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Oh, how we lie to ourselves. Somewhere between the abattoir and the smelly tripe butchery, it hit me that I am a journalist, but with a different beat. My job is to investigate why Nigerians refuse to have garlic in their ogbono stew. Or whether one can dry shrimp for shittor relish in an oven or grill. One can't, and the process leaves one's kitchen smelling like a burnt fish market for days. I know
These were the thoughts that passed through my mind as I watched the butcher wrap my smelly story - perforated sheep's stomach - under an editorial on Cape Crime Gangs and I rushed home to cook it before the fat seeped through the borrowed car's seats.
Now that I have whetted your appetites, I will lead you through the gruesome process of preparing my favourite dish, m'tura. M'tura is the Kikuyu equivalent of Icelandic shótur, tripen from Luxembourg, Ukrainian kielbasa, Irish blood sausage and so on.
This, I guess is where all the quesy vegeterians, and carnivores who think that meat is grown in cellophane vats depart. Those of you who insist that those vast cold-rooms with hanging carcases are just places where Mafia Dons do business, and French movie directors film sex scenes, will not survive this article.
Bye!
There are various appetisers that Kikuyus adore: after harvest, fresh roasted or boiled white mielie cobs and roast sweet potatoes are common, while roast groundnuts are very popular in season.
On Sundays though, a couple of slices of m'tura are the only way to get the appetite going.
You see, Kikuyus, and more recently other Kenyans, are voracious carnivores at weekends. It is no coincidence that Kenya's best-known restaurant is The Carnivore.
We call roast meat nyama choma or 'nyamchom', and on weekends, herds of Kenyans leave the city and head up-country to eat meat at family-friendly beer gardens. At the top end of the market, these places have swimming pools, fun fairs and even golf courses. At the bottom end, there's beer, meat, and a psychotic barmaid.
Nyama choma is not prepared in the same way as a barbeque. The meat is not cut up into chops or steaks, but rather one goes to a butchery and picks the part of a hanging carcass one wants. Ribs, and a whole leg are especially popular.
Nyama choma is served with beer. Outside Nairobi, beer is served at room temperature, not because there are no fridges (even where they would normally be hard to find, Coca-Cola has generously provided) but because Kenyans love warm beer. It might be 45 degrees (Centigrade) outside, but we won't want our Tusker cold.
Why? Blame the British.
Or, on second thought, blame the Romans for colonising the British and teaching them to sell inappropriate technology like straight roads, sunscreen, boiled mushy veggies and Mr. Bean.
I once had an argument with a Kenyan barman who tried to tell me, with a straight face, that keeping beer in the fridge made it go flat.
The first time I tried to prepare m'tura in Durban, my hosts assured me I'd be able to find tripe in the supermarket at a nearby mall. I searched but could not find the tripe.
Eventually, I noticed a pair of cling-wrapped nappies sitting next to the pickled tongue. Either this was tripe or there was an illegal alien who needed to be deported to the baby section. Yuk!
It reminded me of the nickname we gave tripe as children: towels. We hated it.
Fortunately, only adults are allowed to eat m'tura - when one is able to drink a pint of beer without turning green, the palate is considered sophisticated enough to appreciate m'tura.
I didn't think supermarkets would take the name tripe quite so literally. For any self-respecting Kikuyu, passing those chemically cleaned, baby.com things is like trying to convince a Dutch dairy farmer that those Day-Glo yellow plastic packages in the dairy section are called cheese.
Is it really good for us to be so very sanitised? Why are we so afraid of real food?
Admittedly, tripe has, er, contents, and should therefore be washed thoroughly. It should also be cooked thoroughly and must be fresh. Most Africans, and Asians consider tripe, the head , hooves and so on to be the real delicacies in an animal.
So I ended up in Woodstock (Cape Town's ethnic buchery surburb -- they take all comers, Halaal, Kosher, Greek, African), checking sheep stomachs like a Supermarket Towel Buyer. I also managed to secure some bargain intestines to help with the stuffing.
Then for the blood.
Where to find blood at short notice in Cape Town?
I was turned away at the abattoir, which was good because I would rather not know what goes on in there. Fortunately, many Kenyans don't eat blood in their m'tura, so I decided to make a bloodless sausage.
In anthropological papers, the Kikuyu are often referred to as vegetarians. I adore anthropological papers, especially those written by really concerned ex-peace-corps workers. How many people get to read about themselves as anthropological specimens? It's like watching a B movie with yourself as the star.
Most of our food is vegetarian, but our long interaction with the Masai has influenced our diet. The Masai, by the way, have a traditional diet that is composed almost wholly of meat, milk and blood, and they have a dish very similar to m'tura. Scientists have been researching how the Masai have such low cholesterol counts. Apparently it's a result of the tradition of mixing milk with cow blood and a little cow dung (spicing), before storing it in gourds for a week or two. The fermented milk is called mursik and research shows that it contains several compounds that are associated with the reduction of cholesterol. It is delicious. It is like gourmet yogurt-smoky, very thick, and really creamy.
Let's make some m'tura! (Now Isaac, a friend, informs me that, strictly speaking, m'tura made of stomach is called n'dundóro , but like most Kenyans I will call it m'tura.)
INGREDIENTS
3 tablespoons chopped onion
half teaspoon chopped garlic
1 tablespoon oil
750g boneless forequarter of beef
Any chopped up pieces of tripe you favour
250g liver
1 green chilli, chopped
salt and pepper
1 sheep's stomach of approximately 200g
1 cup blood - there's always the neigbour...
Method
Clean the tripe thoroughly. Boil the stomach or intestines in salt for half an hour. Fry onions and garlic until onions are golden brown. Allow to cool. Cut beef into small cubes. Mix with blood and season with salt, pepper and chilli. Place mixture in the uncooked tripe and tie both ends firmly. Grill. Slice to serve.
****Oh a quick pronounciation lesson: the "'" in m'tura is pronounced like you say the letter "o", as in jackie "O."
The ó in n'dundóro is pronounced like the letter "a" , as in Jackie "A": m't'ra