Reflecting on forgotten foods and culinary memories

Afrikaans author Marita van der Vyver recalls in her foreword to Retro Karoo Food, a welcome new South African cookbook, how certain foods can conjure up childhood memories and she refers to the nostalgia rush triggered by a madeleine cake in Marcel Proust’s In Search of Lost Time. For South Africans, the triggers can be different.

“It might be an Ouma rusk dunked in a mug of Ricoffy, a bite of bunny chow, the sticky sweetness of Peppermint Crisp tart or the traditional chicken pie (with sago and slices of boiled egg and bits of ham, yes!) that your ma used to make. That is what this book is about — all those beloved tastes that can drown South Africans in nostalgia. No matter where in the world we ended up living, we have a collective culinary memory that often cuts across the divide of religion and politics.”

Tony Jackman’s book contains a smorgasbord of South African dishes, much beloved by local foodies, all of which “can be made by a reasonably competent home cook”.

They represent the diversity and culinary excellence of the various communities that have made South Africa their home — with some farming kitchen favourites alongside the highlights of local Indian and Cape Malay gastronomy.

There are soups, starters, curries, roasts and desserts, with recipes that Jackman has collected and refined during his time in the Karoo.

“A quarter of the way into the 21st century, and in my 70th year, I present this book to the nation and the world with a particular intent: to provide a distillation of the recipes we love the most — the ones that really count and have meaning for us: the boontjiesop and the skaapstertjies; the chutney chicken and Durban curry; Leipoldt’s tomato bredie and Dorah Sitole’s steamed bread; soutribbetjie and salt beef. I share many recipes for the potjie and braai and a host of sweet things: tipsy tart and Japie se gunsteling; red prickly pear ice cream and green fig preserve ice cream; pears Belle Hélène, Cremora tart and, yes, Peppermint Crisp tart,” he writes.

There have been numerous South African cookbooks before this one, with my own favourite being Michael Olivier’s lovingly compiled Friends, Food, Flavour, so Jackman’s challenge was to bring together a collection of recipes that work.

There was only one way to judge his success, and that was by cooking a few dishes.

I started with my favourite local and lekker dish, Jackman’s bobotie. It was delicious. The instructions seemed to miss one step, the soaking of a slice of bread in milk, but I was able to proceed, as I had cooked many a bobotie before.

This recipe called for a mixture of 230g of minced lamb plus 230g of beef or venison mince, but not having the benefit of a Karoo butcher who could have offered such bespoke quantities, I just used 500g of lamb, and it worked very well indeed. So well, in fact, that in future this will be my go-to bobotie recipe. Jackman suggested serving the bobotie with turmeric rice, but I opted for a salad instead.

Next, I tried his roast butternut soup to see if it turned out as well as the recipe I had previously used. Once again, it worked extremely well. Jackman’s recipe was slightly more work than I am used to, as I had previously used a pack of ready-butchered butternut squash cubes from the supermarket instead of halving, deseeding and roasting the whole fruit (yes, it is a fruit) myself.

However, I was faithful to the recipe, and, once again, Jackman’s method worked extremely well. The soup was delicious. I couldn’t be bothered to prepare croutons to go with it, but a crusty baguette worked well.

As winter approaches, this recipe will be ideal for a chilly night. Make an extra-large batch and freeze it. It is just as good the second time.

My only quibble is that the recipe called for cloves of pickled garlic and the jar of these I found was more costly by far than the butternut. I suppose I could have done the pickling myself, but it would have added to the hassle.

Would it be third time lucky? This book has a selection of curries, and I opted for one of the simpler ones — the chicken and apricot coconut curry. This required me to stock up on an ingredient I do not usually have in the pantry — coconut oil — but I got hold of some, as, once more, I wanted to be faithful to Jackman’s recipe.

What was the curry like? The author suggested this was a “quick and easy supper that virtually cooks itself … perfect for a hassle-free weeknight supper”.

I did stare at the ingredients for a while, shouting suitable commands, but the curry refused to cook itself, so I went to work.

I scored a hat-trick with my third choice. While not bearing much resemblance to a traditional Indian curry, this was a perfect example of how food has evolved in South Africa and how tasty that evolution has been.

This curry was fruity, with just enough spice kick. I can’t wait to cook it again.

Based on my sample of these three recipes, this is a cookbook to covet. If the Karoo is symbolic of a South African culinary landscape, then Jackman has chosen well.

I have one complaint, though. Only one of the three dishes I attempted was illustrated with a photo.

Instead of illustrating all dishes, there are many pictures of Karoo houses, stoeps, dining rooms and landscapes.

I prefer my cookbooks to have illustrations of the food, as I have never found houses, staircases or dining room tables to be very tasty.

However, this is a small quibble, and I suppose the scenic Karoo illustrations may attract a wider readership. This book deserves it.

What is most important in a cookbook is to provide some excellent recipes — ones that really do work — and on that score, Jackman has triumphed.