Suffering in the bush

After some braai-less weeks barbies again dominated last weekend.
Saturday Tears & Andre invited their Tanzanian friends and us. As a pre-dinner treat Andre took us around the golf course where they live, in their new cross-country, off the road cart. Meanwhile Tears prepared a great Kalanga okra-dish, a beautiful bream for Maud, and of course pap.
When it comes to braais, things are exactly the same as in the Netherlands: it's a men-thing. So later on Andre had to sweat over the lamb, chicken and, for the non-Muslims, spareribs.


Sunday Pelo & Jeff practiced for the big event next week, Yvonne's graduation party, by throwing a braai. While the girls prepared their salads and pap, we elderly women sipped our drinks and watched the miracle. Men that probably never enter a kitchen except for getting something from the fridge suddenly are chefs when it comes to an outside fire and meat.


Usually they gather around the braai-stand to debate the perfect method. But not when it's Jeff's braai: his superiority when it comes to meat goes without question. So like good little boys they just watched the master in awe.