Linni Eats Cape Town: Africa Cafe

People are constantly asking why I came to Africa to study abroad, instead of the usuals, like Europe or Asia. My answer, aside from a chronic predilection to counterculture, mostly has to do with food.

Italian food, Mexican food, Spanish food, Chinese food, Indian food—there are myriad cultures I could name before we ran out of stock visual imagery or taste memories. But what appears in your mind when I bring up African food? Most people, myself included prior to this trip, would draw a blank. I can't speak for everyone, but I didn't like leaving an entire continent unaccounted for in my quest to eat the world. So I began this journey, not really sure what to expect outside the general categories of meat and starch. How did tribal southern Africans make use of their resources to satisfy cravings? What kind of evolutions had colonialism forced upon these methods?

In the U.S., it's standard to have low-end, no-name versions of a particular cuisine in addition to the nicer establishments. You can count on finding a non-descript Mexican joint on shady street corners, and there's certainly no shortage of cheap hot dog hole-in-the-walls. So I expected Africa to have some of these, serving up whatever the locals eat. I've been here five months now, and I've yet to see anything that satisfies this description.

The times I've been served anything with the tag of African food, it has come in a touristy package, usually served buffet-style at a high-end locale marketed for its entertainment value as a dining experience, rather than a simple connection to the culture's food. I've felt more in touch with the soul of South African palates at the under-staffed and under-frequented Cape Malay joints, the stores with halaal plastered on the door where the man behind the counter is studying a recipe book for new ideas.

My trip to Moyo may have fallen under the glamorized, slightly impersonal category, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. In my ranking of these types of establishments, next in line is the Africa Cafe. More expensive than Moyo and located in the heart of downtown Cape Town, this yellow stucco building is bubbling over with kitsch and folk art, chandeliers made of empty bottles and beads clanking overhead as you climb the stairs to any of the country-themed dining rooms. I am not sure which country I was seated in, but the Winter 2008 menu was painted on the side of a ceramic pitcher and the colors threatened to overwhelm. Luckily, I have come to positively associate this over-saturation of hues with this charming continent and it did not bother me. I could see how some might find it jarring, though.

The costumed waitresses started us off with Xhosa pot bread, steamed and both crunchy and moist. We also received some things to dip our bread into, such as Moroccan zeilook made with eggplants, coriander seeds, and garlic and Ethiopian iab, a white curd cheese with herbs that was like a soupy cottage blend. Next came various finger food, which I imagine would be served at Super Bowl gatherings if this culture was somehow married with my own. Zambian bean pies were fried and had a little too much pastry and not enough bean; Malawi mbatata cheese and sweet potato balls rolled in sesame seeds were less than memorable, but the Xhosa imifino spinach patties and Egyptian ta amiya white bean patties with coriander and parsley were kind of addictive, especially when dipped in the zeilook and iab.

Other sides included Congolese spinach and Egyptian koshery, made with noodles, rice, lentils, and tomato gravy. But the meat-crazed locals joining me for this experience were passing on these dishes, anxious for the meat courses still to come. Finally, our table received a lamb stew called mwanawa nkhosa, which, like much of the meat I have been served here, was more bone and fat than anything else. The Ghanaian groundnut chicken was delicious, though, even if it did taste like something on a Thai menu, and the Cape Malay coconut mussel curry may have changed my mind about those slimy little creatures. I hate mussels, so that speaks volumes about Africa Cafe's simple marinade.

Dessert was a confusing and disappointing brownie sundae, and I was left with mixed feelings about this place. The wait staff, despite their charming getup, seemed too crazed by the clock to make any impression on the environment. The decorations are representative of the region to

an extent, but a little over the top. While the food did lead me to excited exclamations at certain times, it was simply mediocre at others. In terms of African dining experiences, I'd say it is worth the drive to Stellenbosch to choose Moyo instead.