The Spectacular Rebirth of Ganesh

“Hey Dan, pass me some of that — what is it called again? Gai tod.” Dan passes me a brightly-coloured plastic plate of impossibly crispy Thai fried chicken. We don’t say much else to each other. We can’t. Our mouths are (delightfully) full. 

We’re seated with some of our closest friends in the heart of Ganesh’s packed floor, surrounded by the steam and clatter of the open kitchen and a chorus of patron chatter. We had been a fairly garrulous party ourselves, buzzing boozily over quarts and cocktails, but a reverent hush fell over the table when we started eating — the kind of stunned silence that comes from experiencing extraordinarily explosive flavour for the first time. 

I imagine that Ryan McDonagh, Jade Konz, and Bryn Divey — the new owners of Ganesh — had a similar experience when they sat down together at a larb restaurant in an inconspicuous industrial park located in Chiang Mai. Following the success of their Wale Street ramen restaurant, Bodega, the trio of friends was enjoying a spontaneous work trip to Thailand. 

Faced with a menu written entirely in Thai, they tackled their order armed with Google Translate and the unique fearlessness of a tourist in a foreign land. Jade ordered the dancing shrimp with romantic notions of zestily seasoned crustaceans dancing poetically on her palate, but was presented with a ramekin of wriggling live freshwater shrimp instead. After an escape attempt from the shrimp and an urgent interjection from the waitress, it became clear that the shrimp were to be shaken in the ramekin with lime juice and chilli before eaten — live ceviche, if you will. Dinner and a show, if you’re creative.

The dancing shrimp was especially memorable, but the team enjoyed countless Thai dishes during their trip that inspired the menu at Ganesh. Recalling his first taste of naem, a fermented pork dish eaten with bites of raw garlic and green chilli, Chef Ryan reflects on the exciting novelty of dining on ingredients that you don’t recognise in a language that you don’t understand. “I was like, what is this called? I got my notes out and I was like, What’s this? What’s this? What’s that?” 

Nervous diners, fear not — live shrimp does not feature on the Ganesh menu. They cater to a taste for adventure in other ways. “Our perception of Thai food here is very different from what Thai people are actually cooking and eating,” says Ryan. Forget about green curry. The refreshed Ganesh menu features street-food-inspired dishes like phad krapao, khao soi, moo ping and som tam — then-unknown names that had me Googling feverishly at my table in an uncanny recreation of the scene in Chiang Mai. The menu is furnished with brief descriptions of each dish, but I strongly recommend ordering blind with a group of close friends — it’s the best way to do it. Just ask Ryan, Bryn, or Jade. 

Cyclical recreation is a running theme at Ganesh, which is situated in the same building that once housed Café Ganesh: an institution beloved by Observatory locals since 1995. After thirty years of operation and a fresh lick of paint, it reopened its doors as the newly reincarnated Ganesh — an auspiciously well-fitting name carefully selected by the new owners. 

“We had to remain as Ganesh,” says Ryan. “It wasn’t like we were just opening another thing or taking over the space. It was like, the soul and the heart of it has to stay.” Rather than gutting the building in favour of a Pinterest-polished interior, the Bodega veterans — Obs locals, themselves — breathed new life into a local haunt that they had whiled many an evening away in themselves. 

“The space and the energy you feel here are so special,” reflects Jade. “We used to drink here, and we kept saying, What kind of places do we want in our neighbourhood? What kind of community do we want around? Cafe Ganesh has got such a special community, and it gets back to reinvesting into where you live.” 

In an effort to keep the legendary premises rooted in community, Ganesh sources fresh produce and free-range eggs respectively from partnerships with local organic farmers, Those Who Harvest, and food activist, Dr. Luke Meterlekamp. Ganesh also recycles and diverts their food waste from the landfill through Gooi, an organic waste management operation. The restaurant often exhibits local artists and hosts community events, including weekly musical Sunday Sessions. These efforts culminate in a heartfelt homage to the legacy of Café Ganesh, a veritable centre of community in the bohemian streets of Observatory. 

“It always reminded me of travelling,” says Jade. “You could walk in and sit at any table and have interesting conversations with all kinds of people passing through. It felt culturally important, it felt mixed.” Even now, sitting in the section furthest from the entrance feels like you’re somewhere between a backpacker’s kitchen in the Eastern Cape and a Thai food market, furnished with kitschy plastic garlands and large communal tables laden with enamelware of varying provenance. Despite the welcome facelift, Ganesh has retained its legendary multicultural charm. Clearly, the spirit of Café Ganesh endures in rebirth. 

Back at my table, the gentle clinking of empty crockery is giving way to exclamations of genuine enjoyment. The fire is crackling, and the laughter is flowing thicker and faster than our exotically spiced drinks. It’s a well-worn ritual, the shared meal — one that arcs through time and space to recur in 1990s Café Ganesh, in 2020s Chiang Mai, and now, in the newly reborn Ganesh. 

Check out Sunday Sessions at Ganesh at 38 Trill Road, Observatory, or visit its sister restaurant, Bodega, at 64A Wale Street, Cape Town. Walk-ins welcome. Bookings can be made through Dineplan.