How Hard Can It Be?

Dad, I can’t think what to have for our third supper camping. Don’ wurrie Jess, I’ll do the first night, you just do two suppers. What’ll you do Dad? she asked, maybe regretting opening her mouth. Don’ wurrie Jess, I have a plan.

Her query had reminded me that our cottage came with three stainless steel braais, two built-in, and three braai grids, and two huge bags of charcoal – not your garage forecourt size – and eight plastic-wrapped bags of braaihout.
I packed the grid, a bag of braaihout, fahlahter, safety matches, and two T-bones. I was going to become a brauer. How hard could it be?

At Bonamanzi there’s a built-in brick braaiplek, no grid. I go scouting the sixteen sites, only two occupied, and find a grid, collecting twigs as I go. At dusk I set the well-packed pyramid-shaped pyre alight and stand back watching the blaze with satisfaction, marveling at how easy this is and how okes gaan aan about their secret and foolproof ‘methods,’ etc and blah blah.
When I have glowing hardehout coals – and admittedly still a bit of flame, I’m hungry so I sandwich the Spar-marinaded vacuum-packed very thinly-sliced bargain T-bones into my nifty snap-shut stainless steel braai grid that came wif the cottage, and plop them on top of the camp grid over the red hot coals. With a bit of flame.

I’m attending them noukeurig when the other camper drives in in the dark and I make the mistake of shouting across my coals, How was your drive? Turns out he thinks he should tell me.

He bustles over and tells me. I didn’t catch his name but if it isn’t Earnest it should be. Great detail about how their drive was not good, no elephant. Then where he’s from and what his 4X4 is and which one he actually wanted to buy (Nissan Pathfinder / Nissan Patrol) and how – exactly how – he built his own camper trailer on his parents farm and what he kitted it out with with his own hands and how although the trailer was old, the wheel bearings were still shiny silver when he took them apart. Also the pros and cons of a gazebo.

I’m shuffling and he’s getting into his stride and I’m polite. A fatal combination, which brings Jess with a torch to say, Dad you’ve burnt the meat!

~~oo0oo~~

braai – barbecue

braaihout – barbecue

braaiplek – barbecue

brauer– barbecue deskundige

deskundige – expert, but only in pyromania

noukeurig – barbecue with focus

gaan aan – barbecue talk

~~oo0oo~~

The campsites here are lovely

Nice winter birdlist in three days:

Yellowthroat Petronia, Purple-banded Sunbird, Emerald spotted wood Dove, Red eyed Dove, Egyptian Goose, Spurwing Goose, Great white Egret, Cattle Egret, Grey Heron, Reed Cormorant, Anhinga/Darter, Greater Honeyguide, Stonechat, Rufous-naped Lark, Orange-breasted Bushshrike, Gorgeous Bushshrike, S Boubou, Chinspot Batis, Puffback, Golden-tailed Woodpecker, S Banded Snake Eagle, Fiery-necked Nightjar, Wood Owl, Fish Eagle, Yellow-breasted Apalis, Crested Guineafowl, Spectacled Weaver, Darkbacked Weaver, Green Woodhoopoe, Yellowthroated Longclaw, Eastern Nicator, Camaroptera, Yellow-bellied Greenbul, Bulbul, Fiscal Shrike, Brown-hooded Kingfisher, Striped Kingfisher, Crowned Lapwing, Spotted Thick-knee, Ashy Flycatcher, Dusky Flycatcher, African Goshawk, S Black Tit, Fork-tailed Drongo, S Black Flycatcher, Black-crowned Tchagra, Pied Crow, Lipstick (don’t call me common) Waxbill, Crested Barbet, Yellow-rumped Tinker, Pied Wagtail, Cape Glossy Starling, Red-breasted Swallow, White Helmet-shrike, Burchell’s Coucal, Crested Francolin, Crowned Hornbill, Hadeda, African Jacana, 59

Meeting our Waterloo

TomTom and Ziggy and Mbono had a housewarming braai at their new home in Waterloo, north of Durbs. Jess and I were there along with Mbono’s parents, Ziggy’s Mom, sisters, brothers, nieces and star of the show: Melokuhle, Ziggy and Mbono’s baby, my grandson. Their little 2-bedroom house with its own garden is so much nicer than their last place, a flat in a high-rise building downtown.

