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The cut: rump
The dish: biltong
I’ve always loved biltong. To me, it conjures up images of sweltering car journeys across South Africa, with me, my sister, and my cousins shrieking ‘Are we there yet?’ every 15 minutes. If you were lucky, your car had air-conditioning. And if you were even luckier, your dad would have a stash of biltong for padkos (food for the road).

My father always stopped for biltong at an old butchery in Mooi River when travelling up country. Looking at the meat hanging on hooks from the ceiling, he would choose a strip and the butcher would slice it on the spot. Cut thick and chunky, wet and fatty was how we preferred it. But it can be wafer thin, lean, or dry (‘snapsticks’) according to your choice. I still remember how in the heat, the brown paper bags would become translucent in patches where the fat had seeped through.

Londoners should be aware that this was before cheap air travel: a stinking, eight-hour haul to Johannesburg or an overnight trip to Cape Town was all we knew. Before there were cars, there were ox-wagons. That’s where biltong comes from.

On treks across Africa, settlers had to find a means to preserve their meat. They found the answer in salt from sweaty saddlebags, and hot air, a formula that eventually produced cured meat. Today, you can make biltong using very similar techniques, adding coriander seeds, herbs or peri to the salt for variation.
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With the help of rump meat from the Time Out cow, Del Boy, this week I made the best biltong I’ve ever tasted. In the front room of my Maida Vale flat I used the Biltong Factory from the London-based company www.makeyourownbiltong.com. The ‘factory’ arrived by post, neatly flatpacked and weighing a mere 3kg, costing £45.80. It came with a lamp (though it’s actually the movement of air that cures the meat, not heat), plastic hooks, spices and full instructions. In my excitement, I forgot to marinate the meat in wine or vinegar, but because of the quality of The Ginger Pig’s beef it still came out perfectly.

Thinking I’d struck gold I decided to see what the value of my biltong was. Though delicious, it seemed that the dried weight of my finished product could only sell at a loss, considering the superior meat I started with. So, sadly, this is not going to be my cash cow get-rich-quick scheme. However, if you’re not using the exquisite 45-day-matured rump of Del Boy, a couple of kilos of silverside from your butcher should be fine. But don’t use tougher cuts – they just won’t be edible. Claire Hojem

How to make it
1. Always use fresh, never frozen meat.
2. Steep the meat in red wine or vinegar for five minutes (to prevent spoilage; never use metal containers or wood).
3. Coat the meat liberally in spices.
4. Allow to marinate for four hours or overnight in the fridge.
5. Hang the meat in the drying apparatus to cure for two days (longer for those who prefer it well-cured).

We bought our longhorn, Del Boy, at Ginger Pig. For further information about Borut’s butchery classes, see www.thegingerpig.co.uk.