SA Rocks

Fact: South Africans love puddings.

And no, I don’t mean the weird English concept of puddings which can include savouries like Yorkshire pudding. I mean sponge-cakey puddings baked in the oven and usually served warm with some sort of sauce or syrup.

There’s nothing glamorous or sexy about them, and they don’t require any sort of expensive or exotic ingredients. Mostly, they originated in farm kitchens where the lady of the house had to whip up a pudding from what she had on hand – flour, eggs, butter, sugar and maybe a jam of some sort. Those redoubtable housewives had a pudding for every occasion, as I discovered in my copy of the Oranje Kook-, Koek- en Resepteboek of 1918, written by the mysterious “Mrs D.J.H.”.

Let’s see… we have ertappelpoeding (potato pudding), armmanspoeding (poor mans’ pudding – a steamed suet pudding with raisins), damespoeding (ladies pudding with currants, jam and brandy), goedkoop en lekker poeding (cheap and tasty pudding – perfect for the credit crunch, perhaps?), jongmanspoeding (young men’s pudding with candied peel and sultanas), oujongnooi poeding (old maids’ pudding), telefoonpoeding (telephone pudding with ginger and apricot jam), skrikkeljaarpoeding (leap year pudding) and vogelnespoeding (birds nest pudding – no birds nests involved though!).

There is also a cluster of puddings which are so similar that some sources describe them as being one and the same pudding. These are malvapoeding (literally mallow pudding), bruinpoeding (brown pudding) and Jan Ellis poeding. All consist of some combination of flour, sugar, eggs, milk, apricot jam and some sort of raising agent, and after the pudding is baked a syrup is poured over it. However, after combing various sources it appears to me that there are some small distinguishing features. Malva pudding contains vinegar whereas Jan Ellis pudding apparently does not. Brown pudding has a syrup that does not contain cream, whereas both malva and Jan Ellis pudding have a creamy syrup. Small differences, I know, but I’m a stickler for detail So I am taking the view that Jan Ellis pudding is a discrete entity, but is part of a close-knit pudding family.

Jan Ellis was a well-known Springbok rugby player in the 1960s and 70s, and held the record for most-capped Springbok player of all time when he retired (38 caps). Legend has it that this was his favourite pudding and to this day it bears his name. I have to say that the man had good taste. The pudding itself is a fairly dry, cake-like affair that baked to a nice almost crispy crust. Still, I was a little dubious about the texture… until I poured generous amounts of the creamy, caramelly syrup over it. Oh my. It’s rib-sticking, warming comfort food at its very best and the pudding just soaks up the syrup like a sponge – even my desert-avoiding husband liked it!

I have to confess, though, that I could not leave well alone. I figured that the traditional recipe (I used one from Pieter-Jasie) as it stood needed a little something to take the edge off all that unadulterated sweetness, and for some reason nutmeg sprang to mind. I also happened to have a tablespoon or so of grated orange zest left over from another recipe, so into the syrup that went. The end result was wonderful enough to make me wonder why I had spent so many years faffing about with creme brulees, mousses and crepes – this is pudding as pudding is meant to be. And I’m immensely proud to claim this piece of pudding heritage as my own

JAN ELLIS PUDDING (serves 2-3)

Ingredients:

3/4 cup of self-raising flour
1 egg
1 Tbsp apricot jam
1/4 cup milk
1/4 cup sugar
1/2 tsp baking soda
1 Tbsp softened butter
a pinch of salt
a pinch of ground nutmeg
1 tsp grated orange zest

FOR THE SYRUP:
1/2 cup boiling water
1/2 cup cream
1/2 tsp vanilla essence
1/2 cup butter
1/2 cup sugar
1 Tbsp grated orange zest

Method:

Dissolve the baking soda in the milk. Mix all the other ingredients together well, then add the milk and mix well until smooth. Pour into a baking dish and bake for 30-40 minutes at 180C or until a skewer comes out clean.

Plase all the ingredients for the syrup in a small saucepan and bring to the boil over medium heat. Serve each portion of pudding with a generous helping of syrup and some custard.

Popularity: 10% [?]

Out of approximately 33 000 participating our very own South African food blogger, Cooksister sneaks in at number 46 on TimesOnline’s list of top 50 Food blogs around the world.

I think this is a sterling achievement and to be honest it seems as though Jeanne just can’t put a foot wrong with her little gem of a blog.

