On a random Tuesday, work was working and I was like, “I need something that will soothe my soul to end this day”. I was really nervous; this stuff is the stuff I do not want to mess up. Yes me, the savvy sprinkler of sumac. But give me some dried beans and samp and I’m shaking in my apron.
I wasn’t going to go the boiling-it-with-bones route that my granny used to do, but yes, oh yes, I did make my own bone broth. Insert roasted marrow bone broth here. I’d made a batch, as one does. I soaked my beans and samp overnight, as I’ve seen all through my childhood. We must be thorough in these endeavours. Once cooked, to say it was delicious is an understatement. Dare I say, I was exalted.
Fast forward to 2022. I’ve cooked a number of times, really just seeking perfection in every bowl and testing different broths (chicken is not the one). I shared cooking notes with my good friend who tried it out and, well, he said his husband may have shed a tear on tasting it.
This dish makes me a little bit of an evangelist; I wanted to share the virtues of umngqusho far and wide. I packed some for my dear friend who is not South African to try and he sent me a message later saying, “ Is one meant to eat all of that in one go? It was so good.” Therein lies my point. Never has a bowl of variants of brown tasted so, so much better than it looks.
Umngqusho — nostalgia in a bowl
The traditional samp and beans dish is a food movement all on its own and this recipe will show you how to cook it with the respect it deserves
Image: Supplied
I was chatting to my cousin, Rabia, and we were extolling the virtues of sumac in relation to my last column about the sumac-rubbed chicken when she asked me the ever-challenging question: “So, what food are you going to write about next?” Me: *sings* Release the Pressure.
Anyway, as I recovered from the daunting question and she rattled off possible options before we hung up, she asked, “Why not something we grew up with? (though in my food-loving family that really leaves me with loads of options). She then said, “What about samp and beans?” That hit me in my nostalgic soft spot! I mean, umngqusho is larger than the paltry term of “samp and beans”.
Umngqusho is a food movement all on its own. A lifestyle in a bowl, a mood, a state of being and honestly a delicious delight that supersedes mere words. That first spoonful from a steaming bowl of umngqusho truly is a feeling. Insert many sounds of delight here; a few “hmms”, a dash of “aahs” and a sprinkle of “mm mm mms”.
Recipe | Sumac Roast Chicken
It’s a story, I must say; I didn’t land up voluntarily cooking a pot full of umngqusho on a dreary lockdown day, it’s all because my older sister had no desire to do so. A strange thing about me is that I will happily delve into the strangest and most complex of recipes from far-off lands, but certain simple traditional dishes I’ve just left to the professionals in my family. My mother’s scones, for example; she has the right touch for the fluffiest, most buttery scones. My sister was my hookup for umngqusho — she had the touch, but unfortunately, often lacked the will and therein lay my quandary.
Lockdown struck and as it happened for so many of us, food became a prominent preoccupation. I found that I craved these simple dishes I grew up with and in all my grown years of cooking, I could not believe I had never tried to cook this simple dish of samp and beans. My hookup, though her “ngqush” (nickname for umngqusho) slaps, was not a very reliable source. Especially in winter, when her hips may hurt at random.
On a random Tuesday, work was working and I was like, “I need something that will soothe my soul to end this day”. I was really nervous; this stuff is the stuff I do not want to mess up. Yes me, the savvy sprinkler of sumac. But give me some dried beans and samp and I’m shaking in my apron.
I wasn’t going to go the boiling-it-with-bones route that my granny used to do, but yes, oh yes, I did make my own bone broth. Insert roasted marrow bone broth here. I’d made a batch, as one does. I soaked my beans and samp overnight, as I’ve seen all through my childhood. We must be thorough in these endeavours. Once cooked, to say it was delicious is an understatement. Dare I say, I was exalted.
Fast forward to 2022. I’ve cooked a number of times, really just seeking perfection in every bowl and testing different broths (chicken is not the one). I shared cooking notes with my good friend who tried it out and, well, he said his husband may have shed a tear on tasting it.
This dish makes me a little bit of an evangelist; I wanted to share the virtues of umngqusho far and wide. I packed some for my dear friend who is not South African to try and he sent me a message later saying, “ Is one meant to eat all of that in one go? It was so good.” Therein lies my point. Never has a bowl of variants of brown tasted so, so much better than it looks.
The ancient wisdom of a hot and sour soup
And please people, I am a purist. I eat my umngqusho plain. No stew, no meat, definitely no gravy, nothing but that bowl of slow-cooked goodness and a spoon. I know this is a matter of contention among my Xhosa peeps, but we move.
So here is the recipe that dire desperation drove me to. I’m grateful, because this really is a most special honour to now know how to cook this and I look forward to feeding it to my own children one day. A right of passage, as it were, and, well, it’s good for you. Especially the way I make it. Those who know me, know I rarely do things in halves, so this version of this traditional dish has my flair and also it’s umngqusho, but organic.
RECIPE | Roasted bone broth
Ingredients:
Method:
RECIPE | uMngqusho — Samp & Beans
Ingredients:
Method:
You might also like...
Recipe | Butter chicken
Turning the tables at Emazulwini Restaurant
Take your tastes buds on a tour across SA and into the continent
Review | The Chefs’ Table, Umhlanga