Cape Town - Sitting at the hairdresser’s writing a column.
This one might need to be somewhat clipped as a result. Not that I’m necessarily about to get snippy with you, although some of the humour could be a bit off-colour. But – and you can take my word for this – no bad hair daze puns. Promise.
I have an odd sort of line in hairdressers and doctors. My doctor has two restaurants. And my hairdresser has a farm where, just last weekend, he slaughtered four ducks for the dinner table. They also have lambs, one of which, poor creature, has already been earmarked for the Christmas dinner buffet, and is being fed up (which I should imagine it is) with things that its owners hope will make it particularly enjoyable to eat.
I’m not sure I’d be able to look it in the eye, which is not to say I do not approve. I believe we should appreciate the provenance of the living things we eat, and that our children, if they’re going to have a lifetime of eating meat, should know that that shank comes from a cute liddle lamby, and that that leg quarter comes from a feathered creature with a whole lot of attitude.
Which, I suppose, helps us to feel less guilty when we’re eating one – the cuter and fluffier the liddle creature, the more the conscience is twinged.
I’m not convinced a meat-eating child should see the slaughtering process, although my dad made me watch when he picked up a chicken, held its down on a chopping block, and cut its head off in one clean blow.
It might be pushing things to expect all meat-eating children to go on hunts so that they can see the act of a wild animal being shot and brought home for the pot. Again, some animals in the wild are more beautiful than others. What is prettier than a springbok in the wild? What gorgeous markings it has, and how it leaps and bounds with a grace hardly any other creature possesses.
And there, in mid-leap, we will bring it down with a single shot, and watch as its lithe body goes limp and the life goes out of its eyes. No, don’t turn all vegetarian on me – rather just appreciate once more what it means to respect the meat that we eat. It is, like it or not, in human nature to live on the flesh of other creatures. It is a part of life.
I don’t get much chance to cook or eat game meats, not because I’m not a hunter – which I’m not – but because my wife won’t touch the stuff. My daughter has become more adventurous in recent years, so on a recent night when my wife was working late, I went to my favourite butcher in Kloof Street and bought a springbok loin.
Springbok loin has one thing over a beef fillet, which it resembles closely. Whereas the latter is often maligned for lacking in flavour what it makes up for in texture and tenderness, the former is packed with a flavour. It has the expected gaminess of such meats but not to the point of being unpleasant.
It is a little smaller than the average beef fillet, but a fair-sized springbok loin will comfortably feed (to my generally generous estimate) three people, possibly four. Any more than four would be plain mean.
One of my most favourite dishes ever was a regular on chef Franck Dangereux’s menus at La Colombe in Constantia. That was springbok loin with Bo-Kaap spices, the meat always lusciously pink and fall-apart tender yet holding itself firmly in the way that a beef or game fillet does. That is the magic of the fillet – it has tremendous presence on the plate and, particularly in the case of springbok, on the palate.
Springbok loin is easy and quick to cook, and needs to be served rare or at most medium rare. When it’s pink – like the one in the picture – it is not at all “bloody”. It has tremendous texture, is a joy to slice, and sits very well on the plate.
I like a sauce that has the elements of wine, something sweet, and spices. That’s the perfect triumvirate for almost any game meat. Having said that, game takes well to subtle herbs as well, and I cooked this loin in thyme butter, finishing it with a deglazing of red wine and the juice of an orange for a hint of sweetness.
Once you’ve seasoned with salt and pepper, you have pretty much all the umami boxes ticked. If you’d prefer a spicier option, leave out the thyme and replace with 1 tsp each of ground ginger, cumin and coriander.
Roasted springbok loin with red wine and thyme
3 Tbs butter
4 or 5 sprigs thyme, plus more for garnish
1 springbok loin
Salt and pepper to taste
3 medium beetroot, peeled and diced
Juice of 1 orange
1 glass red wine
Melt butter in a roasting pan and when it starts frothing, add thyme sprigs and use a wooden spoon to work the sprigs into the butter to get as much flavour into it as quickly as possible. Quickly remove the sprigs, add the whole fillet, and brown on all sides for about five minutes. Season with salt and pepper.
Meanwhile, have the oven brought up to 180ºC. Add the diced beetroot to the roasting pan alongside the fillet. Roast in the oven for about 20 minutes.
Wrap the loin tightly in foil and keep warm. Deglaze the pan (with the beetroot dice still in it) on the stove top with red wine and the orange juice. Season to taste. Serve the beetroot dice alongside slices of fillet, with plenty of sauce napped around.
Weekend Argus