It’s not raw meat, you bloody heathen
It’s cured. Dried. Preserved using what is typically a closely-guarded mixture of herbs and spices in a vinegar solution. And it’s called biltong (pronounced with equal emphasis: the piece of paper that tells you how much you owe + the clamping device used in food-preparation, typically found in the kitchen). It is one of South Africa’s most universally enjoyed delicacies, and speaking ill of it in public will earn you derision at the very least.
Biltong has a long and splendid history; it kept many an early white settler alive as they trekked through the mountains in their ox wagons. But it hasn’t been a white thing for a long time (as long as black people have been able to afford it, anyway). You can find the proof at any sufficiently high-end corporate function, one with the little tables dotted everywhere with bowls of peanuts and whatnot on them. If one of those bowls contains sliced biltong then it will be mobbed and cleaned out within seconds of the guests being let at it. In fact, you’d be hard pressed to keep the staff from pilfering it before the doors are even opened.
Yes, those really are all of the ingredients. No added MSG; that makes it health food, right?
South Africans have more kinds of biltong than you can shake a stick at, and arguments between aficionados of different types can easily flare up into holy war, so beware. The most common, and cheapest, is beef; the country is awash in cattle and red meat is cheaper here than anywhere outside of South America. In the race for national favourite, however, it is a close tie between Springbok and Kudu, with Gemsbok and Eland tied for third and fourth.
You can find biltong literally anywhere, thanks to the mass production of recent years and the distribution to 24-hour garage shops in convenient snack-sized packs. And you can trust those packets in the garage shops; those manufacturers are closely watched by the retailers, who know their stuff. But for the the best biltong you want to find yourself a specialty retailer. Almost any decent-sized mall will have a little biltong kiosk somewhere, with the goods sold by weight and open for you to make your own selection. Most have knowledgeable staff too.
The other variation, aside from the type of meat, is the form factor. You’ll find pre-prepared packs that are sliced, chunked or in what are known as “TV sticks”. At better retailers you’ll also find the whole slabs as they are cut and dried and velle or skins, which are big pieces sliced so thinly as to be transparent.
If you don’t love chilli in all its forms it may be best to steer away from the “chilli bites” or similarly named types, though. Those bastards can pack one helluva punch. Droëwors (dry sausage; don’t even try to pronounce it) may also not be your friend unless you like fatty stuff. It’s good, but it’s not everybody’s cup of tea.
