What brought me to talk about boerewors was a strange experience in a supermarket on Saturday.
I was at Checkers, buying several packs of boerewors from the meat counter. I left with my handbasket noticeably heavier, coils of wors proudly on display, when someone I know greeted me. She peered into my basket and said, “Oh, I don’t like that stuff in there. I don’t eat boerewors.”
Anyway, I let it drop. A bit of chit-chat, a polite cheerio, and off we went.
But honestly — can you believe it? Commenting on someone else’s food basket. It’s like seeing somebody carrying pig trotters and feeling the urge to pass judgement. You just don’t do it. Especially if it’s someone you barely know.
Later, when I told the story to Larry Mussleman, he chuckled. With a big grin on his face, the first thing he asked was,
“Was she a silver fox?”
I said, “Hardly.”
Larry waved it off.
“Leave these old ladies alone. You know what they’re like. What do you expect from a Limey or a Pom? They’re different.”
And that got me thinking.
People come to this country, live off the lap of the land — milk and honey and plenty of boerewors — yet they carry their liminess or pominness with them and won’t deem it fit to indulge in the local cuisine.
Of course, some people genuinely don’t enjoy boerewors. Fair enough. But we’re talking about the minority here.
Around the same time, I saw a TikTok by a young Chinese guy from South Africa who’s now living in Canada. He was trying boerewors he bought from a Canadian store. Remember, South Africa has a substantial Chinese community, particularly in Johannesburg and Port Elizabeth in the Eastern Cape.
Anyway, he said the boerewors wasn’t nearly as good as what you get back home. It just didn’t meet the standard.
I could practically hear Willie Coetsuur in my head saying, “Ag man, why you worried about some Limey? If they don’t like boerewors, forget it. Tonight we’re frying boerewors. Tomorrow my wife will make fried boerewors on pap with some sous.”
And that’s the thing.
Boerewors has absolutely taken off in recent years. Walk into Food Lover’s Market and you’ll see boerewors named after rugby players, crowding out poor old Jan Braai. Pick n Pay has Springbok boerewors. There are endless varieties now.
The boerewors I bought that day was from Checkers — called Dorslander. A fantastic name, steeped in Afrikaans history. And I must say, it’s very tasty.
Then there’s the Saturday-morning tradition. Thousands of supermarkets across South Africa selling boerewors rolls: fried onions at the bottom, boerewors on top, and whatever sauce you fancy.
Boerewors is comfort food.
Boerewors is national food.
Boerewors cuts across culture in South Africa.
And if you look at it closely, it really does belong to everyone.
Afrikaans-speaking South Africans may claim boerewors as their heritage hero — and per capita, they probably eat the most of it. Family braais, rugby weekends, Heritage Day: boerewors is ritual food.
English-speaking South Africans embrace it too, perhaps a little less reverently, often alongside burgers or peri-peri chicken, but it’s still a firm favourite at any social braai.
Black South Africans, simply by sheer numbers, are the biggest consumers overall. From township shisa nyamas to family gatherings, boerewors paired with pap, chakalaka, or morogo is standard fare. In volume alone, they lead the pack.
Other communities — Portuguese, Chinese, and others — blend it into their own food cultures in different ways. Maybe not daily, but enthusiastically enough to prove the point.
Boerewors isn’t about divisions. It’s one of the few foods that genuinely unites South Africans.
The Market in 2026
And the numbers back it up.
Boerewors sales in South Africa continue to grow in 2026, even under pressure from inflation and tighter household budgets. The market has split: while the traditional braai basket has become more expensive, boerewors remains dominant because it’s still more affordable than premium cuts of meat.
The processed meat sector — which includes boerewors — is growing steadily, with particular momentum in artisanal and gourmet varieties. Small producers offering preservative-free, high-quality wors are flourishing.
Prices have gone up, yes, but not as sharply as steak or stewing beef. That makes boerewors the “survival meat” for many middle-class families who want to keep the braai tradition alive.
Add to that:
• Ready-to-braai convenience ranges
• Online butcheries and grocery apps
• Growing international demand driven by the South African diaspora
And it becomes clear: boerewors isn’t going anywhere.
In fact, it’s thriving.
So whether you’re frying it, braaing it, sticking it in a roll, or serving it on pap with sous — if you’re in South Africa, chances are boerewors is already part of your story.
And if you don’t like it?
Well… more for the rest of us.
