In South Africa, fries are called hot chips.
Of all the incredible lessons I learned during my 12 days on a cultural theater exchange in Johannesburg, South Africa, one of the most interesting and lasting is rooted in a common South African culinary staple: hot fries. As I look back on the past two weeks, when the world took my life as its own and turned it completely upside down and turned my perspective upside down, I think about the people I met who participated in sharing their stories with me . On the way home, during my last moments on the continent, I had a lasting connection with a stranger over hot fries, further broadening my perspective on South African culture. Maybe the lesson I learned about the name we give fried potatoes was about more than just potatoes. Perhaps it was about subliminal differences, embedded in our striking similarities. Perhaps it was about the universality of humanity that I had found and recognized in so many people, in so many moments, in so many cracks in the surface of such an incredible country.
The first time I came into contact with hot fries was when I ordered dinner on our very first evening in Johannesburg, jet lagged and under the hot African sun. The waiter asked me if I wanted hot fries or mieliepap, better known as 'porridge'. Mieliepap, I learned, is a type of corn porridge typically served as a side dish to meats and curries, and to my delight, it is gluten-free. But on our first night, before I got to know the culture a bit more, I took the safe route and opted for hot chips, imagining a plate piled high with heated Lay's chips. As you can probably guess, my expectation of hot Lay's chips was not met when my meal was served. Let's blame my misunderstanding on exhaustion.
As my meal was placed in front of me, I noticed that a mixture of ignorance and my American identity was fueling the image I created in my head of hot chips. Hot chips in South Africa are about the same as American fries. However, many differences lie hidden beneath the surface. Not only was this my first meal in Africa, it was also my first realization that I was on the other side of the world, in a country where the culture, dialects and social cues would be completely different from America.
The name "chips" makes historical sense because South Africa was colonized by British rule in the 19th century, and the British call French fries "crisps" and potato chips "crisps". The food of South Africa is an amalgamation of flavors that emerged during waves of colonization and immigration of people of Dutch, Italian, Greek and British descent in the 19th century. Much of the food also has Indonesian, Portuguese and Mozambican influences and the culinary scene has developed into a melting pot of different cultures and traditions. Some popular ingredients and dishes include chicken wings and fried chicken seasoned with piri piri sauce, malva pudding (a sweet apricot pudding), ostrich pie (which I wasn't adventurous enough to try), pumpkin fritters and fish and chips. Fish and chips are a very popular dish in South Africa and throughout the United Kingdom. Nomenclature aside, chips and fries are the same, right? If you had told me before ordering, I would have thought that the deliciously golden, unhealthy slices of baked potato couldn't vary that much from place to place. This is similar to the fact that I never realized that much of our American culture would be very much at odds with South African culture, despite the fact that we have similarities through the English language. It took me traveling all over the world before I came face to face with the realization that even though I think I may understand another country, I can never truly know a reality until I meet it face to face.
In South Africa, hot chips can be compared to American steak fries: a thicker cut potato with a lighter roast and a center that tastes more like a baked potato than fries. Still, they don't quite compare to American steak fries, due to the unique seasonings, the way they are served, and how often you can find them. First of all, hot or "slap" chips (the African name for fries) are usually topped with salt and vinegar, or a dash of Cajun seasoning. Rarely are they found without some form of added flavor. They are much larger and softer than the fries we are used to in the US, lightly fried and fresher in taste. Hot chips can be served with almost any main course and are on every menu I came across during my time in South Africa.
One scenario that comes to mind when I think of hot fries is a failure I experienced at McDonald's. In South Africa, McDonald's not only offers a vegan menu, vegetarian burgers and lime chocolate milkshakes, but also hot fries. I began to realize that no menu in South Africa was quite complete without the "hot chips" listed under the side dishes. The menu still lists our favorite American fried delicacy as "fries," but to my dismay it isActuallytastes like potatoes. I can't put my finger on what American McDonald's fries taste like, but in South Africa, some of them taste... better. McDonald's is widely known for its salty, thin, crispy fries, hidden in the bottom of a white paper bag. But in South Africa, this beloved side dish is thicker and slightly softer, and its flavor reflects the starchy vegetable it comes from.