One niece buzzed around taking lots of pics and videos, so I’ll post some of those when I get them. Meantime, I took too few:

Ziggy organised a lovely meal under the watchful eyes of her Mom and Mom-in-law – daunting, that! Luckily my Zig is a qualified chef! The young men – Mbono and two brothers did the braai for her. Tom had marinaded the meat overnight in his special sauce.

Suddenly it was decided there were too few bowls for dessert! Mbono, his older bra and Tom hopped into his Dad’s car and roared off to Spar; Later, another crisis: Older brother’s new girlfriend wanted sparkling water! Mbono, his older bra and Tom hopped into his Dad’s car and roared off to Spar. I remember those days. Any excuse to drive Dad’s car!

After lunch the large punch bowl was just about empty and the party was getting started! I thought I’d leave the dancing to the younger crowd. So Jess and I left early to get home to Mtwalume, about 100km south, before dark. We dropped off Ziggy’s Mom and a cousin along the way.

~~oo0oo~~

  • Waterloo
    Promise to love you for ever more
    Waterloo
    Couldn’t escape if I wanted to
    Waterloo
    Knowing my fate is to be with you
    Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
    Waterloo
    Finally facing my Waterloo

Mtwalume Cottage

A quiet time in the cottage. Except when Tommy joined me for a few days! Then there was action, fires, big meals and a much fuller bin bag for the rubbish truck on Wednesday.

~~oo0oo~~

Birthdays!

11 December. Jess is 23 and Tom is 19

Lellos and Lodders spoil them with gifts, lucky buggers. I told them Hey, after thirteen you don’t get any. They just gave me withering looks.

Tom cooked Petrea’s gift – a ‘tomahawk.’ Jess was away, so she dipped out. We waited for her, but she didn’t pitch.

We each ate a huge chunk, had some for breakfast and there’s still a bit left. Delish!

~~~oo0oo~~~

Mtamvuna River

Tom went fishing with Ryan – his first trip out of the house for ages! Ryan’s Dad Andy took them to The Old Pont on the Mtamvuna River, two hours south of home.

I joined them for a lovely braai – chuck, wors and garlic bread. Tom and Ryan braai’d the meat to perfection, but burnt the bread! Grrr!!

Overhead flocks of starlings and a flock of 22 Trumpeter Hornbills flew in the strong South-Westerly wind.

The next day they went to the Indian Ocean coast at nearby Port Edward and Ryan sent pics of Tom on the rocks; and videos of dolphins in the breakers and a whale tail-sailing just behind backline.

It was a great break for the boys. Tom came back revitalised.

~~~oo0oo~~~

Yay! Fathers Day

Breakfast at Badgers in Helen Joseph Road with Jess and two of her mates. A large greasy soulfood brekker on a windy Durban morning.

They gave me a present, too. The bill.

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Meanwhile, Tom and a mate had gone off to have a haircut in downtown. On their return they offered me their Fathers Day pressie: A large braai with them doing everything including the buying. All I had to do was pay.

I saw them get a bonfire blazing and some time later this evening a plate was marched in, loaded with beef short ribs and boerewors with a token vegetable teetering on the edge: a chicken wing, braai’d golden brown.

I shoulda taken a pic but I only remembered halfway through. Delicious! Washed down with Cardboardeaux – a 2018 vintage.

Jess also made a card:

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~~~oo0oo~~~

Don’t Forget the Meat

On the way to Ithala we stopped at a Boxer store in Dundee to buy supplies. I deliberately didn’t go to the Woolworths or a shopping centre as the boys had been talking about dodgy places. As I stopped Josh and Tom said, “This place is dodge.”

