Mzolis Meat Place

The first in our food series comes from Mzolis in Gugulethu, a black township outside Cape Town. Townships were set up during the apartheid days and divided according to race. While these days they (mostly) have power and water out there, and (some) people have managed to build houses, not much has changed in terms of who lives in which townships, or the (lack of) opportunities people have access to.

But Mzolis is world famous. It's essentially a butcher, but it's become so much more. You roll up to the butcher shop and choose your meat. It's weighed, you decide whether you want special sauce, chakalaka and pap, then you pay. It's all loaded onto a tray, which you carry through the butcher and out the very back. There, friendly guys tending huge wood fires greet you, take the trays and tell you when to come back.

For us, it was about half an hour. We met Mr Mzoli himself as he took delivery of a load of lamb. We had a chat about words for 'goat' (it wasn't easy to pronounce - we're looking for names for the car when we get her), but he said it's mostly the muslims in the other townships that eat goats. "Here, it's sheep" as he indicated the 'backie'. He kindly pointed us in the right direction for supplies and we went off to buy some drinks, napkins and cutlery.

All around the butcher shop locals have set up stores in containers, to cater for those like us who arrive unprepared. We wandered to two for the cutlery and the booze, then went and staked out a place inside. Beside the butcher, under a tin roof and a few marquees, there are loads of plastic tables, plastic chairs and a thumping dj. This is where the action happens. A few beers down and our 'braai' was ready.

Our selection of lamb, sausage, steak and chicken arrived on our steaming tray, coated in sauce - chakalaka and pap on the side. We quickly learned why Mzolis got its reputation, and systematically destroyed what meat normal humans would consume in a week. Wow.

A few more beers down and Nikita was getting her groove on. Actually, everyone was already getting their groove on, but it took a bit of courage to join in the crowd. We're in Africa! People CAN dance! Luckily, there were many many friendly and capable women willing to try and teach a white girl some moves. Absolute hilarity but there was lots of support! The place had a thumping vibe, super friemdly people and before we knew it, all of Saturday was gone. Eventually, we dragged ourselves away from the party and back to town.

Sunday brought a thumping headache, some aching muscles and lots of fond memories of delicious food and delightful company. It's definitely one place to make it back to