First Braai

“Can we have a braai?’

To be fair, those were not the first words out of my mouth upon seeing our site director. By bus, train, or giant van, six more people had just arrived in Mosselbaai to work in the lab before starting our full season out in Knysna. I had moved my residence from a local backpacker to the third story of a sprawling house. The view from the porch included most of the town, the bay, the mountains, and an expanse of shivering blue Indian Ocean and paler blue sky. The kitchen, unlike most places we’d previously stayed in, had sufficient room for multiple individuals to work. Additionally, a braai was a strict tradition among the SACP4 crews, and a great way to get to know other archaeologists.

The weather, since my arrival ten days prior, had been a balmy temperature, causing mass exodus from the chilly lab during tea breaks. Unlike previous winters (when I learned to braai so I could hold the space next to the warm fire and theoretically not freeze), it was perfect for relaxing on the deck, sipping a drink and eating the South African foods we’ve come to crave.

No one protested too strongly.

            As word spread around the other crew, it quickly became apparent that our braai needed to be spectacular, or at least worthy of mention in future seasons. The view alone should have been sufficient to warrant awe, however, the view was only the backdrop to the dinner.  

            As we have two vegetarians on our crew, our fare was focused less on the numerous types of meat one can acquire from any self respecting SA market. Corn, squash, tomatoes, mushrooms, onion, and peppers were foiled or buttered or skewered. Someone who loves baking offered to make brownies with cookie dough icing, an opportunity we leapt eagerly at and from then on made excuses to help out in the kitchen, hoping for a chance to helpfully rid the cook of any leftovers (notice our dedication to helping).

            Never one to pass up on an excuse to consume dairy, we decided to supplement the vegetables with macaroni and cheese. At some point or another it was further decided that we also needed an avocado salad, but that might have been overkill.

            But you wish to hear about meat. While shopping, we discovered that, due to the recent holiday, most delicious items were sold out. After some discussion and musing, we picked out the main courses (for the carnivores in our midst). Meat is especially important at a braai, and successful meat braaimasters appear to hold high places of honor on the crews. Given that we had volunteered to host, it was crucial to our success that we decide on the perfect combinations of flesh.

            At first glance, the lamb chops and boerwurst appeared sufficient. However, as we made our way to the long glass case, displaying fresh, probably fresh, and who the heck knows how long it’s been there meat, we happened to discover a new food: biltong steak. After some negotiating, this became our main course. Following further negotiating, I succeeded in convincing our site director that we should purchase chicken skewers, and with no convincing we got bacon wrapped skewers.

            Armed with a plethora of food, we ventured out onto the deck. It was difficult to take in the view, mostly because we had to keep an eye on the fire, in order to foster a strong bank of coals. For a six pm dinner, we had to light the fire by four.

            ….except that we didn’t have matches. Who forgets matches at a cookout? Luckily, we have some awesome neighbors (Thanks, Vleesbaai crew!)

            It was time to kick back, relax and try not to become too charred while turning the food. Right on schedule, and after most of the vibrant hues had faded, the dark rim of mountains framing the bay fading into the dark sky, our guests arrived. Chairs lined the edge of the deck, overlooking the shining lights. Food appeared, along with a few bottles of wine and peartizer, a non alcoholic SA specialty. It became chilly, but warmer by the flames.

            Later, following more food than we could eat, hours of conversation both serious and lighthearted, tours of the property, and several bags of firewood; we began to clear away the stacks of dishes, packing the leftovers as our guests wandered down the stairs and away.

            We’ll call this one a success.