Strike while it's hot

The beautiful Distraction successfully wooed the Bandit - who had been dispatched to her home "on appro" by friends - with a Sunday sunset boerie roll braaied over the glowing coals of a fire set by her fair hand.

Quite understandably the meal was hardly the meat of the matter, and the Bandit has only a faint recollection of the boerewors beyond it having been ever so slightly overcooked and that it was served, piping hot, in a crisp, generously buttered continental roll.

Simply unsurpassable.

But who knows what might never have transpired had it been served on one of those bappy, spookasem rolls that are the standard.

So it is not without prejudice that the Bandit hits the trail in search of the best boerie roll in Johannesburg and its north of the Jukskei neighbour, which was sneeringly proclaimed by rock 'n roll lurcher James Phillips as "die grootste Afrikaanse stad in die Suiderlikehalfrond" in his wry, mirth-filled parody Snor City.

Tshwane first. Groenkloof Slaghuis/Butchery at Groenkloof Centre, the owner of which, Eddie van Niekerk, is widely proclaimed as the region's boerewors champion, and where the addition of "Butchery" to the name would seem an afterthought.

Saturday mid-morning and the gas-fired boerie roll stand outside the slaghuis is cooking; the air redolent of the seductive, viscerally primal aroma of braaied meat.

So seduced by the smell is the Bandit that the primary yardstick of a good boerie roll - that the boerie is hurried straight from the fire into the embrace of a fresh roll - is overlooked.

Instead, the crew's order is assembled with sweaty boerewors way beyond its use-by moment that is being stored in the ubiquitous aluminium Hart roasting casserole.

Fried onions for the Bandit, a watery smoortjie - literally a loving smothering of onion and tomato - for the Distraction.

The crew is thoroughly underwhelmed. The monotonously granular boerie is cold. And so, too, are the onions and the smoortjie, both of which are overwhelmed by the MSG-laden boerewors.

Fearing that heat alone is to answer for the disappointment, the Bandit buys a coiled kilogram of the boerewors to test at home.

Sunday sunset and the pallid coil of boerewors - the colour a disturbing reminder of Uncle Fester's complexion in the Addams Family - is carefully set over the glowing coals by the Distraction.

Three turns and the boerewors is perfectly cooked. Seconds later the Bandit is presented with a boerie roll dressed with an excellent smoortjie made after referencing man of letters, doctor and gourmand C Louis Leipoldt's definitive directives on the matter.

The boerewors is better hot, but not even the Distraction's fair hand can rescue it from the dominant throat-cloying after-tang of chemicals pretending to be spices.

The smoortjie, though, is excellent.

THE SCORE:

Appearance: *

Texture: ** Taste: **

Damage: Undone by the Bandit's smoortjie

Groenkloof Slaghuis/(Butchery if you insist)