Rave Review is so thrilled to bring you the very first editorial of our fabulous new contributor. She’s a gorgeous gal, inside and out, she’s also a wife and mommy, which in our opinion makes her a superwoman. Plus, she’s one of the most recognized faces and voices in South Africa. Sam Cowen, author and co-host of 94.7’s Breakfast Express is writing to all of you about the things that make her tick, and the experiences that make her laugh. As only she can, Sam is one inspiring lady, and we at Rave can’t think of anyone better to make us giggle. The dreaded canapé is on the chopping block this month, read more to find out why.


The other night I went to a very posh function in Hyde Park. The only drinks available were champagne and soda water. As a teetotaler this was mildly disappointing but I comforted myself with extra ice and lemon in my soda water. I’ve always been a bit of a wild one.

It was fortunate that I did have access to the beverage of models (Shashi Naidoo calls it ‘crunchy water’ and she’s a very successful model so she should know) because the available food was inedible.  That’s not to say it was spoilt or old. It was very pretty and arranged most artistically. Canapes generally are. Indeed, not since an interior decorator walked off with three bond repayments to flounce my bedroom curtains on ornate curtain rods have I seen anything so elegant. However unlike my bedroom curtains, all the food arrived in little spoons.

The trouble with meals on little spoons is twofold. The first problem is the amount of food on the spoon. A tablespoon only holds fifteen millilitres. It works out to about a mouthful. And while that helping may be a veritable feast for a Smurf or a fairy, consisting, as some of these did of a sliver of steak, a miniature potato wedge and a pea, it is still only one of the possible ten to fifteen spoonsful that it takes to fill me up.


A Chinese soup spoon, which seems to be the spoon du jour, holds slightly more. It also has higher sides and a wider bowl. This makes eating out of it rather difficult. Do I put the bowl to my lips and nibble the prawn cocktail/mini meatball/feta square delicately? Or do I toss the lot down my throat like a shot of tequila? This involves opening your mouth very wide, as I would for the dentist. But that’s how I’m supposed to look at the dentist. I’m also lying down in a reclining chair during daylight hours. The same look doesn’t work as well at a swanky function where the heels are high and the store prices are higher. So what’s a girl to do? Do I vary the mode of consumption depending on the dish, the company or the number of spoons?

This brings me neatly to problem number two. How many spoons of food are acceptable? How many can one take before looking like a glutton or a spoon fetishist? One at a time leaves you hungry but more than that and people start wondering if you’re trying to make up a set to take home. And when you’ve finished with them, where do you leave them? I’ve taken more than one before. I once took five. I’ve tried hiding them under drinks napkins. I’ve tried dropping them on the floor and kicking them under those tall, wobbly tables, against which you should NEVER lean.  Once I even arranged them in an ashtray and pretended they arrived like that. So I watch the waiters carrying the spoon platters around with barely concealed anxiety. Canape spoons are like Romany Creams. You can never stop at just one.

Until next time,