Attending a traditional South African braai should come with its own set of warnings. For starters, this garden grill-out — named after the actual grill called braai in the local Afrikaans — is not the place for vegetarians. Sure, you have salads and dainty cheese-tomato-onion grilled sandwiches called braai broodtjies . But this is one meat fest that seems to be invented for and by the callously carnivorous. Second, be prepared for bone-crunching bear hugs and pool dunks — even if you’re all dressed up.
So, feeling terribly overdressed, I sauntered into my first braai being hosted by my friends, the Cloete family, in honour of my first trip to their home in Port Elizabeth — a small but beautiful sea-side city that clings to the country’s Eastern Cape. When summer finally rears its head in the Southern Hemisphere around November, deliciously informal neighbourhood braai s start popping up like the Rainbow Nation’s national flowers, the gorgeous King Proteas.
As I was soon to learn, however informal and relaxed a braai might seem, it most certainly has its own code of conduct that must be followed religiously. As an ode to modern man’s hunter-gatherer past, and just like most other cultures, the grilling of meats on the barbeque is the domain of the man of the house; the women take care of the side dishes and desserts. While the other male guests might be tempted to tend to the grilling on the braai , they must do so only if and when invited by the ‘alpha male’, so to speak. Not that I had any intention of displaying my shortcomings by attempting to grill anything, I was far too happy riding the carnivorous carousel, with every turn a meat-fuelled food orgy, punctuated by bottles of ice-cold beer and brandy with cola.
From generously cut beef steaks basted with the fruity, local monkeygland sauce and hefty pork ribs to lamb chops and sausages, the braai was literally saturated with the aroma wafting out of the garden and onto the cul-de-sac drawing in other friends and even a few uninvited neighbours. Yes, in South Africa no one misses a good braai . Why should they?
Next to get acquainted with the grill were the lamb sosaties . Similar to kabab s or shashlik s, sosaties are cubes of meat — generally lamb — alternated by a dried apricot and a strip of bacon, all fastened onto tiny wooden skewers with a heady punch of curry powder and the sunset yellow of the turmeric in their marinade giving them a nice Indian touch.
Speaking of which, there seemed to be a definite Indian flavour leitmotif running through the braai . With a subtle suggestion of curry in its tomato-based sauce, the seashell-shaped conchiglie pasta salad did well to reference South Africa’s Indian connection as did the roasted coriander, black pepper, nutmeg and cloves spice blend in the coiled beef-lamb-pork boerewor s sausages, whose constant sizzle provided the soundtrack to the evening of meaty excess. These sausages originated from the traditional (and less spicy) Dutch verse worst sausages and are also a staple in other former Dutch settlements like Namibia and Botswana. A dried version of boerewor s called droëwor s are also popular South African snacks to munch on while watching football or cricket, but don’t find themselves a place at a braai , as I was informed by my ever-enthusiastic hosts.
A bevy of accompaniments like a mixed salad with feta cheese, a shredded carrot and beetroot salad, and a mayonnaise-redolent potato salad proved to be the perfect vegetarian foil. But the one side dish that had me make repeated visits to the buffet table was the mieliepap . A hearty, traditional African-porridge-meets-polenta-like dish made from coarse corn meal boiled in hot water with butter and salt, mieliepap provides the roughage to the braai spread and is served with a sweetish relish-like sauce made with tomato and onion, with bacon, cheese and corn kernels added to provide some additional texture to it. In other parts of Africa it is simply known as pap or phutu and is considered the main component of the meal, not unlike rice and roti s are to us Indians.
Perfectly moist with a gooey centre was the malva pudding that is another braai favourite had at the end of the grill-a-thon. A delicious relic of South Africa’s Cape Dutch lineage from the country’s Western Cape region, malva pudding is always drenched in either warm, unctuous vanilla custard or ice-cream on particularly torrid days as it was that evening. Another braai favourite, the cinnamon-spiked melktert or baked milk tart with its slightly wobbly countenance proved to be my undoing with five slices finishing off my evening of fun, food and friends — a trifecta South Africa never seems to run out of!
Lamb Sosaties
Ingredients
500 gm lamb cut into 1-inch cubes
250 gm dried apricots
250 gm bacon (1 strip for each skewer)
1 large onion, sliced into half-rounds
4 cups water
2 tbsp mild curry powder
½ tbsp turmeric powder
4 tbsp sugar
1tbsp corn flour
1 cup malt vinegar
½ cup apricot jam
½ tbsp lime juice (optional)
salt and white pepper to taste
Method
For the marinade/sauce, first slice the onion and bring it to a boil with the water. Set aside. * Combine the curry powder, turmeric powder, sugar, corn flour, and some salt and pepper, then add in the jam, vinegar, and lime juice. Pour this mixture into the pan with the onions, and bring to a boil for 3-4 minutes, until it starts to thicken. Set aside and allow it to cool.
Layer apricots, bacon, and the cubed meat in a plastic or glass container. Cover with the cooled marinate and set aside in the fridge for at least 24 hours before grilling.
To make the sosaties, skewer the lamb, apricots, and the bacon onto wooden skewers that have been soaked in water for an hour before use to prevent them from burning when grilled.
Grill the sosaties on a braai (a normal grill or tandoor will do) over medium heat for about 20 minutes or until they are cooked through, basting periodically with leftover sauce.
Serve hot with accompaniments like mieliepap, salad and any remaining sauce on the side.
