I was thinking of a piece of kingklip having the character and guts of a hunk of prime beef, not brooking any chirp from the hoi polloi, the kind of kingkip cutlet that walks into a room and everyone falls silent, waiting for the next move.

Rainbow trout, which the Edwardians introduced to South Africa from the northern Pacific about a century ago, is the most beautiful fish, pearly on the outside, sensuously slinky to the touch – it will fly out of your hands of its own accord while you’re washing it under cold running water – and, when you slice into it once it’s cooked, offers you beautifully saffron-tinged flesh that is wonderful to eat.

The Cape of Good Hope is a spicy place, Christmas food is traditionally all about fruit and spices, and this menu embraces all of that in a way that does justice to the traditions of our own ancient spice route.

This little breakthrough has turned sesame oil from also-ran status in my kitchen into a key ingredient. So now I’ve gone a step further. I’ve started using it as a mainstream cooking medium, in the same way as you would use butter or olive oil.

My friends over at Posh Galore haven’t featured in this column for a while, but I’m sure they would frown upon the thought of me dredging up a hasbeen old kitchen favourite again, on this dubious occasion the sadly lamented “Avocado Ritz”.

But perhaps the most unique fish of all when it comes to distinctive flavour is salmon. That extraordinary saffron colour is a thing of beauty in its own right, but find a good piece of Norwegian or Scottish salmon and you have one of the finest fishes you can put on a plate. There’s something of the richness and oomph of Beluga caviare about that intense blast of flavour, and yet it can, for all its taste intensity, take a surprisingly subtle sauce by way of accompaniment.

I had ordered perch from the dinner menu without a clue as to what it was like and I was astonished to be presented with a plate of what must have been 20 or so of the little critters, flour-dipped and panfried in butter and then served with parsley and lemon. Crisp, soft and wonderful, they remain one of the most memorable yet simple fish dishes I’ve tasted anywhere.

When you’re curing salmon for a man who makes witblits for fun, you know you have to chuck in something fairly potent. I’m not sure that curing the fish actually IN witblits, a liquor of a proof so high that it may or not be on either this or that side of the law to do so (I may or may not be hedging my bets here), is entirely a good idea (or not, as may or may not be the case). In any event, what we do know, unequivocally, is that it is not illegal to include tequila in a salmon cure, and I’ll drink to that. I think.

Is it its name that makes us think of kingklip as the king of South African fish? Is it like being called Elvis? Is it like being born Michael Jackson with feet that start shufflling to Billie Jean even as the baby’s head appears? You’re alive. You’re a kingklip. And you rule.

In the mid-20th century decades, when we were young and life stretched to a far horizon, sole was the fish ordered by women on dining room menus. Not solely (sorry). But mostly. We kids were encouraged to try it too. But I don’t remember any dads ordering sole. Especially Sole Bonne Femme. Which is not surprising really. “I’ll have the Sole Bonne Femme” doesn’t have quite the same masculine ring as “Old Man steak please, rare, just slap its bum and send it out”.