Just a glimpse

When I was a kid, I used to love staying home from school. Not for all the usual reasons, but of because the different sounds (vacuum cleaner rather than TV) and the way the sun slanted into a new position (on the floor instead of on my bed, where it had pooled by the time I came home from school) - it all made my boringly familiar house feel like somewhere new and exciting. Almost like I had climbed the Magic Far Away Tree and, instead of finding the land I was expecting, stumbled across somewhere more interesting. Of course, what made it all the more intriguing was that nothing was really different - it was like looking at twins, with the same features just shifted ever so slightly to the left.

Sometimes, when I escape from my laptop, I get the same feeling. Here's the world that I'm part of in the afternoon, but somehow it all looks different in the morning. It's quieter, stiller - like a stage waiting for the actors.

I recently headed into Modderfontein to do some research for a story, and that feeling was stronger than ever before. I discovered this village a couple of months ago when I wrote about Oakes, a female-owned craft brewery, and I was instantly enchanted. I've had a thing about villagey places ever since my student years at Grahamstown, so Modderfontein, with its green tin roofs, pine trees and lakes, made me feel like I'd found my niche.

I also found the perfect coffice. Oakes Coffee Roastery is owned by the same women who own the brewery. It's tiny, with space for just a few tables, although there are a couple more on the pavement outside, where you get a soul-soothing view of the lake.

It's also cosy and quirky without trying too hard - it just has an easy, comfy atmosphere that lets you settle in and get on with things.

As a coffee roastery, it's not surprising the coffee is absolutely delicious. The food, to be honest, is just so-so. I had a tramezzini filled with bolognaise and cheese, which sounds completely wintery and comforting and tasty, but turned out to be rather ordinary. And strangely chewy.

My verdict: if an unmemorable lunch is the only thing wrong with this place, I'll take it.

The work files:
The people: It's not especially busy, but I actually liked the fact that there wasn't a crowd. It suited the gentle pace of the village.
Wi-Fi: Yes
Coffee: Moreish
The vibe: The perfect place to get absorbed in what you're doing (it is quite a trek out though if you're based in Sandton).

Oakes Coffee Roastery
Queen Street, Modderfontein
011 608 0612
 hello@oakesbrewhouse.co.za
 

Aching for Argentina

When I was 17, my father announced that he was taking us to Argentina and Uruguay for a family holiday. A heartily spoilt brat, I was devastated - it was my first time overseas, and in my imaginings, 'overseas' meant walking along the Champs Elysees, not hanging out in a South American timeshare unit. Plus, who wants to be watching tango in Recoleto when you could be puking on the beach with a whole lot of other drunk high school kids?

In my defence, there were parts of the trip that turned out to be pretty awful. Some of it was amazing - like the aforementioned tango-watching, visiting Eva Peron's mausoleum, and being rescued by strapping young man called Alejandro when the Spanish-speaking horse I was trotting on ignored my pleas not to go into the sea (horse-riding on the beach suddenly made organised timeshare activities rather attractive.)

The bulk of the holiday, though, was spent in a place called Carillo. Carillo had all the glamour, pizzazz and bustle of a South Coast town out of season. It comprised the timeshare resort (empty, apparently, except for us and the pool man - more about him later), and to get to the nearest sign of civilisation (a strip mall, where all the shops, besides the grocer, were closed), we had to take a 15-minute taxi drive.

It didn't help that it rained non-stop. Not soft beach drizzle, but inhospitable, grey, stay-inside rain. My sister and I spent all our time playing our own version of backgammon, painting our nails (a manicure a day does not keep the boredom away) and watching the pool man, whom we named Well Hung (as I said, we spent a lot of time watching him). The day I actually got to exchange words with Well Hung was the highlight of the holiday: helping us carry our luggage to the taxi on the happy day we left the resort, he turned to me and said "morrrrr bug?" Words I have carried forever in my heart.

Adding to our misery was the food. My sister left Argentina weighing about 47kg. How we got it so wrong in a country renowned for asado and chimchurri I have no idea. Perhaps it was the language barrier - on one memorable occasion, encouraged by my mother's enthusiastic gushing about the beautiful yellow cheese she had found at the supermarket, I sunk my teeth into a large tranche - only to discover that 'manteca' means butter, not cheese. The saving grace was the discovery of dulce de leche; tubs of thick, creamy caramel we used to scoop out with crisp chocolate biscuits.

