Potjiekos: it’s stew, but you should try it
Potjiekos is one of those dishes that started out as utilitarian and developed into an art form that now has a life of its own, long after the original constraints were removed. A lot like one of our other favourites: biltong.
With potjiekos the constraints were fire and cooking containers. The introduction of the three-legged cast iron pot, the potjie, was a boon for all kinds of South Africans. These pots are virtually indestructible, which is handy if you are semi-nomadic like the early Afrikaners and a lot of local tribes. They are relatively easy to clean (if not by modern, teflon-tainted standards) and they can be used to make a wide variety of dishes.
They were also just expensive enough to keep the average family from coveting more than one or two. Also, as you’d know if you’ve ever roughed it for more than a couple of days, keeping a fire going takes work. When you have to gather your own fuel you don’t want to make for of it than is strictly required, especially if you’re stuck on the savannah where you are bang out of luck once you run out of cow dung to burn.
These two factors created a preference for one-pot cooking. Traditional Afrikaners and groups from just about every black tribe can make an amazing number of things in a single potjie. Potjiekos is simply the most impressive.
So what is it? It’s stew, if you want to be impolitely harsh about it. Potjiekos is the combination of a meat (beef, chicken or venison, traditionally) with a hefty dose of onion, potato and assorted other vegetables of your choice, although the use of broccoli is frowned upon.
The secret, or the open secret at least, is that you never, ever, ever stir a potjie. When it comes off the fire it should be perfectly layered so that you need a long spoon and good technique to dish it out properly. Stirring before completion is a sin punishable by raised eyebrows and a generally cool demeanour.
That is why a good potjie is such an art. It requires the perfect choreography of fire (not too hot, not too cold), ingredient selection and absolutely exquisite timing.
The end result is something that straddles stir-fry, boiling and steaming, with distinct individual notes contained within an overall harmonious symphony. Basically, you have to try it, especially as it doesn’t contain anything you haven’t eaten a million times before and therefore requires absolutely no culinary adventurism.
In theory you can buy decent potjiekos from a select few restaurants, but for the genuine article, cooked for at least four hours with constant vigilance, you need to find a male Afrikaner, preferably over the age of 45, who has developed his own unique take on the preparation – including some secrets that he will not share with his own mother.
