There is food that you can never make at home. It’s that kind of take-away, eat-while-you’re-standing-up-trying-not-to-get-bits-of-bratwurst-on-your-new-jacket type stuff you’ll mostly find at Farmer’s Markets, Music Festivals or imitation German Beerfests (which is where I was). The reason you’ll never be able to make it at home, is because to make a steakroll, some red-faced Austrian dude has been turning a spit rammed up the backside of a cow over a sawn-off 50-gallon drum filled with coals, basting it for the last 5 hours with a secret sauce made from the blood of infidels whispered with a dying breath to his great-great-great-great-grandfather at the height of the Franco-Prussian War while French Cavaliers were attempting to storm the Kastel-Wurmschtammer, then jealously protected and passed on for generations, just so that today he could sell you meat on a bun for R19.95. And you know…as much as wish I had a roasting-spit and a red-faced Austrian handy at all times – it’s just not practical (Austrians take forever in the bathroom). And let me tell you, after a couple of pints of lager (or before or during), the slab of meat that’s going to be yanked off that beast, slapped in a roll, spattered with tomato-sauce and handed to you wrapped in a serviette, is without doubt going to be the best thing you’ve eaten in your life. Well, at least that day. There is no Grand Point to this all, other than maybe eat as much dodgy street-food as you can, because most of it will be amongst the best meals you’ve eaten in your life, and as for the few times where you’ll be struck down with dysentery, consider it a (relatively) small price to pay.