A stereotypical South African braai.

Most South Africans are very sociable people.  They will strike up conversations in queues, coffee shops and even between bathroom cubicles!  Almost a little latin in temperament, in other words quick to anger, slightly suspicious, yet helpful, quite often a chance meeting ends up with the inevitable. . . "We must braai sometime."  The South African tradition of braai is likened to the Australian, New Zealand and British barbeque, but is nothing like it.   A South African braai is uniquely disorganised. It is often spur-of-the-moment, with the guest list growing as friends of friends are spontaneously invited. It is wood in an outdoor fire place and a firestarting device, then charcoal and finally flames.  While the flames burn down to coals, there is drink.  Commonly beer or brandy and coke for the men and wine or spritzers for the ladies, but once that has run out, really anything goes!   Braai's are accompanied by salads like potato salad, beetroot salad, a green salad and rolls.  Often there is a speciality dish made by someone so requests for "Mel's cracked potatoes" or "Bella's curried bananas" are made. All the food, including the pre-margarined rolls, is laid out on the kitchen table. The cutlery, serviettes and condiments are displayed next to the paper plates which are stacked in flat wicker baskets to keep them from flopping once loaded with food. All this is covered with dainty white see-through lacey umbrella dome-type devices to keep flies at bay. Potato chips accompanied by dips are provided to ease the hunger pangs. If the fire has burned down enough, it is tested by holding a palm above the coals and counting to ten. To hot for hand, too hot for meat. The braai fire and the cooking of the meat is the preserve of the men who clap tongs and mutter among themselves about rugby scores. The kitchen area is where the women sit and put the world to rights along with plaintive bemoaning of loutish husbandly behaviour and knitting tips. Quite often the drink takes precedence and the braai extras like tin-foiled potatoes and mealies become casualties remaining sadly forgotten and blackened in the fire while the meat is consumed before it even gets to the neatly stacked plates. Bodies "rest" on couches, dogs are subjected to tearful life stories and children stay up far beyond their bedtime. There is sometimes drama, but this is usually resolved with smooshy sentimentality and unstable hugging. As people weave their way home, promises of doing this again are made. The chaos of bottles in various states of fullness, half-eaten food and over-flowing bin are left until the following morning. And on said following morning, the phone calls "Did I leave my sunglasses, cooler-box, children behind?" Or the classic, "I called to apologise. . . "