After a harrowing evening at a beerfest and a whole day of paintball for Flip last week Saturday, neither of us felt like practicing our debuts on Come Dine with Me or Masterchef and decided to head out in search of a proper Sunday lunch, or a carvery.
I suggested a place close to home, but after much resistance from Flip, who dubbed the place a feeding pit, we grabbed the Google machine. "I don't feel like looking like a pig a trough," he said.
I typed in 'Sunday Lunch JHB' and after about five seconds we decided on a place in the CBD of Johannebsurg. "We're going to get raped of hijacked here today," Flip said on the drive, but I reassured him that we would be safe at Arts on Main.
After finding parking and making our way through an eternal maze of little arty shops, we found the holy grail, The Canteen. Good vibes, good food, good service. But I did feel a little overwhelmed by the smells and the music.
The restaurant is situated in a quad, where you would find a mix of Joburg's finest. There was the I-wear-wayfarers-and-cigar pants-people, the families you would find in health care ads, an old lady who dresses like a hipster and a whole lot of people who love their neutrals.
We sat in the shade of the waiflike olive trees and listened to music from four different corners. We could smell our own food, but at the same time our smelling senses got smacked by the incense from the Ethiopian "coffee shop" a few metres away. I use shop lightly, as it was actually a bunch of crates with pillows on top.
Lunch was followed by another trip through the "hoi-polloi flee market" (Flip's words), where we found upside down herb gardens, beautiful clothing, chilli chocolate and a not-so-nice t shirt.
My first time wasn't prolific, but isn't that what Sundays are about?