The Land of Meat, for Some: A Preface to Namibian Street Food (NAMIBIA post 1 of 2)

Let me first off begin with a correction to my MOROCCO post "Brain and Liver on a Stick" and an apology for my cultural insensitivity. As a friend kindly pointed out, the brain I ate was more likely to be lamb than pig considering that Islam is the predominant religion in Morocco. It was a delicious lamb's brain that I ate.

Onto Namibia.
To give a justifiable account of the "hidden" world of street food in Namibia (explored in my next post), I must first preface it with a more familiar depiction of foods visible to a typical visitor of Namibia.

On the 30 km stretch from Walvis Bay up to Swakopmund, a coastal German town and tourist destination, a friend questioned her taxi driver on what to eat while in Namibia. "Meat!" was his enthusiastic answer. Namibia is a country with a meat fetish. Wild game hunting is a popular activity as well as an industry, providing the exotic ostrich, zebra, boar, springbok, kudu, and oryx commonly featured on menus. (The latter three are antelope species). The pervading trend here is inexpensive animal-sized portions, reminiscent of the Caribbean style of preparation; seasoned, grilled fish, Hawaiian burgers and fries, rice pilaf, etc. Besides slightly uncommon combinations, such as mussels (shells included) topping pizzas, the food is recognizable to a Westerner's, or perhaps mid-Westerner's palate.

Swakopmund is a German colonial town North of the port of Walvis Bay. Directly to the east, Windhoek, the Country's capital city lies in the heart of the country. Despite its unflattering name, Swakop is a coastal mecca, a sleepy hidden oasis. Restaurants, and pubs particularly, are filled with South African whites and tourists, with a sprinkling of native locals. We wandered around the beachside craftsmen's plaza before heading into a popular steakhouse for lunch. The food here was fine. A slab of sizzling meat on an iron platter, larger than a man's head (which none in our group ordered, but salivated over a neighboring table's) was probably the most exciting item on the menu. The restaurant's namesake burger towered a solid foot (at least) and pizzas the size of a medium sized bicycle wheel ranged from $4-7 USD. I was frankly a little more than disappointed to have stepped directly out of the Moroccan cultural immersion back into an African version of Monterey Bay.

Namibia is a relatively young country, gaining its independence in 1990. The destructive vestiges of apartheid are still apparent in shops, particularly within the service industry. Restaurants are nearly always owned and frequented by whites, while blacks are employed to run the show. The roads are starkly clean to the point of being barren, street food is nonexistent in town centers. In a restaurant seemingly dedicated to ostrich meat, we encountered a blend local ingredients prepared in the European style. Table cloths and glass candle votives dressed up the wooden tables where white patrons perched with their cocktails. A local musician serenaded us with his guitar from a corner. We sampled ostrich kebabs laced between onions, sweet peppers, and dried apricots, a generous 79 NAD ($8 USD) plate, and minced ostrich homemade raviolis in a silky butter sauce. Ostrich is a red meat (surprise!), similar in flavor and texture to beef with a wilder tang and far less fat and cholesterol. [Another fact check for a restless employee on lunch break - Ostrich contains less saturated fat / cholesterol / or total fat than chicken]. The cubes were slightly burnt and the bird was tougher than the standard cow but without being dry. I enjoyed it more than beef, however I have a bias for gamier flavors. The minced ostrich enveloped in a thick, homemade skin didn't have a distinct flavor but was smoother in texture than beef. The true highlight of dinner, however, was the Illy (Italian) coffee that rounded out the meal. With the exception of Moroccan coffee (more milk than coffee), I'm beginning to believe (supported by hard evidence) that team America is sorely beat in the coffee realm.

JERKY
I cannot understand the obsession with Biltong aka "beef jerky", visible everywhere throughout the country. Keeping consistent with our MEAT theme, the jerky hangs in plastic bags emblazoned with its signature blue "Biltong" brand in every gas station and convenient mart. We munched in a cafe dedicated to the snack fad and variations of jerky, "Slim-Jims", and jerky nuggets on the menu. With jerky, what you see is pretty much what you get, and the addition of melted cheese and grilled bread merely added a layer of saltiness to the dish. Granted, a small sandwich goes for about $2 USD if you're peckish between meals.

A PLUG for (Desert) PEACHES
Its not ALL about the meat. So far, I've maintained the habit of visiting the local market while in port. This latest excursion led me to the most fortunate discovery of the Desert Peach. It's fuzzy, mid yellow skin revealed no clues to the liquid gold, sweet fresh flesh and juice wrapped inside. (Picture the hue of a golden orange African sunset and you're on the right track). My companion's eyes light up and a smile only describable as James plunging his face into into his giant peach came across her face when I forfeited a bite to her. I made the half an hour saunter under the blazing direct sun to revel in a second peach, even greater than the first (if possible, and it was).

Despite my reinforced statements of Namibians' love of meat, the average Namibian consumes less than 300 calories a day from meat. The economic disparity in Sub-saharan Africa is embedded in the unique food patterns of blacks and whites. Steaks and fancier preparations of meat are consumed by a minority of upper class Namibians (as I observed) in addition to tourists. (Swakop, like Marrakech, heavily catered to the ideal tourist). Meat in various forms is still enjoyed by local populations, however with much simpler, down and dirty preparation techniques.