Feb 6, 2010

laaiplek and hollywood chops

We fled Langebaan, heading north again. Saldanha loomed on the left, but we avoided that too. The road became even quieter once we passed the Paternoster turn-off, so beloved by shiny GP 4x4 owners. Once we passed the Cerebos factory in Velddrif, I knew we'd com to the right place. It felt rural again, but in the good way. Platteland. Wide roads, built in an era of optimism, flanked by unassuming houses. Here and there something shinier was to be found, but for the most part the town felt suitably forgotten.

We had a tiny apartment in Laaiplek, on the mouth of Berg river. As we unpacked our bags, the all important box with garlic and other necessities had gone missing. Left at home, to be more precise. There was to be a significant amount of teasing when we got back.

We explored the town. The search for food led us to a butcher. An airlock of screen doors kept the flies out, while Vleisraad posters hung from the walls inside. We bought a lamb sausage, then carefully enquire about the advertised "Hollywood chops". Sensing a sale to out-of-towners, the butcher explained his invention. He takes a rib of lamb, carefully de-bones it, then stuffs it. The rib is then cut into chops, that you can simply pop onto the braai. "And what do you use for stuffing?", I asked, while peering at the mince-filled disc with a thin border of lamb. "Well, you see, that is the secret". We decided not to buy any.

That night we made the sausage on the fire, while the harbour's light reflected off the lagoon.


Marie said...

Wahahahahaha. Hollywood chops. Shame, the poor butcher. You're making me lus for wors.

arcadia said...

(Dit was goed.)