Ingrid Jones
Oct 23, 20232 min
After the viennagate debacle that erupted on the FOOD FAIRIES - Koe’sister Food Community and Lifestyle Facebook group when I posted a picture of the red devils because I remembered it fondly, many people retreated into their kitchens too scared to admit that a penny polony or vienna smoortjie are treasured memories in their growing-up years. That when they feel nostalgic they reach for that pinkish-red sausages, fry some onions and green peppers, add in a little chilly and maybe a whiff of masala, and eat it on white bread to reminisce about a life that lay in the past. Some defiantly decided they will cross the Vienna Rubicon and make that smoortjie. I, and people on that group, am very aware of the health risks involved in fatty and processed food, we know what goes into the viennas and do not make it a daily occurrence, and so the furore that ensued in the aftermath of a picture of a vienna played itself out in dramatic form. Sides were chosen and I was unofficially crowned Mrs Vienna 2023.
In this light I was adamant that I was going to make a bully beef smoortjie for my fellow campers, because it’s what I remember from my childhood camping times with my parents. Some of the campers were resolute that they would not eat it. I said: “If you expect me to eat yours, I expect you to eat mine.” Shots fired.
I bought nine tins of bully beef, four tins of Italian tomatoes, three tins of tomato relish. I had to be careful to buy the pork-free tin (why would there be pork in bully beef, anyway!). I chopped onions and fresh chillies, and smashed a few garlic wedges, that I brought from home and I was ready to start cooking my dish in a big, black cast-iron pot. The smell of onions and garlic wafted through the camp. Once the garlic were added, who could resist?
It was quite a lot of bully beef between 10 people, but I banked on the men having platesful. Nowadays friends are obsessed with one meal a day, no fat, no to just about anything. I watched them with an eagle eye, because revenge is a dish served cold. It was devoured by most, some ate with drawn mouths as if they grew up in the lap of luxury... I had two helpings, maybe three. On a bagel, on a roti and with rice. And with every little bit of fat dripping down my chin I relived every moment my mom made it at camp, remembered the kids who joined in from other tents and how we washed it down with sweet Oros while the sun set behind the dunes of the Hawston campsite.
Part 4 to follow.
P.S. Boeta Mel shared his recipe for the beans curry Ingrid mentioned in Part 2. Click here for the recipe.