Feast logo

Chew on This for a South African Minute

"If the smell of Africa gets into your soul...you will never leave..."

By David LutesPublished 2 years ago 3 min read
Camp Snack - Grilled Caterpillars (actually, Mopane worms)

I may gross some of you out about my summer-drool-as-I-write delicacies - but I really have more sympathy for those of you who have not experienced South African cuisine.

An old African proverb worth quoting...

"If the smell of Africa gets into your soul, you will never leave. It will live in you forever. And if you ever do leave, you will always want to return."

I went there for one year initially when I was 18...returned to the US for two months...then returned for 12 more years. Africa's smell got into me; stayed in me; and still is these 50+ years later.

The smell of Africa.

It's a long list of things - at any given time, bursting or surreptitiously working their way into your consciousness; a unique combination of vegetation, heat, sweat, ocean or desert breezes, spice markets; and if music has a fragrance or taste, then yes, the beats and rhythms of a thousand cultural moods also working their way into your inner peace zone.

But then there's the food. South African food is that soul's soul - captivating, awakening and embracing you - comforting and exciting your spirit like no other place on earth. My summer memories blaze and explode in my heart and mind as I remember picnics and braais (bar-b-ques) on the beach or in the bush – or just by the side of the road.

Memory #1. There's snacky stuff...weird but surprisingly unexpectedly pleasant nibblies – e.g., roasted caterpillars (actually mopane worms).

Preparation is disgusting. First, their innards need to be squeezed out – this is because they contain a food plant which is indigestible. Then you must boil them for 30 minutes in salted water. After boiling, you need to spread them out on a tray and leave them in the sun and let them bake there for one or two days until crisp. The taste I experienced seemed to depend on my mood – could be nutty, leafy, like beef jerky, or (of course) like chicken chips.

Memory #2. Flying honeypot ants usually swarm twice per year. The air is suddenly full of these curious, flying bugs each with a small sack of honey near the rear. They plunge suddenly to earth by their millions, quickly shedding their wings seeking ways to burrow-like or hide in the soil...where they will form colonies and feed each other with honey. Immediately, thousands of birds also descend, devouring and gorging themselves on the sweet snack. And if we, meaning me and thee, are quick enough, we can capture a few ants and pluck off their honey sacks and pop them into our mouths...the sweetness utterly surprising and refreshing - and a tad addictive. From ant swarm and earth plunge, attempted burrowing, birds dive bombing, we scrambling to grab a few - it's all over in about 20 minutes.

Memory #3. Spit or pit roasted, continuously wine-basted whole goat. I was lucky enough, once, to be the guest of honor at one of the last braais I ever attended - at the end of summer, late March. Glass of Stellenbosch red wine in my hand along with a hunk of freshly baked homemade bread, the blissful smell of roasting goat filling the atmosphere...when I was handed a very large, sharp knife. The crowd of good, good friends (the true secret ingredient for any summertime meal memory), gathered around me (and the goat) as I was expertly guided to the most succulent, most desirable, most coveted part of the goat.

"Slice right along here...not too much...just a taste...a sample. Good. Perfect. Now, close your eyes...put it slowly in your mouth..."

As I put the piece of goat into my mouth, the group lip-licked their oo's and aah's and, nodded local knowledge appreciation nods, grunted and exhaled their satisfied, contented approval. Tears in my eyes, I could only smile-murmur, "Mmmm...oh yea!"

Memory #4. Any fruit, rum, or brandy-soaked trifle. That’s it! I’m done…now, I’m drooling on my keyboard, heart rate off the chart; pleasant memory tears beginning to salt my dried Kudu steak.

cuisine

About the Creator

David Lutes

Dave writes for the sheer pleasure of inspiring people to travel in their minds and hearts to places they've only dreamed about. He excavates from goldmine of ideas from 30+ countries he has worked in and the 12 countries he has lived in.

Enjoyed the story?
Support the Creator.

Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.

Subscribe For Free

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

    DLWritten by David Lutes

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.