Toast Coetzer's Camping Food Stories
This week it is Toast Coetzer’s turn to share his camping food secrets with us. Toast is no novice when it comes to camping. Being the travel editor of the Go! magazine, he has walked all the corners of Africa, especially South Africa. His secret is straightforward – simplicity. But let him do the talking ...
As a travel journalist, it is my privilege to be on the road quite often. I prefer travelling alone, and to pitch camp when weather permits. Sometimes I would stay over in a guesthouse and rather enjoy the breakfast that is served. Occasionally I even stay at a lodge, get extravagant at dinner and order steak and a glass of wine.
But the allowance I receive at Go! for these trips makes steak and wine the exception rather than the rule. Most of the time it is only me, my Cadac and whatever food is in my crate. When I travel like that – for work and not for holiday (there’s a big difference!) – cooking is not a social event. I work until dark, take pictures of a sunset, have a short interview with another camper, or maybe look for a lifer for my birding list.
I like camping, but I don’t like the fuss. I therefore travel with the minimum food and equipment. I call it the two-crate system. That which can’t fit into two crates, stays behind. My tent is small, light and quick to set up. My camping chair is my largest and often my only piece of furniture. All my cutlery fits into an empty ice cream container. My grater is the size of a keyring. Therefore, when it comes to cooking, I am not ashamed to eat instant noodles if I have to.
I don’t have a favourite camping food recipe, because nothing I prepare requires a recipe. An opened tin of sardines with added salt is fit for a king – just like that, eaten from the tin. I don’t even need a fork; I scoop it up with a provita.
If I want to spoil myself, I make a stir-fry. Somewhere along the way, I might have bought an onion, tomatoes or green pepper and even some ginger. With a bit of luck I might have salami with me. Chop everything, fry it in the pan on the Cadac and dinner is ready.
I always admire my fellow campers who make such an effort with their meals. Sometimes they spend hours fiddling with a potjie. Or they are forever chopping about twenty different ingredients that they divide among seven different potjies, like a real Master Chef.
After the initial quick hello, typical campers always glance out of the corner of their eye, to check what the neighbours are doing. What are they preparing? We all are a bit curious.
I always admire my fellow campers who make such an effort with their meals. Sometimes they spend hours fiddling with a potjie. Or they are forever chopping about twenty different ingredients that they divide among seven different potjies, like a real Master Chef.
After the initial quick hello, typical campers always glance out of the corner of their eye, to check what the neighbours are doing. What are they preparing? We all are a bit curious.
One day I actually felt a bit bad for my neighbours’ sake. I have travelled about 400 km that day to a camp somewhere in Botswana. I was in a hurry to get home, and only arrived at the camp at dusk. My neighbours – an elderly couple with a neat camper and apparently all the gadgets you might need – were still busy with about three potjies, on or next to the fire. They battled with their rooftop tent that was not exactly level, and in between, they tried to spray their ankles with Peaceful Sleep. From the corner of my eye, I could see they were very busy.
And me? I stopped, with the one hand unzipped my tent bag, and with the other I got the Cadac started. I pitched the tent and prepared a pot full of popcorn. Within minutes after arriving, I was relaxing in my camping chair, eating my “dinner”. In the meantime, my neighbours were still searching for a corkscrew to open that special bottle of wine they brought all the way from the Cape ...
Toast Coetzer
Travel editor, Go! magazine