I stayed over at hers.
I’ve attempted a few of Nans’ specialities and while hers will probably always taste better, as soon as I smell or taste those dishes or treats I am transported back to Port Elizabeth, cosy in her living room or sitting around the dining table. I’ve also had to learn to tweak quantities slightly. While Fox and I both have healthy appetites, trying to make our way through milktart meant for twelve people or two dozen sweetcorn fritters just isn’t good for the waistline.
So, today, as I whip up a batch of tasty soetkoekies and the air is filled with the smell of sugar and coconut, I’ll send up a little thank you for the woman who is my inspiration in and out of the kitchen: my Nans.