In response to having “sides” with a meal. How about some real biltong? I explored a new roadside business that has set up on the entry to the second major country town as I drive to the city. The proprietors are South African. That is key to this story.
It’s an unassuming little shop. Sort of ‘tacked on the end’ of a large liquor warehouse store.
First thing, the young guy serving at the counter was healthy. Broad shoulders, bright eyes, well muscled, great skin and white smile.
He clocked that I was Australian. The other customers that came in were all South African.
This shop had a wall of meat.
One side of the shop was all air-drying cupboards with insect-proof mesh doors you could see through. On the other side of the mesh, inside the cupboards, was all air drying beef. Mainly biltong, but some droevoors as well. I selected a big chunk of plain beef with a nice line of yellow fat running down it. That advice was given to me by a South African friend.
“The plain one is the hardest one to eat,” he said. “Most Australians will go for a flavoured biltong with different seasoning rubs.” I said I wanted to test out his shop and his wares. The plain one would tell me best. He asked, “Before I sell you this, I will ask, what do you normally eat?” Hmmm, I thought, interesting. “Oh, I’m a carnivore.”
“Good,” he said, “ Do you want this sliced to eat straight away? It will give you the best flavour if I slice it.”
“Yes, please,” I said. He took the chunk of meat, hefted it, gave it a friendly squeeze, and carefully placed it on a cutting board. “Hmmm, yes, this is a good one,” he said to himself. Then to me, “This is a good choice.” I told him about my South African friend, a thin wisp of a young lady, blonde hair blue eyes, does yoga with all the vegans, he flinched, but is the strongest in the class, as she is a carnivore. She tried the way of eating because her husband, a chef, went carnivore to lose weight and to cure depression. It worked. She said it just felt natural to eat in a carnivore way, it was how she has been brought up in South Africa. But she said her mother would take her to the butcher in their town and walk through all the hanging meat, always looking for a good piece of biltong with a nice fat stripe. He nodded and sliced the meat expertly and with care.
“So you’re not into plant-based?” he asked.
“Not at all,” I said
He weighed up my bag of meat. It worked out to be slightly cheaper than a large rib, half kilo, steak from my butcher. The meat mass seemed about equivalent. But with slow air dried beef biltong the nutrient density is higher. The beef is not fast oven dried like beef jerky.
“I will bet you that you do not get out of the car park driveway before you start eating that,” he smiled.
I collected the proffered bag, it was weighty, and already had tell-tale grease appearing, and opened it to take my first piece of raw air-dried beef. Let’s just say the best I could do after some chewing and a swallow was to mouth a silent,”Wow!” He laughed.
What a tonic to the corporate lunch of the day before. That first taste was like that scene in Pixar’s Ratatouille film where the food critic tries the food and it unlocks a long lost memory of goodness.
Oh man, does this air-dried raw beef taste fantastic. Within a few slices one knows the feeling of satiety and repletion.
This shop will be a regular stop on the city drive. I hope his business does well on the edge of this plant-based driven world.
I’ll have to admit to having a few more pieces after taking the photo for this post.