I spent many of my meals eating piri piri chicken wings and hot fries because, as a tourist who had never been to Johannesburg, I was told to avoid fresh fruit and vegetables that had been washed in water and which might not to vote. with my stomach. For a foodie who had finally become excited by the prospect of trying a new cuisine in South Africa, I was discouraged by the many internet articles and fellow tourists advising me to be careful about what I ate to avoid ruining my week depressed and alone in the hotel. toilet.
That said, I was lucky enough to try traditional South African food a few times during our trip and it is unlike any culinary experience I have ever had in my life. The food is spicy, starchy, dense and centered around spicy meat dishes such as sausage made from beef, pork and lamb and chakalaka – a hot, spicy vegetable sauce served with porridge or curry. One thing I immediately noticed after diving into these new culinary delights is that my stomach processes the food in no time.extremelyAmerican way. The spices used in South African dishes were not flavors I was used to digesting, and despite being voracious to try new dishes, I was confused by the discomfort that followed unfamiliar spices and flavors. After a few days, I fell into a vicious circle of hot fries at every meal because I was afraid to try many culinary delicacies. Fear and confusion often accompany our new experiences abroad. During my time in Johannesburg I pushed myself to be open and vulnerable to all new experiences, keep my mind fresh and clear and try to read everything I could about this sparkling new city. But when it came to culinary culture, this was a more difficult feat. Unfortunately, when I gave up fully experiencing the food culture to avoid unexpected illnesses, I wasn't able to delve into South African cuisine in the way I had hoped.
While at the airport on my way home, I met a British woman from South Africa who moved to Johannesburg from Britain after visiting the country and falling in love with the city and her current husband when she was her age if I. We chatted a bit about the beautiful country and my life-changing experience - she was very fascinated by my visit and what I thought about the city and the country. Somehow we ended up on the topic of hot fries and I told her that I might never see another French fry again after days of tasting hot fries at every restaurant we went to. She immediately wondered why I ate so many fries on my trip to South Africa and seemed almost offended, and I explained the fear that my American stomach would be upset by the water or spices. Not needing raw vegetables, salads and fruits to get my nutrition from, I turned to hot fries because, in addition to their ubiquity, they seemed like South Africa's ultimate diet, and strangely enough, despite the mushy texture and unusual taste. , addictive.
"So you didn't eat any fruit or vegetables while you were here?" she asked me as we boarded the plane.
“No,” I answered honestly. “We were told not to eat them, so I didn't for fear of getting sick.”
I suddenly felt sheepish and embarrassed, as if I was doing the entire country of South Africa a disservice by turning away from their vegetables and towards hot chips.
“Well, that's crazy. Our vegetables here are beautiful. They're fresh and wonderful. I've been to America – you just make your vegetables look extra shiny so they look fresh and special, but they're not. Only "But just because our vegetables aren't perfect on the outside doesn't mean they're any worse," she replied gently. I know she didn't mean to attack me or American culture. Rather, she hoped I to learn a final lesson before boarding the plane back home. In America we let our vegetables look...shiny, more special, more expensive and more elusive, and in South Africa they are simply from the earth. They're exactly right.
So many moments seemed to manifest this way during the trip. In the theater we created, we aimed for something in our hearts, rather than creating something artificial and forced, intended to simply entertain. In the art we saw, we noticed the effort to integrate creative efforts into a surprising truth. In the museums and historical sites we visited, we saw a country reflect on its heartbreaking and disturbing past to build a kinder, forward-looking and always reflective future. This was also the reality of their vegetables: maybe they weren't as shiny as American vegetables, but they didn't try to hide behind a shiny exterior. There is a vulnerability and a reality in every element of Johannesburg.
On our very first evening in Johannesburg, when I had my first hot chip experience, a man who lives in the city came to our table, heard our unusual accents and asked where we were from. This was our first interaction with a stranger from Johannesburg and ensured that the rest of our experience was just as friendly, open and good-hearted. He told us he wanted to visit America and that he liked American accents, which we all laughed about. After some back and forth about why we went to Johannesburg and where we came from (a very cold state in the US near Canada), we say goodbye. Before returning to his friends, he looked at our plates, all littered with piles of half-eaten hot chips.
“Enjoy your hot fries – uh, wait, what do you call them… fries,” he said, laughing. Maybe it's hot chips, and maybe it's french fries, but for me it's not about the potato or the name of it. It's about perception, how our own experience and identity shapes the world around us, and how a hunger for a new place like Johannesburg can truly change our point of view.
