By now you’ve probably noticed it too. Rusks—those humble, crunchy dunkers that were once an affordable comfort—have become shockingly expensive. Over the past year, the price has crept up and up. R50 and above for a packet of commercial rusks? And don’t even think the homemade ones are cheaper. Some artisanal varieties now start at R80 and climb steeply from there. All that just to dunk a rusk into your morning coffee? It’s enough to make your eyes water—and not just from the heat of the brew.
Let’s be honest, rusks have gone a bit gourmet. And while the idea of a beautifully packaged, handcrafted farm rusk is appealing, something feels off. What happened to the good old days when rusks were baked in bulk by someone’s Ouma or tannie and shared generously?
That said, I must confess there is one homemade rusk that’s unforgettable: the kind made on a farm in Namibia. I once had the chance to watch them being made—golden, fragrant, and full of heart. The aroma in that kitchen? These weren’t just rusks—they were rusks with a soul.
Sadly, I have neither the time nor the talent to bake my own. People tell me it’s simple, but I’m not one for baking. Eating? Absolutely. But making? Not my strong suit.
As for flavours, I’ll admit I’m old-skool. Give me a chunky buttermilk rusk over trendy muesli or gluten-free options any day. I still remember dunking big, rugged aniseed rusks my mother made into hot coffee as a child. They softened just enough to bite through without losing their crunch completely—pure morning magic.
But have you noticed how today’s store-bought rusks feel like they’ve been engineered to break your teeth? I swear some of them are so hard they could double as DIY tools. If you don’t dunk them, you risk a dental emergency.
So what’s behind the price hike? Are we victims of a secret rusk cartel? Maybe not—but the economics are telling. Rusks have become expensive because of rising production costs, inflation, fuel prices, and—as always—a whole host of reasons.
The idea of twice-baked bread goes way back, but in South Africa, the tradition took root with the early Dutch settlers. The Voortrekkers, journeying inland during the 1800s, relied on rusks for sustenance. Dry, durable, and nutritious, they were the perfect travel food.
So yes, rusk prices have gone up, and yes, some of the magic of old-fashioned rusks has been lost to mass production. But the tradition lives on in kitchens across the country—and in every nostalgic dunk.
