[Pigging by Wilfrid: September 15, 2008]
All the best sources tell me that a braai is an Afrikaner barbecue. And I believe them. After all, I've never been to South Africa, have known relatively few South Africans, and haven't knowingly eaten South African food before.
All of which disqualifies me from doing anything other than presenting a few impressions of dinner at this newcomer from the folks behind the nearby South African wine bar, Xai Xai.
I happened to go the night one of those winsomely named hurricances dragged its moist skirts through midtown, and what with the rain, a broken umbrella, and a mix-up over the address, I arrived somewhat after my reservation time. "Won't matter," I thought. "Nobody will be out on a night like this, certainly not to eat South African cuisine."
I was wrong. A very decent crowd was buzzing inside Braai, at the bar and at the tables. It's a long, almost cylindrical room, with a cute thatched ceiling - if that makes sense.
"Fifteen minutes late," noted the gatekeeper. I made a forlorn, diluvian gesture. But she was joking, and a charming hostess she turned out to be. (Service was sweet throughout, but some of it from the we're-all-in-it-together stable - "Hey, what's in that? I haven't tried it. Sounds good.")
It's one of those restaurants where a stack of reading matter is delivered to the table: a menu, and separate cards for wine, cocktails (and I swear there was something else). The menu, in any case, opens with lists of soup and salads, appetizers, and grilled skewers which are about appetizer size, before moving on to a fairly brief list of entrées. I thought I could manage a skewer and an appetizer before moving onto the meat.
From the house cocktails, I chose a Cape Doctor, figuring that it the weather called for a tot of brandy. Further research tells me that it's named after a bracing wind which is thought to have a health-giving effect on the air over Cape Town. It turned out to be a breezy affair, the South African brandy - KWV - extended into a long drink by the addition of orangey Patron Citronge and guava juice.
The kreef was a bit of a shot in the dark, cheerfully translated by the menu as "lobster/crayfish" [sic]. Well, which? But no matter; crustacean nomenclature is an advanced subject, and the best I can do is describe this as a small lobster tail, served out of the shell but with the shell still attached. Of South African provenance, according to the menu, it was sweet and - importantly - neither rubbery nor cottony. Just about right.
It came with some young vegetables, gently charred, and some long-stalked watercress which decorated several of the dishes. The mango/lemon caper sauce leaned toward the mango end of the combination - a little bit of a "sweet 'n' sour" effect for some tastes, possibly, but I liked it.
I'd read references to interesting game meats like antelope in the restaurant's pre-publicity - although the Times' claim that zebra would be available (really) always struck me as hooey. Maybe more is to come, but the gamiest I could find on the opening menu were ostrich and venison.
The venison skewer was notably good, the cubes of meat both tender and - again - lightly charred, and with actual venison flavor. Bits of apricot were nestled alongside the meat. There was something spicy in the garnish too; indeed a subtle pepper-warmth built slowly throughout the meal. It comes with rooibos syrup, and I looked that up for you too: a syrup flavored with the leaves of an indigenous South African bush from which tea is popularly made. So.
Some effort seems to have gone into sourcing the ingredients here, but I know ostrich is now farmed domestically in the States, and I forgot to enquire the geographical origin of the bird on the menu. It comes on a skewer, but I ate it as a main course. It's a long-time since I ate ostrich (bizarrely, I think that was at Chanterelle), and it can be a dry and fibrous bird - it's famously lean.
For me it was cooked a little beyond what was necessary here. It was resolutely medium, and I've had chosen it rarer if asked. But there was no great detriment to the thick puck of meat (with a little crispy skin - ostriches have skin?), which was moist enough. The potatoes were described as "curried coconut", but they were on the curried side (fine - I wasn't sure I wanted coconut in my potatoes); the bird was capped with a lychee, and served on a peri peri sauce - spicy again - studded with blackberries. I grew up with blackberries, and like them very much.
No need for sides, having ordered three courses, and that saves me trying to tell you what umgushu-samp might be. I did manage a dessert, though: the lyrically named koeksisters (okay, that's a long story, look that one up for yourselves).
The starring role goes to a sort of sausage-shaped donut, glazed with syrup. It's served here balanced on a "yogurt mousse", which I thought had just an exceptionally appealing texture. It reminded me of old-fashioned ice cream. There's ginger, honey and rooibos in the sauce. Yes, it is sweet.
The wine list, of course, is South African, and I think only one bottle reaches three figures - and Braai takes the excellent route of offering every wine in a half-litre flask. A half-bottle (375cl) never seems quite enough, but a restaurant needs to be confident of its turnover to open full bottles and pour them in 500cl measures.
Warm, fruit-forward, approachable South African reds are certainly appropriate with cooking which features peppery spice as well as a spectrum of sweeter flavors in all the savory courses. I enjoyed the Max by Miles Mossop, where a cabernet sauvignon/merlot blend is helped out by petit verdot.
Anyway, I really enjoy Merkato (see here and here), the pan-African meatpacker. Not everyone does. I found the food at Braai to be similarly bright, interesting, unusual and hearty. A spot of giraffe would sure lure me back.
The web-site currently shows little other than a pdf menu, but it's here.
