 |
| Yellow Tail, a fine Civiche Fish thats not endangered. Mans |
Roundabout the mid nineties a bunch of climbing mates from
South Africa and I spent a few months running around like ‘crazy men’ in the
mountains of Peru. Luckily we all survived. After our Andes’ adventures I went
surfing on the Pacific coast and this is when I tried civeche for the first
time, (not to mention another Peruvian delicacy, but that’s a whole other
storey and not for everybody).
Very soon civeche was my stock surfing lunch, perfect before an
afternoon session. It’s summery, light and very moreish.
 |
| Adam and I in Peru during 'The Japanese Revolution'. Adam |
These adventures took place at about the time when ‘The
Japanese Revolution’ of cell phones and sushi, was just starting to infiltrate
into our western society. Very few middle class South Africans had cell phones,
and they also weren’t all that keen on chomping raw fish.
Not long after my South American adventures, I returned to
Cape Town, and I prepared my first civeche dish for my cellphone-less, and less
trendy friends. This is one of those ‘crazy men’, my friend Adam’s account of
‘that infamous ceviche occasion.’
Ceviche with
Charlo 1997
“Ja, he said leaning
back in his chair (sounding like Oom Schalk Lourens himself), I remember that
evening quite well. Of course, you have to understand some of the context for
such an evening – it was the nineties and culinary adventure was still new to
Cape Town. More importantly Charlo’s friends were just emerging from the penury
of misspent youth and none of it had been spent on extravagances like sushi. In
short neither his friends nor any of their less adventurous partners had ever
contemplated eating fish in any state but cooked.
So Charlo invited
all his friends to his little 2 bed flat and we all stood around with nowhere
to sit and there was one hell of a hullabaloo. You see Charlo’s friends are
also Charlo’s friends’ friends, if you understand what I mean and we were
having a grand old time and you could hardly hear the next man for the noise.
Now we were all here
for this thing called Ceviche, but I think none of us knew what this was but
Charlo was very excited to share with us this taste of his travels in South
America. So at some point almost inaudible from the kitchen he shouted that we
must now come to get a bowl and an equally excited jostling queue developed
though there wasn’t really space to queue. We each were given a dish with
perhaps three to five, in Afrikaans they would say stukke of raw white fish. On
closer inspection these resolved themselves into chunks of coarsely hacked
hake, drifting rather forlornly in a thin sea of lemon juice. We returned to
where we’d been standing and a general air of ‘what do we do now’ settled upon
the place. It was like that silence that typically follows the serving of food
to a large and hungry crowd. The silence of content ruminants masticating. Only
this silence was somehow deeper, more tangible as silence. And I soon realised
that it was because there wasn’t the usual percussion of clattering cutlery. It
was indeed. Silence. For myself I chased the raw gobs of fish quietly with my
finger and wondered where I could put the bowl without being noticed. The
silence lasted what can be described as an uncomfortably long time.
At last someone came
to our rescue. ‘Mmmm delicious!’ they said in a voice so clear and loud and
full of culinary authority that it made you almost want to try to eat the fish
yourself. And at that we commenced to laugh and get back to our conversations
from before the ceviche was served and we put down our bowls if we could find a
space somewhere for them.
Ja, that was a
really funny evening now I remember it, especially funny because that voice
came from out of the kitchen.”
Storey by Adam Roff (Shot Man)
 |
| Civiche, it's yummy, but not for everybody. Mans |
Wot You Need
- A generous chunk of firm fish, enough for 4-6 people (make
sure it’s not endangered)
- 1½ cups of lime or lemon juice or both (limes are
traditionally used, but I have a lemon tree, so lemons it is for me)
- A heaped tsp of finely chopped garlic
- A heaped tsp of finely chopped ginger (I use a bit more)
- About a tsp of finely chopped chillies (add less or more
depending on their hotness)
- A heaped tsp of sugar
- A liberal glug of water
- A tsp of English mustard or wasabi
- About ½ a red onion, very finely sliced
- A handful of roughly chopped fresh coriander
- A sprinkle of olive oil
- Salt to taste
Wot To Do
 |
| 'Ja, that one.' Mans |
Into your serving platter, put all your ingredients expect
the fish, coriander and red onions. Slice your fish into delicate bite sizes
and place in the juice, the fish should be swimming in it, (coz thatz wot a
fish likes to do). Now pop the platter in the fridge, so the fish can steep in
that yummyness. The longer it steeps for, the more ‘cooked’ it’ll be. I like
mine a little raw in the middle, but thatz not for everyone. To add the
finishing touches scatter the red onions and coriander over the dish. Finally
sprinkle with a little olive oil to create beautiful little golden pearls.
Serve chilled with chunks of bread to mop up the delish juice.
