“Sometimes the deepest romantic bonds occur when we least expect them to.” That’s what my stars foretold that morning as I read the updates on Facebook while sipping the coffee I made myself that morning.
Yeah right, my allergy to love and romance was acting up again. The emotional pollen content of my love life was like a field of wild flowers on a spring day. Why can’t those pharmaceutical companies bring out an anti-histamine for love, I thought. Am I forever doomed to have the equivalent of a blocked nose when it comes to a successful relationship?
It was a cold, wet and windy morning in Cape Town and the capetonian drivers would be causing their usual chaos on the roads leading into the city. Fortunately I would be travelling against the traffic that day. Moving my workplace outside the city was probably the best decision I made this year. That and not cancelling my June holiday that he who shall not be mentioned wanted me to do.
I was meeting a girlfriend for a drink later that evening and I was looking forward to seeing her. We hadn’t seen each other for a few months due to her work commitments and her love life that was possibly in an even bigger mess than my own. We would share a bottle or two of wine together and whine about our lives for a few hours and leave with a sense of peace, knowing that the other’s life was shittier than our own. We planned to meet at a new restaurant that opened a few months ago that was fast becoming the trendy hangout of the models/students and media types who had studios and offices in the Kloof Street area. A glossy magazine had recently done an article on the place and it helped establish Seven Sins Restaurant as the place to be seen.
My cab dropped me a block away from the restaurant which was already overflowing with the after work crowd seeking refuge from the Cape winter wind and rain in the opulent décor celebrating the end of another week selling advertising or wrapping a photo-shoot.
A song from Florence and The Machine was playing as I entered. The table I reserved earlier in the day was at the back of the smoking section, under the hand painted devil mural at the fireplace. From there I would be able to admire the beautiful people of Cape Town in the comfort of a soft white leather chair and have a good view of the DJ who had positioned himself at the other end of the room.
God he was beautiful. Arms adorned with tattoos of ancient tribal designs, light brown curly hair artfully waxed to create the just-out-of-bed look. The three-day-old stubble hiding his boyish good looks. He could’ve been a model. No wait; he probably was one too, I thought. He was bouncing his head to the rhythm of the music while he fiddled with the sound controls. How could I get to exchange a few words with him I wondered as the waiter came over to get my drinks order? “A double Jameson with ice please.”
Jameson on ice is my usual while-I-am-waiting drink. She was running late again, “My boss is chewing my ass to meet the deadline daaaaaarling, so I’ll be a little late. Is that okay sweety?” was the voicemail message that I listened to while I was in the cab. There was always some or other crisis at the film production company where she worked as a writer-researcher-assistant-model-actress. “I’m a hyphenate.” She would always say when anyone asked her what she did for a living at one of the cocktail or dinner parties she’d drag me to as her plus one.
I just ordered my second while-I-am-waiting drink and I was starting to feel the effects of the smooth golden liquid on my empty stomach. She was almost an hour late and I was starting to feeling like Julius Malema at a MENSA meeting. How was I supposed to feel that my life was not such a shithole if she didn’t get her sweet ass here so that I could hear the sad tales of her loves and life?
Just then my mobile vibrated alerting me to a received text message. It was from her letting me know that she was still at work and asking me if we could meet the following week. Great, I thought. Actually it was something to the effect of, ‘Fuck! You skinny old cow. Could you not have let me know sooner?! Here I am feeling like a foreskin at a Briss, with a hot dj across the room who I really wanted you to help he chat up.’ I got up and went to the toilet to take a leak.
The men’s toilet only had one urinal that was occupied so I went into the cubicle and closed the door. I could hear the telltale sniffing of a coke-nose from the guy at the urinal. Dumb idiot, don’t you know coke is so nineties, the cool people don’t use drugs anymore, I thought to myself. I waited in the cubicle until I heard him leave before I washed my hands and returned to my table to finish my drink and head on home.
A shot of tequila was waiting for me as I got to my table. Sitting opposite was the dj, “Hi, I saw you come in earlier. Do you like the music?” he said as I sat down. “Uh, yes. It’s pretty good. Who’s the tequila for?” I asked. “For you. I need to get hammered tonight. Don’t you just hate breaking up in winter? It’s so depressing, fuck.” Was his reply. “Did she dump you or you her?” I asked as I downed the shot of satan’s piss. “I dumped HIM. The fucker can’t keep his prick in his pants for more than two minutes. Every time he wants to fuck some other guy, he picks a fight with me. The last time was at Woolies. He made such a scene outside I thought I’d have to call security. He said I don’t watch his back, but I knew he had friends coming down from Jozzie for some party and he wanted to be a free agent while they were here. He didn’t even invite me to come with them. I’m not an idiot. I told him to go fuck himself. It’s not the first time either.” He said and downed his shot.
He’s GAY? I would never have guessed, not with all those bimbettes hanging all over him.
My stomach was starting to burn from the tequila and lack of food. “Have you eaten? I’m starving and if we’re gonna get plastered we do need to line our stomachs. Do you want to order something here?” I asked while trying to get the waiter’s attention. He replied; “Their food is really good here, especially the burgers. I could eat them every day but I’m going to gym again and I need to look really hot for summer. I want him to see what he lost when he sees me at Sandy’s in December. God, how he’ll regret fucking with someone who was so into him. Should we go to my place instead? I know it’s a bit forward, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off you since you sat down. Anyway, I finished the gig and need to get out of here. I live just up the road and I’d rather make you that chicken dish I wanted to prepare for him.” With that, I paid my bill and followed him out staring mesmerizingly at his bubble butt as he swaggered confidently ahead of me.
He made me chicken, chilli and lime cakes with noodles, and it was terrific. The combination of garlic, ginger, lemongrass and chilli with coriander made a fabulous flavouring to the chicken cakes. That guy will definitely regret not hanging onto the dj.
Maybe the stars were right after all? I didn’t expect to meet anyone that night, least of all him. Being stood up by my girlfriend turned out to be a blessing in disguise.
When I eventually got home the following evening, after making plans to meet him the next week, I went online and found the recipe for you guys to try out.
Let me know what you think.
THAI CHICKEN CHILLI & LIME CAKES
Ingredients
For the cakes
- 4 chicken fillets
- 2 bird's-eye red chillies, chopped
- 1 tsp peeled and finely grated ginger
- 1 tsp finely chopped lemongrass
- 2 spring onions, finely chopped
- 15g coriander, including stalks, chopped
- 1 lime, zest of half and juice
- 2 tbsp vegetable oil
- salt and freshly ground black pepper
For the sauce
- 55g caster sugar
- 55ml water
- ½ tsp crushed dried chilli flakes
Preparation method
1. In a medium bowl mix together the galangal, lemongrass, spring onion, coriander, lime zest and juice. Season.
2. In a food processor blend together the chicken and chilli.
3. Add the ginger mixture to the chicken and blend again until just combined.
4. Carefully remove the mixture from the processor, divide into eight potions and shape each portion into a cake.
5. In a small saucepan mix together the sugar, water and chillies, then place over a low heat and cook until a syrup forms.
6. Heat the oil in a medium frying pan.
7. Fry the cakes in the oil for 2-3 minutes each side or until cooked through and golden.
8. Serve the cakes with the dipping sauce in a separate dish to the side.
The recipe looks wonderful. Will certainly try it out. I also love those unexpected romantic occurrences. Had one quite recently.
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