Last year it won various SA Blog Awards and is a shoe-in to do the same this year amongst many, many other awards.

I am extremely lucky and proud to have her as a regular blogger right here on SA Rocks!

Please head over to her Author page to read more of her blog posts on this blog and head over to Cooksister, the website, to show your support and gain some valuable cooking knowledge.

Popularity: 12% [?]

Street food – it’s such a great concept. Something cheap and readily available, sold on the streets in a portable format, and eaten by the average local. Think Leberkaese rolls in Austria; grilled corn on the cob in Morocco; falafel or shawarma throughout the Middle East; frites with mayonnaise in Belgium; poutine in Canada; tacos in Mexico; chilli dogs and corn dogs in the USA; and arepas in Venezuela.

In South Africa, we have the usual collection of generic international street food like hamburgers, fried chicken, or fish and chips, but here and there you will find some truly South African food being sold on the streets, like Durban’s home-grown favourite: bunny chows.

There is some discussion as to the origin of this steet food which broadly consists of curry ladled into a scooped-out loaf of bread. One theory is that it originated at a restaurant in Durban’s Grey Street when, in the early 1900s, caddies from the Royal Durban Golf Club were unable to get enough time off over lunch to dash to predominantly Indian Grey Street to pick up a curry for lunch. The caddies would ask their friends to bring back curries for them and because there were no polystyrene containers back then, the shopkeepers sent the curry in holowed out loaves of bread. There was also no disposable cutlery, so the bread was useful as a tool to dip into the curry and use instead of a fork. This theory might also explain the rather unusual name: the shopkeepers on Grey Street were called banias (an Indian caste of merchants), and “bunny” could be a corruption of this. Another similar theory is that bunny chows originated as a means for the (mostly Indian) labourers to take lunch onto the sugar cane plantations of Kwa-Zulu Natal in the days before disposable containers.

The curry used in a bunny chow varies according to taste – chicken, lamb, beef or vegetable are all popular, and the level of heat varies (beware – Durbanites like theirs HOT!). The bread component of a bunny chow may be a whole, half or quarter white loaf, and the scooped out centre (known as the virgin) is replaced on top of the curry before serving. The virgin is then dipped into the gravy before and eaten as an appetiser, and it is considered very bad form indeed to take somebody’s virgin without asking . As the level of the curry drops, you can rip off bits of the bread bowl to use instead of cutlery – so all in all it’s a fun but potentially messy meal and not suitable for first dates or important business lunches!

Bunny chow terminology is a minefield for the uninitiated. When suggesting to friends that you should go and get bunny chows for a meal, using the word “chow” marks you out as a clueless foreigner – the correct term would be “let’s go get some bunnies for lunch”. And when ordering, you shouldn’t even use the word bunny – you merely order a whole, half or a quarter, depending on the portion of bread you want, and specify the type of filling you want (e.g. a half beef, or a whole chicken). And be very careful if you have a funny bunny – this is a bunny made from the centre of the loaf rather than the end and, as such, has no crust at the base. Make sure you support the base, otherwise your friends will quickly let you know where the “funny” part of the name came from

The recipe below is a great basic lamb curry and could also be served on rice. If you are making bunny chows though, be sure there is enough liquid for plenty of gravy: you want the gravy to soak properly into the bread “bowl”. I was lucky enough that my lovely friend Simla brought back a packet of Osmans Taj Mahal roasted Durban madras curry powder for me last time she went home, which I use in my curry – but you could use any ready-mixed curry powder that you like and which is available where you live. You can also add chopped chillies at the end to spice up individual portions if some diners like it hotter than others. And as always, if you have time try to make the curry a day in advance because the flavours always improve on the second day.

So what are you waiting for? Try these for yourself and experience the authentic taste of South African street food!

BUNNY CHOW (serves 4)

Ingredients:

1 kg lamb, cubed
1 medium onion, sliced thinly into rings
2 large tomatoes or 1x400g tin chopped tomatoes
2 Tbsp vegetable oil
2-3 curry leaves
1 stick cinnamon
4 green cardamom pods, lightly crushed
1.5 tsp crushed ginger
1.5 tsp crushed garlic
4 tsp Durban masala (or substitute shop-bought curry powder,as hot or mild as you like)
1 tsp ground turmeric
2 tsp garam masala
3-4 potatoes, cubed
Salt
1 or 2 (depending on the size) crusty, square loaves of bread
Fresh coriander leaves to garnish

Method:

Cube the meat and slice the onion; peel and dice the tomato.

