Description: South Africa – 15/11/09There was a man eating crocodile at Jabula.
It was me.
For at the South African owned and run
Jabula you can not only eat South African meals, but you can also eat South African meats.
Jabula is the only South African restaurant in the UK outside London, and conveniently located for Manchester and Liverpool in Ellesmere Port, at the River Dee end of the Manchester Ship Canal. As such it lies in Cheshire rather than Greater Manchester – my first foray out of the county, and something I had originally planned not to do. But it was so temptingly near – a bare ten minute drive from my girlfriend’s place in Chester in fact – that I would have kicked myself if I had missed out.
The modern redbrick restaurant is located right by the National Canal Boat Museum (scene of many school trips in my youth!), and near the Cheshire Oaks Outlet Village. Arriving on a November Sunday evening it was already dark, and the lights of Stanlow twinkled prettily on the canal outside. Inside it was warm however, with dark wood African tribal carvings (some of which were for sale), animal print fabrics and some rather nifty indirect light fittings. We had pre-booked a table for six – myself, Rebecca, her sister and brother-in-law, and a real life tame South African friend of mine called Margaret and her husband Chris.
The menu is heavy with South African cuisine. Actually, it would be said to be principally Boer cuisine: food of Dutch origin but adapted to make best use of the bounty of the region. Margaret nodded approvingly at the inclusion of
frikkadel meatballs, Durban curry, Cape
bobotie,
potjie, biltong and boerewors sausage. The influence of British settlers – or indeed the indigenous pre-colonial inhabitants – was not incredibly apparent. I had more or less decided what I was going to have (frikkadel, followed by a bobotie casserole) when we asked what the specials were. These turned out to be dishes that I don’t think I could have envisaged trying anywhere else. So that completely changed my decision.
So first, the soup of the day for £2.95. What was the soup of the day? It was mushroom, potato and crocodile. That’s right -
crocodile-infested soup! It was a pale green colour, attractively swirled with cream. If I had not been told it contained crocodile (freshly caught outside in the canal according to the waitress) I would never have guessed. The main taste was of mushroom and potato as one might guess, but there were small bits of meat in there. Had I not known I would have presumed them to be chicken or turkey.
So does crocodile ‘taste like chicken’ (a favourite phrase of mine, taken from Les Hiddens, the Australian ‘Bushtucker Man’ who, no matter what revolting bug he was munching on would utter "Mmm – tastes like chicken!")? Well no – as I found out with my main course. This was the
Game Africa mixed grill – crocodile, ostrich, kudu, and that most South African of creatures the springbok, all served with your choice of sides. I’ll admit now there wasn’t a lot of meat on the plate – just two or three bite-sized pieces of each of the four. But it was a good starter to compare and contrast.
Crocodile was easiest to identify as it was the only white meat. On its own it had a slightly-briney taste – it resembled a pan-fried scallop more than any poultry. And it was a bit of an acquired taste – I’m not sure I’ll be ordering a crocodile steak any time soon.
Kudu, the second largest antelope, was a dark red meat, similar to venison in that respect. It had a quite distinctive flavour, rather like liver. Quite different to that of
springbok, South Africa’s national animal. In fact, I was not entirely sure which meat came from the springbok and which from the ostrich. I suppose I was expecting ostrich to be a white meat like chicken or turkey (or crocodile). Instead it was just as red as the antelope meat, and is hence obviously more like duck in that respect. Both springbok and ostrich meat was very fine-grained, and sweeter than that of the kudu.
Ostrich meat is apparently pretty much the lowest in fat and cholesterol you can buy, even though it has much more of a ‘red meat’ taste than poultry. Certainly something I will look out for again!
To accompany the meat I went for potato wedges (in a southern-style coating obviously). And I also ordered (for £1.50) a pot of that most peculiarly South African condiment
monkey gland sauce. To make it yourself, first, take your monkey… Or not. I think that maybe monkeys and glands are possibly the only ingredients the sauce does not contain. It seems, as explained to us by the waitress, to be composed of the left over dregs of practically any and all bottles and jars you might have in your kitchen – ketchup, soy sauce, Worcester sauce, red wine, port, fruit chutney, ginger, onion and garlic. The end result is a fruity brown sauce, quite sweet-and-sour on the palate. To be honest I didn’t need it. Trying four exotic meats for the first time I didn’t want to drown out their flavours, and the potato wedges had enough seasoning of their own. Still, a nice thing to investigate!
To drink with my meal I was on beer rather than wine. The only South African beer I had ever drunk before was castle; this did not seem to be available on this visit however. Instead, when the waitress reeled off a list of available brews in her South African accent I decided I would have the beer called ‘Vinduk’. This was a mis-hearing on my part though: It was actually called
Winhoek. And it came from Namibia rather than South Africa. Due to the German legacy in Namibia (formerly ‘German South-West Africa’) it was a clean crisp-tasting lager. When I fancied a second drink I thought I’d best choose a different (hopefully South African) beer. So I went for a Tafel Lager… which again proved to be a product of Namibian Breweries Ltd. Can I claim that country too do you reckon…?
I would have been happy with all this as my meal. But Margaret was prodding for pudding. And indeed the chilled cake display did look very appetizing. So at her insistance (okay, maybe not
that much persuasion was required…) I too ordered dessert. We both had a slice of
melktert - or ‘milk tart’. This was a pastry base with a sweet creamy filling, made out of (I think) condensed milk. I think Margaret enjoyed it more than I did.
If you are looking for something a bit out of the usual, then I think Jabula is the place for you. It’s certainly somewhere to impress your (non-vegetarian) friends. I would pre-book before you make the journey though – I can guarantee it’ll get busy during the World Cup next year! Oh, and while you are on the phone, tell them it’s your birthday…
Close