Fish, Family and Fellowship

My host, who doubled as my foodie hero this weekend, goes by many names. Mama, Auntie C, but more commonly Ouma, stands as the matriarch of her big, loud and loving family that has summarily adopted me as one of their own.

Carrying both Namibian and Portuguese heritage, with added sprinklings of South African as well as other traits by association, Ouma’s family is nothing short of smile and laugh-inducing, albeit dramatic at any point in time they gather.

I had the pleasure of being invited to Sunday lunch, and, of course, the foodie in me was not about to reject such an offer, especially considering what was on the menu. I do not think I would’ve succeeded much, even if I had tried.

No, when it comes to food, ‘no’ is not usually a definitive response that is acknowledged in this particular household. If it is offered, you eat it, because it will be offered seven more times. Nine out of 10 times you will enjoy it anyway.

Being welcomed into someone’s home for a meal is a very personal thing that I feel most of us tend to take for granted in this day and age. Access to one’s personal space, family and environment is a reflection of both love and trust, and I strongly feel we need to start doing it more often.

You see, Sunday lunch in many households stands as the postcard meal of the week, where everyone can gather, even those that do not necessarily stay in that household, for a time to commune, catch up and dine, before the craziness of the week ahead.

The African ‘seven colours’ concept is as much alive in many homes on a Sunday as it is prevalent at weddings and funerals.

My hosts’ objective was two-fold when they hosted me: touch base and reconnect as we had not seen each other in a long time, as well as introduce me to a Portuguese-Namibian dish they have been enjoying for years.

On the menu? Sardines.

No, I am not talking about those tiny little pesky fish that come in a random red tin can laden with a ‘tomato sauce’ of sorts and that leaves you feeling all sorts. I’m talking sardines the size of your hand, prepared well in the oven, and consumed by a shoal of humans.

The source of this great bounty? Sea Source in Windhoek.

I know on this platform I always maintain I do not consume fish inland, because we have a coast and that is what it is for, but Sea Source has managed to perfect what most have failed: constant supply of great quality fresh and saltwater fish that has you thinking you are dockside at Walvis Bay or Lüderitz.

Curious as ever, I asked how the fish are prepared, how they are consumed and a million other questions.

Ouma, with a warm heart and a never-fading smile, narrates how through the years, she and her now late husband and children would enjoy sardines, while others tried dodging them because of their fishiness.

Plain coarse salt applied to the gills of the fish is the secret, and because they are a very oily fish, you throw them in the oven and let the heat do the work. Surely, I thought to myself, it can’t be that simple, but in actual fact, it is.

Lay them out on an ovenproof roasting tray and grill until the skin starts to pull away from the flesh, or signs of crispy goodness appear.

Everyone but me, accustomed to the consumption, kept reiterating how it is an acquired taste, to which I agree, but I maintained how you should not trash it till you try it.

I was walked through how to properly debone the fish and eat it. I enjoyed it with a boiled potato smothered in olive oil and a chickpea salad.

Tray after tray graced the table, and I, being one of the newbies, was sanctioned to consume as much as possible. I ate six, and was proud of myself as I earned the praises of ‘my big, loud, loving Namibian-Portuguese family’.

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