Heat the oil and add the cinnamon stick, cardamom pods, onion and curry leaves. Fry until the onion is light golden brown in colour.

Add the masala mix (or curry powder), turmeric, ginger, garlic and tomato. Cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until the mix resembles a puree.

Add the meat and cook for about 10 minutes. Then add the poatoes and about 1/4 cup of water. Lower the heat and simmer over low heat until the meat is tender and the potatoes cooked. Keep an eye on it to make sure the bottom of the pot does not burn.

When the meat is cooked through and the potatoes are tender (about 30 minutes), add the garam masala mixture. Test for seasoning and add salt if necessary. Simmer for a further 10 minutes on a low heat.

In the meantime, take a fresh loaf of white bread – it needs to be crusty on the outside with a nice, soft crumb. Little farmouse loaves half the size of standard loaves are ideal. Halve the loaf and scoop out the soft white crumb, leaving the crust to form a “bowl”.

Spoon the curry into the half loaf and serve, garnished with coriander leaves. The soft crumb can be dipped into the curry and eaten as well.

Popularity: 12% [?]

What a fresh idea. A bakeoff. I love it. Going back to the days when I was 7 and had to get my mom to bake me something to take to class to sell and raise money. Old school, new rules as the saying goes.

The event is called the World Wide Bloggers Bake Off and here’s the lowdown:

It seems to me that the event is held by Breadline Africa. That’s the first thing.

The next thing is the intention:

Join the many bloggers, everyday internet users and other concerned people around the world who have made a pledge to help end hunger in Africa by signing up to participate in the Breadline Africa Worldwide Blogger Bake Off.

How it all works:

Quite simply; bake bread, give dough. You can sign up for the campaign, make a donation, upload your bread recipes and document your culinary adventures in the media centre to spread the word. Bloggers can go even further by downloading our widget and tagging five other bloggers to do the same.

Every donation goes towards our $1 million target, and the honour of having a container kitchen in Africa named after you is the first prize, along with an Amazon voucher of $500. The winners with the most votes for each recipe category will receive $250 in Amazon vouchers each.

It really appears to be a simple and fun way to actually make a difference. None of this signing of petitions or ranting. Simply donate, bake off, submit a recipe or visit the site and spread the love.

The Widget

I have placed the Widget in my sidebar to the right as you can see. Click on the donations button there and donate in the name of SA Rocks. What better way to try and help your fellow Africans?

If you are a blogger and want to get involved here’s why you should use the widget:

The Worldwide Blogger Bake Off widget is more than just a decorative badge for your website or blog. It is specially designed to function as a gateway for bloggers and fundraisers, referring traffic through to the Worldwide Blogger Bake Off site.

The sleek and sexy widget displays how much you and your friends have managed to generate for the alleviation of poverty in Africa, as well as the overall donation total.

Lastly and most importantly, the widget acts as a billboard for the campaign; spreading the wholesome Breadline Africa message far and wide. Wear it with pride.

So let’s do it. Oh, and thanks to Rob Stokes from Quirk for alerting me to the event.

Popularity: 5% [?]

I must apologise for my neglect and the lack of Cooksister post last week, dear readers. But allow me to explain and I hope you will forgive me.

As the rest of South Africa was settling down to watch the opening match of the Rugby World Cup, half a world away I was receiving a text message from one of my oldest friends in Joburg to say that her brother Peter, my first love back when I was a teenager, was in hospital for tests. He had a swollen lymph node in his neck and had been diagnosed as anaemic so they had done a biopsy on the lymph node and a lumbar puncture. I texted him immediately and he said not to worry – it was probably an infection of his lymphatic system. But when they had not allowed him to go home from the hospital almost a week later I did begin to worry. On 14 September Alison let me know that the test results were back – cancer. By 16 September Peter was allowed home for the night and I could finally call him and talk privately. He sounded so weak and unlike himself as he told me that he had Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma and that he was unlucky on two counts: the cancer had spread to lymph nodes on both sides of his diaphragm, and it was a particularly aggressive form of NHL. Still, the doctors seemed hopeful that it would respond well to chemotherapy and had decided to start Peter on a 6-month course as soon as possible.

