This is such an interesting article. I’m a white South African, based in London, and often nostalgic for “home”. I avoid the Savanna shops unless I’m desperate for an Ouma rusk, precisely because of the carefully curated vision of “authentic” South African foods. To me, it’s always seemed to be more about the nostalgia for certain brands — Mrs Balls, Simba, Iwisa — rather than flavours. Indeed, I’ve found some stuff there that’s stale or even out of date (rather poignantly, given this analysis!). Much to think about in this piece, thank you.
PS: if you’d like to share your recipe for dombolo, I’d love to see it adapted for a UK kitchen!
Thank you for reminding us about the culture of exile and how what one can get is curated in ways that not everyone would notice. I lived in Mbabane and rarely had Swazi food. I had my first taste of goat there, bought canned pilchards in the local shops but was never invited to a Swazi home to try their home cooking. My boss, a Swazi, gave me rooisbos tea and biscuits imported from England when I visited her home. I hope that you get to share some of these glimpses of home with other Swazi compatriots and make them a little less about apartheid. BTW, I often get chicken feet at Chinese groceries and dim sum parlors albeit seasoned very differently from what you are used to.
I forgot to say that I lived in Swaziland now Eswatini from 1969-71, just after its independence from the UK. The white expatriate community was still fairly dominant and it was considered quite unusual for a young white woman to work for a Swazi business.
This is such an interesting article. I’m a white South African, based in London, and often nostalgic for “home”. I avoid the Savanna shops unless I’m desperate for an Ouma rusk, precisely because of the carefully curated vision of “authentic” South African foods. To me, it’s always seemed to be more about the nostalgia for certain brands — Mrs Balls, Simba, Iwisa — rather than flavours. Indeed, I’ve found some stuff there that’s stale or even out of date (rather poignantly, given this analysis!). Much to think about in this piece, thank you.
PS: if you’d like to share your recipe for dombolo, I’d love to see it adapted for a UK kitchen!
Thank you for reminding us about the culture of exile and how what one can get is curated in ways that not everyone would notice. I lived in Mbabane and rarely had Swazi food. I had my first taste of goat there, bought canned pilchards in the local shops but was never invited to a Swazi home to try their home cooking. My boss, a Swazi, gave me rooisbos tea and biscuits imported from England when I visited her home. I hope that you get to share some of these glimpses of home with other Swazi compatriots and make them a little less about apartheid. BTW, I often get chicken feet at Chinese groceries and dim sum parlors albeit seasoned very differently from what you are used to.
I forgot to say that I lived in Swaziland now Eswatini from 1969-71, just after its independence from the UK. The white expatriate community was still fairly dominant and it was considered quite unusual for a young white woman to work for a Swazi business.