In spite of my Argentinian misadventures, I have been dying to try Linden's Bakery of Buenos Aires for ages. Any place that boasts being the home of Johannesburg's best croissant is definitely a must in my book - hence my decision to make it the coffice of the week.

Did it meet expectations? Sadly, as much as I really, really wanted to love it, not quite. It took a while to get service, and when I was finally given a menu, the breakfast options were decidedly uninspiring - mostly combinations of eggs, mushrooms and bacon with a mysterious 'garnish'. So I settled on the Special Sandwich: fillet steak, tomato, cheese and 'Argentinian sauce'. The roll was springy and soft, and the sauce had a pleasing pickled flavour - but the cheese had a processed look to it and, mixed with lettuce and tomato, it reminded me of sad school sandwiches.

After an age, I realised no one was going to offer me pastries, so I made my way to the counter, where I seem to have annoyed the waitress first by asking what was on offer and then ordering a pear tart. It must be said, though, that when the tart came, it was almost enough to redeem the experience: the pastry was flaky and buttery, the pear soft and sticky (that quote from City of Angels, where Meg Ryan tries to describe a pear to Nicholas Cage, came to mind: like sweet sand that dissolves in your mouth.)

Was it coffice material? I don't think so. The mixed crowd included a lot of children, including a little boy intent on making car noises right next to me - a huge distraction when you're trying to meet a deadline. Also, I know this is primarily a bakery so décor comes second, but the cement floors combined with furnishings that may hail from the 70s, plus all that pastry, made for a lot of brown.

Rating:
Crowd: A motley crew - a couple of school kids, some families, some people bent over their laptops
Coffee: Good
Food - Excellent pastries. The food was tasty - but probably not sufficiently enticing to make me return for a meal.
Wi-Fi: Yes
Verdict: I would absolutely come here to satisfy my sweet tooth - great for takeaway teatime treats, as a coffice - not so much.

Arbour Day

I have been dying to try out Arbour ever since I walked past it last week...and today was my day. I have a small confession to make, though: although the point of this blog is to find the ultimate coffice, today I went sans laptop. So no work for me - instead, I had lunch with my mom. A stolen pleasure at the best of times, since our get togethers usually centre of Leya and trying to stop her from pulling the flowers off my mother's plants (I have tried to tell my mother that this may be the start of a successful horticultural career if we can just harness Leya's habits, but she's having none of it). Today, we had the added delight of sneaking off during work hours.

It's probably a good thing I wasn't intending to meet any deadlines, since the first thing that hit me was the chatter. There was only one table available - the rest were taken up by middle-aged women who, judging by the volume and volubility of their conversations, haven't seen each other for a while. Probably not a great place to come for some quiet working time, then...but if you're looking for an awesome place to have a girl's catch up, this would be it.

As befits a place named for trees, the décor is cool and green and botanical.

The food was amazing. Arbour specialises in crepes, but these are a far cry from the rubber pancake offerings one usually sees on menus - so, when I ordered a filling of creamy wild mushrooms and gruyere, it was as far from the usual Denny whites with pasty béchamel as Rihanna is from Janis Joplin. The crepe (or galette, to be precise, since it was savoury) was thinly wrapped around a filling that was chunky and thick, and filled every corner of my mouth with flavour. My mother, meanwhile, had a duck and cherry galette - again, it was as comforting as a hug from someone you love, with a contrast of sweet and savoury that played on my tongue. For a moment we became grunting savages, incapable of any conversation besides "mmm, grrrmmmmm, grrmmmmmm, grmmmmm, ummmm," we were so concentrated on our pancakes.

You'd have thought one gigantic, rich dish would be enough for me, but one thing I have always admired about myself is my ability to push on - so I had a salted caramel pancake with apples and ginger ice cream. To be honest, I couldn't taste the caramel, and apples leave me cold, but the ice cream was amazing; a completely unusual and unexpected taste that left a tantalising prickle at the back of your throat.

My verdict: Maybe not the best place for serious work, but really worth it for outstanding food and pretty surroundings - choose it for your next girls' brunch.

Work files:
The people: None of the usual cofficing creative here; it's all ladies who lunch with set hair.
Wi-fi: Embarrassingly, I forgot to ask!
The coffee: Excellent.
The vibe: More of a place to talk about how the kids are doing than for setting out the proposal that's going to turn you into a millionaire.

64 St Andrews Road, Cnr Wrenrose Ave
011 788 4111