'I only eat white foods.'

There's a top, top, top restaurant just outside Johannesburg. It's on every must-visit list I've seen published or heard spoken about. And, obviously, I'm not going to name it here. So draw your own conclusions. But - I chat regularly to the manager. And this inside story came directly from him. Buon appetito.

A large group made a year-end booking three or four months in advance. They were extremely specific about where they wanted to sit, when they would arrive, how they expected to be received, the order in which their wines would be served and what sort of waitron/s should serve them (tall, pretty, female).

On the appointed day, they drove up. In a fleet of Bentleys. Amid flurries of glowing Birkin handbags, Vuitton scarves, Bulgari sunglasses and assorted Breitling watches, they took their seats. Ordered drinks.

So far, all good. Rich, fussy, loud. But - pleasant.

And then... Menu perusal began. With a terrifyingly gaunt hand, topped with extra-long coral nails, raised into the air, one of the ladies beckoned their (tall, pretty, female) waitron over. And announced, without a drop of irony, that she would only eat white foods.

Yes, white foods. Foods that are white. Seriously.

This has to be every restaurant's worst nightmare. Worse than vegetarians, pescatarians, vegans, followers of the raw food movement, and adherents to Weigh-Less or Weightwatchers. Worse than noisy children, randy couples, queasy moms-to-be.

Radical dieters.

Kudos to this anonymous restaurant, though. Because they crafted an all-white, six-course degustation menu for her. I can't tell you exactly what was on it, because that might be a leetle too much distinguishing info for my sources at the restaurant to feel comfortable with. But I will say that there were white mushrooms, litchis, jasmine rice and marshmallows.

Believe it or not.

People are deeply strange.