Award-winning British chef Charlie Lakin went to a South African market with Niren Tolsi and was moooved by some unusual cuts of meat "I've never really felt squeamish like this before in my life," says chef Charlie Lakin as he gingerly takes in the flurry of activity at the Bovine Head Market in downtown Durban.It's mid-morning on a Friday and a woman is peeling the face off a large cow's head - revealing bits of white fat and red flesh. Another is bludgeoning a cow's skinned bottom jaw, attempting to shatter the bone down the middle of its skull with the blunt end of an axe.There is a pile of decapitated heads in one corner, waiting with glassy-eyed patience for their turn at the skinning, cleaving and hacking as flies buzz around them. Tables groan under piles of steaming dombolo, slabs of cow head are boiled in metal drums over wood fires and the clacking of knives being sharpened provides the soundtrack for commuters settling down to the Zulu delicacy of slow-cooked cow head and quarts of beer.story_article_left1After prodding while chatting to the sellers, Lakin, the head chef at Durban's Ninth Avenue Bistro, is in his element. His innate culinary adventurism replaces that initial sense of being overwhelmed by the sights and sounds of the market. This is, after all, someone who admits to butchering a 185kg sow in a day-and-a-half.He grins from ear to ear as we sit at a concrete bench and table. "Fergus Henderson has nowt on this," he says, referring to one of the High Chefs of cooking offal and author of Nose to Tail Eating: A Kind of British Cooking. "This is sheer, unpretentious food," beams Lakin.Babhekile Khuzwayo, who has kept her stall at the market for more than 20 years, plonks a wooden board with a hunk of cow head, slow-cooked, onto the table. A pile of salt and chillies are the only condiments. A long, sharp knife the only cutlery.The chunk of meat runs from the temple, along the cheek, down to a nostril. Rich lines of dark meat interchange with gelatinous yellow-white sections. The nostril flares and quivers. Last night's whisky does a somersault in my belly."This is proper. That cheek is smiling at us," Lakin jokes as he moves in with a knife and fingers, heading, with surgical precision, straight for the thyroid glands. Lakin groans in pleasure after necking the larva-like pieces of sweetbreads. He coos about "the gelatinous, oozy bits" and then scrapes at the meat around the temple, which falls away without resistance. The meat is heart-stopping in its richness."Cooking is about placing your menu in its locality, using fresh, locally produced ingredients and incorporating the traditional and cultural aspects of food from the area in which you are cooking," says the Yorkshire-born Lakin, enthusing over the simple presentation aesthetics of the head platter we are devouring."In England, we have regional cooking and British menus but there are many different styles of cooking here in Durban. Durban has quite a sweet taste associated with it," he says of the city's Zulu, Indian and European gastronomic heritage.In an earlier interview, Lakin said he was working on a samp-and-beans risotto with a beetroot purée. N ow he seems close to perfecting a madumbi dish with an egg yolk cooked for three hours, crispy chicken skins and chilli cooked in chicken fat, ginger and lime purée.story_article_right2Lakin moved to Durban more than a year ago with his South African wife and their two daughters. The former head chef at Kent's The Marquis at Alkham won three AA rosettes for the restaurant and was twice named a rising Michelin star.An inveterate forager - he spends 30 minutes every morning raiding local verges and parks for dandelions and other petals and leaves - and lover of offal, word soon spread around Durban's foodie set that Lakin's 10-course chef's tasting menu, made with "all the stuff you throw away", was essential eating.The tasting menu changes daily, depending on what ingredients are in season, what Lakin has foraged and what is about to be chucked out. On a recent visit to Ninth Avenue Bistro, the globe artichoke with purple beans, goat's-milk cheese, dandelions and duck sweetbreads stood out, as did the kabeljou tongue served with chicken wing, sweetcorn, aubergine, sour fig, Durban curry sauce, yoghurt and crisp rice. A rabbit kidney on rosemary vine amuse bouche was rich and heavenly while a fennel tarte tatin with pickled pear and gorgonzola ice cream had the inside of one's mouth making sweet love to itself."It's a fine balance," says Lakin of the menu. "You want to push the boundaries but you still want people to relate to the food without shocking them too much. Sometimes people think you're being cheap because of the cuts you are using, but there are still hours and days of preparation."Lakin attributes his love for offal and foraging to growing up on a farm in rural Yorkshire. He spent his childhood picking blueberries, brambles and pineapple weed for chutneys, pickles and preserves, which he learnt to make from his mother.Butchering he learnt from his father, a relief herdsman. "Nothing goes to waste: tongues, lungs, heart. I love butchering. It's a magical thing. It keeps you in touch with your surroundings and makes you respect the animal you are working with."Foraging and head-to-tail cooking have become popular in South African restaurants . And in homes too, especially as rising prices cause people to use cheaper cuts of meat.But, before the hipster-cool of eating intestines, head-to-toe eating has long been appreciated by the working class: from the cow's liver, which is the sole preserve of Zulu men at traditional ceremonies, to a dry-braised sheep-head curry, popular in some Indian households. It is rich, sumptuous and enough to stop the heart.TASTE FOR YOURSELFNinth Avenue Bistro: 2 Avonmore Centre, 9th Avenue, Durban, 031-312-9134The Bovine Head Market: Warwick Junction, adjacent to the Early Morning Market. Guided tours: 073-515-1308 (minimum seven people per group)..