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  • Caitlin Emma Bowes

A RECIPE FOR AN UNFAMILIAR CULTURE OF CULINARY TALENT

Throughout my childhood I observed the makings of culinary excellence. Whether I was perched on a marble kitchen counter, peeping in from behind the back kitchen door, or tightly grasping the legs or arms of the chef, begging for a taster; I was fascinated by the art of cooking. What intrigued me more so, was the talent behind the culinary genius. The quickening pace of circular whisk movements, pushing and pulling of tender bread dough, the rhythm arising from chopping zucchinis in a continuous sequence, without a single pause; she never failed to bring a smile to my face and reassurance to my pallet.


Don’t get me wrong, my mum is a brilliant chef, unprofessionally speaking, but she happens not to be the central point of these memories. My observations of the culinary realm, I credit to Mavis and Synthia, the two domestic workers I grew to know up until the age of 10. I would often question myself, in my naivety and blissful ignorance as to why they hadn’t become world-renowned chefs. Fast forward 10 years later, whilst preparing a rushed student version of Synthia’s butter chicken curry, I thought about many of the other domestic workers and individuals within South Africa without the many resources and financial means that I have access to. I pondered the ways in which they could engage with their talent, willingness to learn, and incredible personalities to surpass the kitchen counter of southern suburban homes.


Photo credit: Unsplash


After doing some research, I came across a local non-profit organization based in the heart of Cape Town city center, named Infinity Culinary Training (ICT). ICT aims to provide individuals predominantly from South African regions and of a poor socio-economic status, with the culinary skills, theory and work experience needed to propel them into the working world. The focal idea is to secure a sustainable, stable future for each applicant accepted into the programme. This was just a small overview of the significantly larger picture I was yet to experience. I decided to get in contact with Barry Berman, co-founder and current executive director of ICT to scope out what goes on beyond the kitchen doors of this unassuming basement building on the corner of Adderley Street.


Upon entering, I was directed first to the kitchen, scanning the atmosphere that surrounded me, I was wonderfully overwhelmed. To my right, I observed students pulling and pushing bread dough to the beat of song and enthusiastic clapping. To my left, I watched as students exchanged pots, pans, spatulas, and looks of fierce concentration as they followed direction from the head chef. There was not a second that was wasted and not a student who lacked motive. I followed Barry as he continued through to the learning area where I was greeted by students sweating and laughing as they participated in the morning’s regular exercise routine. I praised them, as I couldn’t fashion myself jump squatting at 9 am on a winter's morning.


ICT I learned, has a history dating back to 2009. Having started as a small classroom with some rustled-up kitchen equipment in District 6, ICT with the help of its contributors and staff has started to slowly bridge a gap between the food industry and employment of talented individuals. As I chatted to the staff and students, I began to understand the importance of ICT as a concept. Individuals that apply to ICT range from different cultures, backgrounds, and ages. The compelling catch is that these applicants are interviewed and screened not based on their culinary experience but on their personal character and determination. ICT as Siphamandla, a student from the Eastern Cape emphasized, is not about the cooking but about the unique culture, the personal growth, and the bond that the students have with one another.

‘’In that classroom, there is no black, white or colored, no Xhosa or Sotho. We have written our own culture, and that’s how we learn… together.”


Photo credit: ICT website


Barry explained that each student completes a 6-month course, sponsored by ICTs’ contributors. Whilst the first phase is based at ICT, the second phase includes an internship and trial period at a selected hotel or restaurant. If successful, the student will graduate from ICT and begin their working career. Four ex graduates of ICT guide and teach the students throughout their first phase of the course, focusing on food theory, culinary practice, life skills and mentoring.


"Each student has a different story. The aspect of having someone who understands your background and emotional struggle is one of the most important parts of studying at ICT."


I recalled this phrase of Barry’s along with Siphamandla’s words, whilst I listened to the students gathered in the learning area, chat to each other about seizing opportunities. I thought about the man sitting closest to me and his taxi fare back to Langa that evening, about the woman in the far right of the room, and her children, who would be waiting for her at home, after school. As my eyes traced the presence of each student, I contemplated how lucky I was. How lucky I am.


During my last few minutes at the school, I relished in the vibrancy of the atmosphere that surrounded me. I laughed over the lyrics of exuberant African song with the life skills coach and inhaled the aroma of freshly made bread and a few spices I probably don’t know the names of.  I swapped stories of recipe failures and triumphs among the staff and listened to the perspectives of people I barely come into contact with in my day to day life.


Upon leaving the kitchen of ICT and snapping my final few shots of the students bustling away in the kitchen, the thought of Sylvia dashed through my mind. The reality is that she is among a vast population of South Africans who deserve the chance to change their lives. Organizations like ICT are a small start to a bigger picture - a larger transformation of the food industry in South Africa. This is not a plea for your money but a plea for your word of mouth. The chances are, if you can’t help uplift a life, there’s someone you know who can. If you ever happen to find yourself on the corner of Adderley amidst the metropolitan madness of Cape Town, do yourself a favor, and pay a visit. It’s one hell of a culinary adventure.


Photo credit: Unsplash


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