Tag Archives: cooking

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

Breakfast Epiphany

Often in my young life a bowl of dry crumbly uphuthu would arrive ready to eat, absolutely delicious with milk and sugar which I’d add all by my own self. Yum. Then the bowl would disappear never to be seen again until it was back sparkling clean on another day, filled with phuthu. Like magic. Made by Selina, mostly, who might also make egg, toast and bacon on a flat plate. I was pleasantly spoilt and didn’t know how things worked. Just that they did.

Recently we bought a 1kg packet of Nyala mealie meal from Mtunzini Spar and I’ve been successfully making iphalishi, slap pap, soft maize meal porridge to rave reviews from Jessie. Today I thought How Hard Can It Be? I’m going to make phuthu. Oh boy.

I make my phalishi in a glass bowl in the microwave but for some reason I think phuthu has to be made in a stainless steel pot with steel handles on a gas hob. Ouch, bliksem those handles get hot. So add the meal to the water that burnt me, add more meal, steam up the spectacles, stir occasionally, whoa! a lump has flown overboard and plopped down between the stove and the cupboard. Now I have to grovel and stretch in the tight space to get it out with my bum in the air cos I told Jess we mustn’t leave any crumbs for ants or cockroaches or mice. We found some mouse poo when we moved in and I was telling her that’s what brings certain snakes – the smell of rodents. Sometimes I should just shurrup.

To stir occasionally I have to hold the lid with a double-folded dishcloth and also the pot handle with the same hand while I’m stirring with the other hand so it doesn’t slide around. What’s that smell and why is Jessie laughing? Oh, the dishcloth got into the flame and is burning quite nicely. Damn.

Check the recipe on the Nyala pack: Stir occasionally, cook for 35 to 45 minutes. 35 to 45 minutes! Are they mad? I don’t do anything for 35mins non-stop. On average I do 35 unproductive things in 35 minutes.

Eventually its done and it tastes quite nice although its stickier, not dry and crumbly as I remember it and like it best. Once we open doors and windows the burning smell fades but the pot looks terrible, black and crusty, sending Jess off into uncontrolled giggling.

After breakfast Barbara phones and puts Mom on the line. She listens amused then says, Put water in the pot and heat it till the black crust loosens up.

OK, but no more phuthu. Forget it. That’s my breakfast ePiphany. Tomorrow Jess will make egg and toast if she can stop laughing like Audrey Hepburn.

~~oo0oo~~

Rave reviews from Jessie: I freely admit she is generous with her praise and in fact is very disapproving of Gordon Ramsay’s foul-mouthed rants describing food as shit and worse. She says even though at times it’s difficult, you can always find something kind to say about Dad’s cooking.

~~oo0oo~~

How To Cook

(I might write a book)

Open your wine; make sure its enough; check the label; must be a good wine, not a great wine, but a good wine – 13% minimum; 14% is obviously better.

Always cook with red wine, taking care not to spill any on the food.

Peel and cut a potato into four; Peel and cut an onion into four; Rotate them in a microwave.

Cut a pork chop into small cubes. Be guided by your superstitions here, use another animal or tofu or soya or kale if you have to, but for best results, stick to what I say: Cut a pork chop into small cubes.

Cubes into a pan with yesterdays pan fat; fry till browning.

Add salt. Gulp some wine.

Add potato and onion and brown. Brown the stuffin the pan, nê.

Add some cloves of garlic, peeled and chopped.

Add salt.

Put a lid on it. I often say that when people are gaan’ing aan like this: Put a lid on it. Another favourite saying when my gast is flabbered: Dis my gat se deksel.

Chop up some spinach and green beans. The spinach I bought off the back of a bakkie downtown. R10 a bunch, dark green, delicious, did wonders for me – whatever dark green leaf vegetables are meant to do for you? It did it for me. Mainly, leaves me (geddit? leaves me . . ) with lots, cos the kids turn up they noses.

Did I mention this is a recipe for one bachelor whose kids would rather die of hunger than eat this stuff?

Steadily add wine and I find it helps to imagine your favourite TV chef while cookin’.

So imagine your favourite chef . . . No, its Nigella.

Which reminds me of the inimitable Barks who every holiday would cackle Haw Haw Haw Haw! After asking the question (again) and providing the answer:
Where is Friderichs going these holidays, hey, hey? He’s going to Nigel. Haw Haw Haw Haw!

So Naai-Gella Awesome it is.

Keep lifting the lid and then at the right time toss in the chopped up spinach and green beans, never forgetting to keep steadily adding wine. Careful not to slosh any onto the food.

Add salt and a big knob of butter for the last round. Put a lid on it. The right amount of salt is the amount that makes it taste best. Did I mention this is health food? It is. Mental health.

Then eat it accompanied by sufficient more red wine. I actually licked the plate.

The 1812 overture was belting out in the background with real cannons. I hope they scared the neighbour’s incessantly-barking mongrels.

~~~oo0oo~~~

gaan’ing aan – blah blah; fit a cork; put a lid on it

dis my gat se deksel – literally, that’s my arsehole’s lid; blow me down

bakkie – small pickup truck

  • disclaimer: Written after consuming the aforementioned wine.

