I feel it is imperative that BIP considers some health and safety guidelines for communal or mass braaing. If we fail in this, we may well compromise our worldwide Braai Improvement Process (BIP) movement. I would like to offer the following example of a recent communal braai that I attended.
I was required to attend a parent’s campout night at a local school by my five year old daughter and my wife. Albeit reluctant, I agreed to this relentless pressure. I arrived at Hollow School with my new tent in tow and proceeded to try and erect it in a howling South-Easter gale.
After an hour of watching my tent roll across the school lawns with half of the poles spewing out, my wife gratefully accepted the help of a testosterone laden dad whom I had been steadfastly ignoring. He pointed out mere trivialities in my erection technique, such as using the pins at the bottom of the tent to secure the tent poles before raising them into the wind. I did not admit that I thought these pins were for mere decorative value or that I had avoided reading the instruction manual as any self-sufficient male would do.
However, this intrusion into my private affairs was a portent of worse things to come. As I needed to protect my BIP braaimeester identity, I did not volunteer my services to prepare or pack away braais. I did make sure that my tent was close to the braais. It took three people to light four braais, which consisted of 44 gallon drums cut in half on metal stands. This involved lighting paraffin firelighters and adding alien ‘rooikranz’ wood to the flames. Despite the gale, all of the braai organizers wore vests or T-shirts and shorts, which portrayed their protruding stomachs to perfection.
As there were between 60-100 people who potentially needed to braai, I watched the braais intensely and immediately carried my meat over as I saw the braai organizers surreptiously place their meat onto the fire. I attempted to be nonchalant as I surveyed the braais and had the good sense to bring my own braai tongs.
My first observation was that no one had the sense to use proper braai tongs, but instead most used the short handled scissor-type variety. Needless to say, most of the braaiers kept burning their hands and occasionally slopping their meat onto the floor. I chose to braai chicken wings, lamb sausage, pork sausages (for a neighouring tent owner who was a vegetarian and didn’t know how to braai) and kebabs primarily because they cook fast. Emulating the all male audience around me, I flexed my biceps and did sideways stretches to stop any one from coming too close to my area of the braai. Watching the guy braai opposite me was difficult as I kept wanting to intervene with one liners such as: “Pricking your food with a fork will really make sure it tastes like cardboard”, or “Are you aware that every time you pour marinade on, it burns?” However I rose to the challenge and remained silent. I even managed a polite but curt rebuttal when he tried to offer me help on braaing my own food.
It was after I’d finished braaing that the real bun-fight started. People had started to smell the braaied food and came rushing over. All sense of braaing space was lost and people leaned over each other with absolutely no sense of safety. Fat ignited at least two braais and the resulting panic ensured that food was spilled everywhere. However, there was one outstanding moment. A real braaimeester emerged and laid a 1,5 metre (4 feet) stick with impaled chunks of steak onto one of the braais. At the appropriate time he lifted it off and bare-chested he carried the cooked meat stick high above his head in order to avoid the throng of braaiers. A minute later he arrived back at the braais and looking rather red-faced placed his still raw meat stick back onto the braai. As more people arrived, I couldn’t help noticing that they were progressively spending longer periods at the braai until I realised that the coals had died.
As I lay in my tent afterwards listening to the delightful shrill screams of young children until midnight and the more intense sobbing of children who wanted to go home in the early hours of the morning, I realised that BIP needed to lay down some guidelines for mass-based braaing. These are my initial formulations.
However, this intrusion into my private affairs was a portent of worse things to come. As I needed to protect my BIP braaimeester identity, I did not volunteer my services to prepare or pack away braais. I did make sure that my tent was close to the braais. It took three people to light four braais, which consisted of 44 gallon drums cut in half on metal stands. This involved lighting paraffin firelighters and adding alien ‘rooikranz’ wood to the flames. Despite the gale, all of the braai organizers wore vests or T-shirts and shorts, which portrayed their protruding stomachs to perfection.
As there were between 60-100 people who potentially needed to braai, I watched the braais intensely and immediately carried my meat over as I saw the braai organizers surreptiously place their meat onto the fire. I attempted to be nonchalant as I surveyed the braais and had the good sense to bring my own braai tongs.
My first observation was that no one had the sense to use proper braai tongs, but instead most used the short handled scissor-type variety. Needless to say, most of the braaiers kept burning their hands and occasionally slopping their meat onto the floor. I chose to braai chicken wings, lamb sausage, pork sausages (for a neighouring tent owner who was a vegetarian and didn’t know how to braai) and kebabs primarily because they cook fast. Emulating the all male audience around me, I flexed my biceps and did sideways stretches to stop any one from coming too close to my area of the braai. Watching the guy braai opposite me was difficult as I kept wanting to intervene with one liners such as: “Pricking your food with a fork will really make sure it tastes like cardboard”, or “Are you aware that every time you pour marinade on, it burns?” However I rose to the challenge and remained silent. I even managed a polite but curt rebuttal when he tried to offer me help on braaing my own food.
It was after I’d finished braaing that the real bun-fight started. People had started to smell the braaied food and came rushing over. All sense of braaing space was lost and people leaned over each other with absolutely no sense of safety. Fat ignited at least two braais and the resulting panic ensured that food was spilled everywhere. However, there was one outstanding moment. A real braaimeester emerged and laid a 1,5 metre (4 feet) stick with impaled chunks of steak onto one of the braais. At the appropriate time he lifted it off and bare-chested he carried the cooked meat stick high above his head in order to avoid the throng of braaiers. A minute later he arrived back at the braais and looking rather red-faced placed his still raw meat stick back onto the braai. As more people arrived, I couldn’t help noticing that they were progressively spending longer periods at the braai until I realised that the coals had died.
As I lay in my tent afterwards listening to the delightful shrill screams of young children until midnight and the more intense sobbing of children who wanted to go home in the early hours of the morning, I realised that BIP needed to lay down some guidelines for mass-based braaing. These are my initial formulations.
- If you are invited to a large communal braai, don’t go unless it is organised by BIP.
- If you do go to a large communal braai, braai very early even at the expense of partially burning your meat.
- Never approach a large communal braai at the height of the activity – the spraying fat could scar you for life.
- If you are caught unawares and realise the coals might die before you get a chance to braai, slap anyone on the back and pretend you’re their long lost friend. Then leave your meat with them to braai. If your meat disappears, blame your friend.
- If the coals have indeed died, rub your food along the edges of the braai to coat them with braai fat and then approach other friends and family and offer to swop meats with them in order to vary the range of meats. Your raw food then becomes somebody else’s problem.
Warm regards
Shayfish
Quasi-South Region
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