Grabbing a trolley, I sent them off to buy the braai. “Buy charcoal, lighters, matches and meat,” I said. Then I thought “Better write that down”, so I tore my list in half and wrote down those four things for them:
Charcoal
Firelighter
Matches
Meat

We put all our goods in one trolley. I glanced at the meat they had bought while paying and stifled a grin: We were not going to be short of protein!
I paid, left the shop and loaded all the stuff we had bought into our trusty Ford Ranger bakkie.

“Oh! We forgot the charcoal”, they said.

“And the lighter and matches?” I asked.
Forgot that too.

In their minds they HAD remembered four things:
Meat, Meat, Meat and Meat.
They did the braai both nights and did a great job of it. While they were at it they spotted a Thicktailed Bushbaby (or nagapie) and a Large-spotted Genet in the headlamp light.

A lovely spot, Ithala Game Reserve.

~~oo0oo~~

Thutty Yizz! (that's '30yrs' to you)

Aitch never held my culinary skills in high regard. Her favourite meal to mock was my chicken-onion-n-potato-in-a-pot special which she described as pale and tasteless. It wasn’t. It just looked bland. With a touch of salt and black pepper and enough red wine taken internally it was fine. Admittedly, I hadn’t yet discovered stock cubes.

She was right about my braaiing skills, though. Luckily Tom’s genes skipped back about seven generations to when burning dead animals on a naked flame was considered an advance in civilisation, not like I believe it to be: a pointless exercise now that Eskom has been invented. So he is now my braaiing stunt double.

Tom braais

To show that I’m an early adopter and no Luddite, I’ll have everyone know that when Aitch met me back in ’85 there was already an AEG microwave ensconced in my bachelor flat, faithfully re-heating coffee, poaching eggs and heating up the half hamburgers I would find on my chest after a good night out.

Which same microwave gave up the ghost this week. That’s correct. My AEG microwave, bought on 26 March 1984 fizzled on me on the 26th of March 2014. How’s that for hi-fidelity?

And just to show I really will avoid playing the primitive pyromaniac if I can help it, here’s a picture of me pulling my shirt to hide that same microwave behind me at Kosi Bay, Zululand ca 2002. I snuck it into the kombi knowing their campsites had Eskom power and knowing that heating up Tommy’s bottles was a fiddle without it. So I took gas and I took firewood and I took Lion matches, but I used AEG electric microwave technology powered-by-Eskom’s coal burning to feed TomTom.

microwave in Kosi Bay 2002
– see the electric light burning by day to prove Eskom was a 24hr service back then –

Update: Now I’m pissed off it packed up after only 30 years:

NEWS STORY: 93-yr-old woman is pissed off her oven packed up after only 53 years!

In 1963 John F Kennedy was president of the US, the Beatles had released their first album, and Winifred Hughes of Crewe, then a mere 39yrs old, paid £79 for an ultra-modern Belling Classic electric oven. It turned out to be an amazing bargain. Winifred,­ now 92, has used it almost every day since, and she says, “it never let me down”. Sadly, just last week, the thermostat finally gave up, and Winifred says she is “heartbroken” her beloved Belling is no more.

53-yr-old stove

~~oo0oo~~

Peter Brauer wrote:

“…which she described as pale and tasteless. It wasn’t. It just looked bland. With enough red wine taken internally it was fine.”

Wasn’t she talking about you??

~~oo0oo~~

Terry Brauer wrote:

You truly are the nuttiest oke I know. For a greenie this is like true confessions. Nuking your food. Go Tommy! You inherited your mother’s skills . .

~~oo0oo~~

Faithful Apprentice

I am not known for braai’ing. Anything but. I avoid it if I can.

If God had wanted men to ‘barbecue’ he would not have invented ovens. Or some such excuse.

I am quite good at watching okes braai.

But living in primitive country it’s inevitable that I have to set fire to something every now and then and cook something on it. Tom does it for me now, and does it well, but I remember the first time he assisted me. When it came time to present the offerings he stood up for me:

He said: “The meat’s not burnt, it’s just the way we cooked it”