Please check back for any updates. We've managed to include a few features and fixes too. Thanks to everyone who helped test 0. Go to the Download Page to get it. Thanks to anyone who tested 0. As usual, the new version is on the Download Page. Thanks to all who tested 0. Please check back again for the next SA-MP update. Thanks to all the players and server owners who helped test this new version.
This release also includes some new features and improvements to SA-MP. Please check back again for more. As usual, the new update is available on the Download Page. Here is a short summary of some of the new features in SA-MP 0.
We hope you enjoy the new SA-MP version and please check back for any 0. It is recommended that all SA-MP players and server owners update. I could not believe it: the pot of samp in the fridge was gone. Around me, the world continued as if nothing had happened.
Outside, taxis hooted. Inside, the TV played. Mum and Gran carried on with their conversation. Perhaps it is somewhere else in the kitchen, I tried to reassure myself. Though it would be deployed for other uses during the week, we had a specific aluminium pot in which samp was cooked. It always needed to be washed until it was gleaming, twinkling. On many occasions, my gran made me rewash it until the marks were gone.
The pot was big enough for the samp to boil freely and big enough to feed our family of seven for dinner on Wednesday and leftovers on Thursday afternoon. I closed the fridge door and softly asked about the pot. It had been an unusually cold and rainy day in Durban. Instead, now, it was my anger and frustration steaming.
How could my sisters have eaten all the samp and left nothing for me? Not even the delicious crust at the bottom of the pot. Today, my family and I laugh at this memory. But the disappointment of that day taught me a lesson about the kind of time and love that goes into making this simple dish. Popular across Southern Africa, samp, isitambu in my native Zulu, or umngqusho in Xhosa, is one of my favourite meals.
Samp is the name of the complete dish but it also refers to one of the two base ingredients — dried, stamped corn kernels. Made with corn kernels and beans, samp is a moreish, comforting and filling dish.
While the rest of my family might have a curry or stew to accompany it, as a vegetarian, I am in culinary nirvana with a heap of steaming samp in my bowl. As it requires just a handful of affordable ingredients, it is a dish that is accessible to households of varying income levels.
It can be cooked on a stovetop or on an open fire. And it is so widely loved that it is a staple at community gatherings like weddings and funerals and special occasions such as Christmas or Easter.
In recent times, samp has taken on different iterations with mushrooms or carrots or peppers being added in. In some households, it is boiled with pieces of chicken or beef so that it becomes a delectable one-pot meal. Different tribes add in their regional flavours. In eSwatini, formerly known as Swaziland, for example, unsalted peanuts are added in to boil with the corn kernels and beans.
While growing up at home, my parents created a weekly menu to keep a handle on finances and culinary expectations. Mealtimes on Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays gave me immeasurable joy.
On Wednesdays I would savour samp, Fridays feast on fish and chips, and Sundays relish roast chicken. But Thursday afternoons were also special. We would have leftover samp, which often tasted even better that day.
On Wednesdays, my gran and cook-in-chief would have to orient her life around proximity to the stove. Requiring time and attention, samp calls on cooks to be devoted to the process. My gran would spend almost a day getting it ready. I was raised in a very loving family. My gran did not lavish me with gifts or material possessions; she lavished me with her time and attention. I saw this with stark clarity the day I did not get to eat her samp.
At age 19, I learned that love can be measured in time. Finding the pot empty that Thursday was devastating because I knew there was nothing that could replace it — nor what my gran had put into making it. All those Wednesdays that she made samp, tending to the pot for about six hours, my gran loved in time. She put aside certain tasks such as church meetings, grocery shopping or tending to her garden that would have taken her away from the kitchen for more than an hour or two.
Her love for me and dedication to my nourishment were evidenced by every bowl of her samp I had eaten. The hours my gran invested in feeding our family also held a lesson about spending time wisely.
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