Never is a jammer lappie more called for than when everyone dives into a plate piled high with ribs, fastest fingers first. A jammer lappie, for the uninitiated, means literally “sorry cloth”, a damp tea towel or similar passed around for people to wipe their hands (and faces) on while eating messy meaty things without the nicety of a knife and fork.

Few South African meat eaters are going to argue with the claim that sticky ribs are a national favourite for the braai, shisa nyama or at your local steak ranch. It’s food for putting a bib on, ignoring the knives and forks, and not making any apology for the mess that is slowly spreading across your face.

I am not a fan of the ubiquitous “steakhouse sauce” which you can buy these days in big plastic bottles from trade stores; it’s a tradition that emerged from the popularity of monkey gland sauce in decades gone by and evolved (or devolved) into that ubiquitous sticky gloop. It gets brushed onto steaks and ribs at a thousand steakhouses throughout the country. If your ribs and steaks all taste the same at every place you order them, that’s most likely what you’re getting. They don’t taste of anything in particular; they taste of sweet, sour and brown. The idea of it is still sound; it’s just the recipe that has deteriorated into an unidentifiable melange of who-knows-what; the kind of sauce you get when it’s designed by a committee.

With friends coming over for a braai supper the other day, I spent the afternoon slow-cooking a whole lamb rib in the oven, then left it to cool until we were ready for me to finish it on very hot coals. They were already fall-apart tender but not so much so that they might disintegrate while crisping them on the coals. That’s the trick.

Whatever your choice of liquid flavourings (such as rine wine, vinegar, honey, molasses, soy sauce etc), you need a carrier stock. Many recipes call for chicken stock, but because I used red meat (rather than pork) I chose to use beef stock. Don’t be too shy with the quantities either. Ribs are not about subtlety, although for my taste resorting to the ubiquitous shop-bought steakhouse sauce is a bridge too far. But I may have already mentioned that.

Ingredients

1 whole rib of either pork (spare rib or baby back), lamb or mutton

2 cups beef stock

½ cup brown rice vinegar

½ cup sweet chilli sauce

3 Tbsp hoisin sauce

3 fat garlic cloves, finely chopped

1 tsp ground ginger or a 2 cm piece of fresh ginger, peeled and finely chopped

Salt and pepper to taste

Method

Preheat the oven to 220℃.

The bones of the rib should be cut through but held together with meat and fat.

Combine all ingredients except the rib in a suitable deep oven dish. Season both sides of the rib with salt and black pepper. Immerse the rib in the dish and make sure it is as well covered with the cooking stock as possible.

Put it in the oven for 20 minutes at 220℃ then turn it down to 160℃ or 170℃ and leave it to cook for about 2 hours or until the meat is very tender. Baste the rib every half hour or so, turning it over as well.

Leave it out of the oven, covered, until you’re ready to crisp it on the braai. Don’t forget to turn the oven off.

Braai just until the fat is beautifully crisp, basting with any remaining marinade. Turn it a couple of times. Go on, have a beer. Nothing could match the moment better. DM/TGIFood

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