~~~oo0oo~~~

Other domestic chores included cutting down a big Australian Bottlebrush tree – or one of its trunks, at least.

https://videopress.com/v/FdMfaqfO?resizeToParent=true&cover=true&preloadContent=metadata

. . and putting its flowers in one of Aitch’s old vases as a requiem:

– who is A Kirk? – she / he made the vase –

~~~oo0oo~~~

Jess Cooks a Curry

Petrea said to Jess, Cook a curry for your Dad. Jess said, ‘I’ve never done that before.’ Don’ worry, says Petrea and delivers a box. Leaves it at the gate.

All you have to buy is chicken, Jess. On the day, Jess marches into my office, ‘Dad! There’s no recipe!’ Petrea says read the back of the spices, Jess. Oh.

It was delicious! Tom specially came in and gave his sis a big hug and kiss and said ‘Jess! Best curry ever!’

~~~oo0oo~~~

My Vegetarians

2013/12/27 Meals: We usually have a vegetarian meal a week. If I have my way its phutu, mfino and speckled beans. Wonderful stuff. The kids love it, but feel obliged to rev me throughout “WHAT!? No meat!? Are we too poor, Dad? This is dodge, Dad! Kinda homeless, Dad!”

Ja Ja! Eat up, I say.

Little shits.

This xmas I picked Tobias’ cabbage and spinach fresh from the garden, boiled it with onions, then drained and added olive oil and simmered with garlic, salt and barbecue spices. Big knobs of butter when served.

They gobbled it up after the usual wrinkle-nosed high-pitched HMMMM!? Tom reserves for anything “dodge”. Sometimes I’ll add potato for a sort-of bubble n squeak.

I have to add the occasional green just in case Aitch does peek down from the clouds. Wouldn’t want to get into trouble . . .

~~oo0oo~~

puthu – dry mealie meal (maize or corn) porridge;

mfino – isiZulu for spinach or other dark green leaves; in the Free State growing up we called it meroho, seSotho for ‘vegetable’;

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”

Carnivorous Salad Dodger

21 Dec 2014: Dad! The supper last night was the BEST! says my off-ritalin TomTom breathlessly. The Xmas ham was SO good, and the steak was great, and the roast chicken was tasty, Dad!! I had some of everything except salad, he says proudly. My salad-dodger hates it when his appetite is suppressed by the muti. The meal was Michelle & Craig’s slap-up pre-Xmas supper to which we’d been invited.

The next day Tom bought two hams, one roast chicken, bacon and a huge matured rump steak. I made sure only the bacon and steak were raw. Tomorrow is Xmas and we are going to be cavemen! Oh, he also got some Haagen Das ice cream . .

Xmas 2014 Jess selfie

Xmas day:

I picked Tobias’ cabbage and spinach fresh from the garden, boiled it with onions, then drained and added olive oil and simmered and braised with garlic, salt and barbecue spices. Served with big knobs of butter. They gobbled it up after the usual wrinkle-nosed high-pitched HMMMM!? Tom reserves for anything “dodge”. I had to add a green just in case Aitch does peek down from the clouds. Wouldn’t want to get into trouble . . .

~~~oo0oo~~~

Actually, we have one vegetarian meal a week. If I have my way its putu, mfino & speckled beans. Wonderful stuff. The kids love it, but feel obliged to rev me throughout: “WHAT!? No meat!!? Are we too poor, Dad? This is dodge, Dad! Kinda homeless, Dad! etc etc .” Little shits.

~~~oo0oo~~~

Urgent phone call at work

I’ve left the kids alone at home, so when an urgent call comes I take it.
It’s Tom.
Dad! We need to get a lamb roast and rosemary and garlic and small-cut vegetables to roast. It’s a slow roast and we don’t have any rice or lamb stock in the pantry!
OK Tom, we’ll do that.
He’s been watching a cooking show on the box.

Image

Janet Humphrey wrote:
I Love it !
Question is – did he do it?
.

Oh, yes. The girls (Jess plus 2 visitors Sat night) had fish n chips take-away and Tom made a lamb shank each for the boys (me and him). Delish. I had the last of mine (and Jon & Dizzi had a piece) last night.

He did clean forget to roast the veges, mind you!

————————————————————-

My Pasta Chef

Dragging the juicer out of the pantry, TomTom looked at me.

And now?

I want to mix some pasta dough, Dad.

That’s the juicer, boy, here’s the Kenwood chef.

OK

Mixes the stuff, whips it up, then kneads it by hand;

Next thing he has a pasta machine clamped to the kitchen table. It has never been used before. Or not that I have seen, anyway! Rolls out the dough, puts it through the machine to cut tagliatelli or penne strips.

Tom pasta1

I need to dry these out now, Dad, where can I put them?

On the granite, fella, and we’ll cover them with a dry cloth.

All gleaned by his own self from the “Techniques” chapter in one of Aitch’s books “Pasta & Pizza Presto”. He’s going to cook it for lunch after school tomorrow, he informs me. I’ll taste it, fella.

He did, I did, It was delicious!