AROUND the world they are known as corn or maize, but to South Africans they are mealies, a much loved summer treat, served hot so the butter melts and runs between the pips. A dash of salt and pepper is all that is then required. They are as South African as pap en wors.
As children we roasted them on the coals of the donkey, a wood-burning boiler, which was used to heat water. The smoky taste was one which now echoes from a more carefree time.
We ate them off the cob, butter dripping down our chins, fingers burning from the heat. My mother, however, was far too genteel for anything resembling bad table manners so she would cut the kernels off the cob with a knife and then eat them with a spoon. Polite I suppose, but nothing beats sucking the moisture from the cob as a final taste tingle, and anyway, what were serviettes made for but to clean up butter-greased faces and sticky fingers. She always threatened to buy a set of little forks that were skewered into the cobs at each end so the process of eating mealies was a bit more refined. She never did but we would not have used them anyway.
Mealies have stages of maturity and once they have passed the young and shiny stage it is time to make mealie bread.
I cannot think of mealie bread without recalling an incident many decades ago which still makes me laugh.
We were lunching with family friends who lived on a smallholding in the sticks. There was a large gaggle of children at a separate table, and where my brother and I were seated we had a good view of the kitchen and the lady of the house. She was a large, strong, farming stock woman in a sleeveless summer dress. From our birds eye view we watched her tuck a large loaf of mealie bread under her hirsute armpit so that her hands were free to carry other things. Did I mention it was a swelteringly hot day? My mother was puzzled by our lack of enthusiasm for a slice of mealie bread and we never told her until years later.
The best mealie bread was made by my nanny, the Zulu way. She would make the mealie mixture and then stuff it into the leaves of the mealie which were held together by a little stem. This was secured by tying these parcels with string. Sections of the mealie stalk would be put in the bottom of the pot and the mealie bread laid on top of these to raise them above the water where they would steam for a few hours. That was the best mealie bread ever.
On my way home I see makeshift tables laden with mealies on the side of the road in Sarnia and I am tempted to buy some to make mealie bread.
It’s not difficult and uses few ingredients. You need at least four large mealies, kernels cut from the cobs with a sharp knife, an egg, a bit of four, baking powder (about a teaspoonful or two), some salt and about a flat tablespoon of sugar. The mealie kernels need to be minced. If you own one of those mangle types that grandma used, they are the best for this, but a food processor will do. Keep the mixture quite chunky. To this add the other ingredients and spoon the mixture into a greaseproof paper-lined bread or cake pan. Cover the top with tinfoil and set this into a large pot with simmering water that reaches two thirds up the side of the bread pan. Steam for two hours or so and serve warm with butter and honey.. Comprehensive recipes are available online.
