s a little boy I had less of a sweet tooth than most kids. Milk tart and koeksisters were two exceptions that I adored, and my mother wisely would keep a strict eye on either should they end up in the fridge where they would be placed as high as possible to keep them out of my reach. As a four-year-old I called milk tart, “melk-te-perd” to the amusement of my much older sisters and parents. None of us ever got much pocket money, but we all received music tuition and our little house would be filled with the sounds of piano, organ, violin, and piano accordion. I was always thinking
