Meta-read: Sally Andrew reads about the Lazy Lizard deli IN the Lazy Lizard deli in Prince Albert, from the third in the Tannie Maria mystery series. Karina Szczurek, supporting the home team, is inspired to try the Full Monty breakfast.

I recently had the good fortune to be invited to take part in the Prince Albert Leesfees, a delightful book fair in a small Karoo town at the foot of the magnificent Swartberg Range. It’s the back of beyond — a five-hour drive from Cape Town — but well worth the trip.

I drove up with my friend and fellow book-fiend Karina Szczurek, who was showcasing three books, fruits of her new venture, Karavan Press. I was going to read poems and talk about Wise About Waste: 150+ Ways to Help the Planet, my latest book. There was even more interest in the first in the series, 101 Water-wise Ways, and no wonder — the Karoo looked as if it had been scoured with a blow-torch. The drought is deadly serious, and PA residents are on rations of 90 litres per person per day. It was a relief to find all the grey water from my cottage went through a filter for re-use.

Karina and I plotted (in every sense of the word) all the way up the N1. Little did I know I was soon to be drawn into a different plot.

We settled into our borrowed digs for the weekend — a house and a cottage respectively, each cool and tranquil under the burning sun, beautifully but comfortably furnished, and our minds soon turned to the NB matter of What To Eat. Dinner that night was at the superb locavore establishment, The Real Food Company, but the one deli that kept popping up on all the recommended lists was The Lazy Lizard. Also, even my carefully egalitarian hosts gushed about their apple pie. Apple pie? Very nice, but not usually a dish that makes gourmets come over all messianic.

So the next morning, Karina was in search of a Real Brekfis, and she wanted to try the Lazy Lizard’s menu (word had gotten round). We arrived to find none other than Sally Andrew, author of the hugely popular and internationally renown Tannie Maria detective-and-recipe series, drinking coffee at one of the tables. She sprang to her feet to greet us. “I’m so glad to see you!” she cried. “May I read you a passage from my book?”

It turned out that a chapter in the third book in her series, Death on the Limpopo, is set in the Lazy Lizard itself. And we all wanted the gloriously surreal experience of being read to ABOUT the Lazy Lizard IN the Lazy Lizard. And it led to orders, too; Sally had barely gone a page when “The Full Monty” breakfast rolled up for Karina. But when Sally got to the apple pie, I simply had to find out what all the fuss was about, and ordered a piece. The most enormous wedge arrived. “I’ve being trying to get them to give me the recipe, so I can put it in a book,” said Sally. “But they won’t divulge. Please do some sleuthing and see if you can come up with the ingredients.”

The pie of pies.

So, for all Tannie Maria, baking and fruit pie fans, here’s my best effort. First, the pastry is definitely not shortcrust, but a moist flaky pastry with LOTS of butter, and confectioners’ sugar dusted on top. Then, the apples are baked French-style: they’re clearly sliced very thinly and raw when the pie goes in to bake, not pre-cooked. This means they’re as leaved and layered as the pastry, and are meltingly tender without being sloshy. I’d venture that they were Granny Smith apples — definitely not a red variety. Then golden raisins (but not too many); DEFINITELY lemon zest — a lot (and possibly some reconstituted candied peel as well); and finally, the most teasing of all: the spice mix. Cinnamon, obviously; but also a hint of clove and ginger — maybe allspice too? Plus more sugar and butter. That’s the best I can do, Tannie Maria, and if the Lazy Lizard chefs are now snickering up their sleeves, at least I gave it a shot. I now have to read Death on the Limpopo, if only for the happy memories, and also try my pie recipe to see if I can figure out quantities.

There’s a sweet coda to this sweet story: Karina is wearing the same rugby shirt her late husband, Andre Brink, wore when the Boks won the Rugby World Cup in 1995. Was this a teeny tiny factor in the Bok victory later that day? I like to think so. Also: book festivalling in a small town on the same weekend the national rugby team wins the World Cup is a very MERRY experience.

The fabled Prince Albert library quilt.

PS: Thanks to the organisers of the Leesfees — you did a wonderful job and we’re all longing to return.