I’ve started the month of June with a mission to shake some of the post-baby fat that’s settling all too comfortably on places it wasn’t before. Winter has never been a dieting season in my books, but I decided to reconsider when I learnt about the new high fat, low carb eating craze that’s taking South Africa by storm. How difficult can it be if you are encouraged to cook generously with real butter and bacon fat, eat as many eggs as you want and when it’s compulsory to eat the fat left on a lamb chop? That sounds just up my alley! But then comes the sting in the tail… no more rusks with morning coffee; no more rustling up a quick pasta on nights when I don’t know what to cook; no more shared bowls of ice cream in front of the TV with my love. A big sacrifice I think, which is why it’s taken me a while to get my head around it. Most people I’ve seen who’ve tried it are very impressed with the results so it’s worth a go. I’ve made peace with the fact that I’ll be in this alone. How could I possibly ask Quentin to give up sugar in his tea and coffee, bread, ice cream, cheese cake and more? Most of all, it would be sacrilege to deprive a farm boy of his rusks!
And so I faced the ultimate challenge this weekend of baking a batch of buttermilk rusks knowing that none of them will pass my lips (except the tiniest crumb to check the result!) I’ve been experimenting with recipes to improve on the Amasi rusks that Malefah usually bakes (see Malefah’s rusks) after I noticed a large number of referrals to this blog are via searches for buttermilk rusks recipes. This recipe is from a book I was given recently after we spent a very special family weekend at a place called Halfaampieskraal in the Overberg. The food at Halfaampies is legendary – generous, delicious and made with love. As with most boerekos (traditional Afrikaans food) very little about it suits a diet. The cookbook, Halfaampieskraal Celebrates, is full of their signature dishes most of which are off limits to me now. Still, I can extract an immense amount of joy paging through the recipes and remembering how good a few of them tasted during the long, lazy and luscious meals we enjoyed on the stoep and in their ornate dining room.
This recipe for buttermilk rusks has far more butter than other recipes I’ve used. It makes them beautifully rich and quite crumbly. The trick is to cream the butter and sugar together very well before mixing with the dry ingredients. If I do them again I might try to add a bit more buttermilk, because my mixture didn’t look as wet as in the pictures. They are quite perfect as is though. As rusks go, this one definitely suits the high fat part of my diet with the 1kg of butter used, but alas, the rest of the ingredients are a no go. My love is enjoying them though, which is the most important thing!
Halfaampieskraal Buttermilk Rusks (beskuit)
1kg butter, softened
3 cups sugar
1.5kg self-raising flour
1.5 teaspoons baking powder
1.5 teaspoons salt
Preheat the oven to 180 degrees C. Whisk the softened butter and sugar together with an electric beater until pale and light. Add the eggs, beat until blended and then slowly add the buttermilk. Sift the dry ingredients and mix them well into the buttermilk mixture using a wooden spoon. The dough must be sticky and dense. Line a large, deep baking tin with baking paper. Spoon in the mixture with a greased dessertspoon so that the balls of dough touch each other (feel free to use your hands!)
Bake for an hour until golden brown (my oven always burns the top if I don’t watch carefully!). Leave the tin to cool on a rack. When completely cool, break the rusks apart along the markings that are still visible on them. Then use a fork to break them in half across the width (I struggle to break them into equal bits!) Place the rusks on a baking tray, crust side down, and leave in the oven overnight on the coolest setting (50-100 degrees) with the door slightly ajar.
Store in an airtight container and enjoy dunked in morning tea or coffee!
Recipe from Halfaampieskraal Celebrates – a visual feast of food, friendship and festivities on a South African farm (Maia du Plessis & Simon Scarboro).