During the next week, we exchanged text messages regularly as he was readmitted to hospital to prepare him for chemotherapy. He told me how emotional he was finding facing his own mortality and told me to be grateful for every morning that I woke up and could get out of bed with no problem. But the conversation still ended on a positive note and we both sent our love. My weekend was busy and I only got home again late on Sunday, when Alison called me out of the blue and in tears to say that Peter had become incoherent sometime between when she left him on Saturday evening and returned on Sunday. In desperation she had tracked down his doctor who told Alison as gently as possible that the cancer was marching on relentlessly and that Peter probably had days rather than weeks left to live.

Peter passed away peacefully on Monday evening, 24 September 2007, having spent his last day surrounded by his family and close friends.

My brain tells me quite cheerfully that this could not have happened. Obviously there must be some mistake! When the Rugby World Cup started on 6 September, he was having tests for some unspecified infection and worrying about getting his fourth years’ projects marked on time, and before we even got to the rugby quarter finals, he was dead? How the fuck does than even begin to happen?? Surely bright, cheerful, clever, funny Peter must be OK? Surely there was far too much life-force in that body and optimism in those eyes to fade so fast and so soon? But sadly this is not a nightmare from which I can wake. He is gone and an ocean of tears can’t change that.

One of the things that will always remind me of him is a recipe that he gve me probably abotu 10 years ago now, and which I still make with reasonable regularity. I will leave you with the recipe, and when you make it, please take a moment to remember Peter.

Having grown up in South Africa, I have never regarded the avocado pear as a great delicacy – I mean, in season you could buy bags containing ten (admittedly not enormous) avocados by the roadside for R10 (less than £!!). I remember my father scooping the flesh loose from the skin and then mashing the flesh together with salt and pepper to spread on his toast – what a treat that was, but not exactly gourmet fare. However, since landing here in London, I have become accustomed to the silly prices charged for avocados here and as a result we eat them only as a treat.

I have often seen recipes for chilled avocado soup, but I must admit that the idea of chilled soup has never appealed to me. I mean, soup is associated (in my mind, anyway) with chilly winter evenings and I don’t imagine chilled soup will bring you much pleasure there! (I suspect that the idea behind chilled avocado soup is the fact that avocado becomes bitter if you boil it, so by serving it chilled you avoid this problem.) Anyway, as a result of my dislike for cold soups I never really bothered with avocado soup until Peter made me dinner one night and served up a warm avocado soup – I was instantly hooked. It fulfilled all my criteria for a great recipe:

1. It’s easy.

2. It features a raw ingredient I really, really like.

3. It’s easy.

4. It’s something a bit out of the ordinary.

5. It’s easy.

I admit that Peter’s original recipe does not include the biltong, but biltong and avocado have a long tradition of being served together in South African cuisine (biltong and avo salad; steak with biltong and avo topping etc etc). The soup turned out to be absolutely delicious – even better than I remember. It was creamy to the point where I was tempted to describe it as an “avocado veloute”, but then I took a step back from the abyss of pretentiousness and stuck with plain old soup

PETER’S WARM AVOCADO SOUP WITH BILTONG

INGREDIENTS

2 large, ripe avocado pears, mashed
1T butter or margerine
1T flour
2 cups chicken stock
2 cups milk
A dash of Tabasco sauce (optional)
Diced biltong and chopped parsley to serve

METHOD:

Peel, stone and mash the avocados, adding a little lemon juice to stop them from going brown. Melt the butter in a large saucepan and when it is melted, stir in the flour to make a paste. Add the chicken stock bit by bit, stirring to prevent the paste from forming lumps. After the chicken stock, add the milk and stir. When the milk has been heated a bit, add the mashed avocado and stir well. Season to taste with salt, pepper and Tabasco. Do not let the avocado boil as this will make it taste bitter! At this stage, I also give the soup a quick whirl with my beloved Braun hand mixer to get it really smooth and creamy. Dice some biltong (about a tablespoon per serving of soup) into small blocks, chop some fresh parsley and sprinkle on each bowl of soup before serving. Serves 4 to 6 people.

NOTES:

If you add lemon juice to the avocado, go easy on it – you don’t want its taste to interfere with the soup. You can substitute vegetable stock for chicken stock if you are cooking for vegetarians. The Tabasco can also be replaced with a couple of chilli flakes, but both are entirely optional. If you can’t find biltong, you could also use crispy bacon bits for a similar effect. The most crucial thing is NOT to let the avocado boil!

Cooksister

Popularity: 5% [?]