Brown Jam

I had a recent discussion with a friend about why I believe our local food culture is in serious trouble. To quote Bob Dylan: “Seems sick an’ it’s hungry, it’s tired an’ it’s torn. It looks like it’s a-dyin’ an’ it’s hardly been born”.

In my view, the biggest threat to the survival of our fragile food culture is our own preference for convenience. We would rather buy our food than make it ourselves. Note: I did not say cook it ourselves, I said make it ourselves.

What’s the difference?

The act of cooking involves taking ingredients and applying heat and seasoning to them to make them more palatable. In our modern world, most of the ingredients we use are store-bought, i.e. grown, manufactured and even cooked, but by someone else.

This someone is usually unknown to us, is located far away from us and is inspired and driven by corporate profits. On top of all of this are those entities whose job it is to market these products to us. They will tell us why we should buy this brand rather than that brand; why we should buy now and not wait for tomorrow; and why we should be willing to spend more on some recently invented concoction that looks and tastes just like an existing one but comes in a different package.

This issue is not so much of “do we really need all of what we buy?” but “do we really need to buy all of what we want?”

With this question in mind, I went through my fridge to see what store-bought items I have that could just as easily have been made by myself.

The list contains the following items: Liver spread, mayonnaise, pickled cucumbers, chilli and garlic sauce, sauerkraut, bacon, butter, sausages, yogurt, various jams and a host more that have transformed themselves into something very different from what they once were there way back in the fridge where nobody sees or touches them.

The point is a very simple one: I am paying for contents, marketing, packaging, transportation and storing of goods I could make in my own kitchen, and I overspend on items that I do not often use, mostly because I cannot buy them in smaller quantities. Thus, if I make these at home, I could save on all those extra costs and make them in quantities I really need and thus cut down on wastage.

“Sounds all too easy, where do I find the time?” I hear you object.

Granted, in our modern world, we do not have a lot of time for matters other than jobs and careers and raising children (although we have found innovative ways to outsource the latter).

“I would love to but do not know how” sings the second choir of objections.

The two objections are not unrelated. One leads to the other and both contribute to the vanishing of our food culture. When I have no time and when I do not know how, I’ll get it from the shop. Quick and simple.

Personally, I have observed how food knowledge and skills have disappeared within a single generation. I have also observed how expensive and time-consuming it can be to get it back.

The sad truth – I believe – is that neither of the two complaints is entirely legitimate. Please let me explain.

With the techniques such as dehydration and fermentation, we could produce flavourful and healthy food products with almost no time required for cooking.

To make sauerkraut, for example, all that is required time-wise is about one hour hands-on time. Slice the cabbage, rub with salt and allow to wilt. Put in fermentation jar and set aside for a few weeks till it is ready. It takes less time than to wash a baby – or so I am told.

Take those fruits that are about to go off, slice and add to the dehydrator. Dry for a few hours or a day or any which way to your liking. Put some in the children’s lunch boxes and voila! Your fruit lasts longer and the kids have healthy sweets, and best of all, it took almost no time and you do not have to go to the shop. Everyone wins, right?

Modern kitchen technology is based on the assumption that you do not have time, and that you don’t know how long to cook a roast (or whatever).

But with the internet, how can anyone claim not to know how? Really?

The real problem, so I told my friend, is our willingness to engage with our food. We can do it, but only if we decide to do so, and frankly most cannot be bothered.

To those, may I ask to then please support those who take the time and make the effort to make local ingredients and food. Those who produce and sell at markets and at delis and in local restaurants; those who care about our local food culture and try to develop and promote it.

Spend your money wisely and spend it with the right people. For they are under great threat of being run over by our preference for manufactured convenience. Once we lose them, there will not be a way to get them back. That is a fact: Once burned, twice shy.

This week’s recipe is for home-made rillettes – a type of French meat pâté also referred to as ‘brown jam’. Although traditionally made with pork, I have changed the recipe to be made with oryx meat. I suspect it would be great with zebra too. Just make sure you add enough fatty meat, as it is necessary to get the right consistency. And, because, like you, I do not always have the time, I sped it up with a pressure cooker. You can, however, also do it the old school French way: Low and slow as described in the recipe. What you cannot do, though, is not make this yourself. It is winter; now go on, treat yourself.

Ingredients

• 1 kilogram pork belly (with loads of fat)

• 6 bay leaves

• 6 sprigs thyme