Atchar: Kasi’s Spicy Sidekick

Atchar sold at a spaza shop in Soweto Township

Let’s be honest: no kota, no bunny chow, no pap-and-wors plate is truly complete without that tangy, spicy, “make-you-sweat-but-come-back-for-more” sidekick atchar.

And no, we’re not talking about the boujie Woolies jars with delicate labels and words like “infused” or “organic.” We’re talking about real kasi atchar: the type that stains your fingers red, makes you reach for a Stoney ginger beer, and has you whispering, “Bathong, pass me the Eno,” ten minutes later.

What Is Atchar, Anyway?

Atchar is South Africa’s answer to the pickle (but its mangoes): louder, hotter, and unapologetically bold. It’s usually made with mangoes only, but you’ll also find carrot, green bean, or mixed veggie versions depending on the cook. What makes it special is the spice mix: chili, turmeric, garlic, and mustard seeds, all swimming in oil until they merge into that iconic fiery punch.

It’s the flavor bomb that cuts through heavy kasi meals and gives life to bread, kota, vetkoek, or even a sad fridge sandwich. Basically, atchar is the kasi way of saying: “You thought you were full? Haibo, here’s some spice.”

A Little History: How Spices Came to Mzansi

The story of atchar isn’t just township hustle, it’s global history on a plate. Spices came to South Africa with Indian indentured laborers who arrived in the 1800s, many settling in Durban. With them came chilies, turmeric, mustard seeds, and the genius idea of preserving fruits and veggies in oil. That Indian influence fused with African flavors, creating the Durban curry scene we know today, and giving birth to atchar as we love it in kasi culture.

Durban is still the spice capital of South Africa, walk through the markets and you’ll smell masala blends strong enough to clear sinuses you didn’t even know were blocked. From there, spice culture spread across townships, and atchar became the essential condiment for kasi food lovers.

DID YOU KNOW: Durban is often called the “largest Indian city outside India” it has the highest concentration of people of Indian descent in any city outside the Indian subcontinent.

Kasi Food + Atchar = A Marriage Made in Heaven

Kasi food is bold, fatty, spicy, and soul-filling. Think kota stuffed with chips and polony, or Sunday plates with chakalaka and beef stew swimming in gravy. All that richness? It needs something with acidity, heat, and kick to balance it out. That’s where atchar comes in, like a referee with chili gloves.

It’s so much a part of township food culture that corner tuckshops keep jars ready, aunties sell homemade batches in ice-cream containers, and everyone has That One Person they claim makes “the best atchar in the kasi.”

Recipe: Kasi Mango Atchar

Here’s a no-fuss, finger-staining, Eno-demanding atchar recipe:

Ingredients:

• 6 unripe green mangoes (peeled, sliced into strips)

• 2 tbsp salt

• 2 tbsp crushed garlic

• 2 tbsp chili powder (adjust if you’re brave)

• 1 tbsp turmeric

• 1 tbsp mustard seeds

• 1 cup cooking oil (sunflower works best)

• Optional: 2 green chilies, chopped for extra heat

Method:

1. Toss mango strips with salt and let them sit overnight—this pulls out excess water.

2. Heat oil in a pan, then add mustard seeds until they pop (don’t burn the house down).

3. Add garlic, turmeric, and chili powder. Stir for 30 seconds.

4. Add mango strips and coat them in the spicy oil mix.

5. Bottle in a sterilized jar and let it sit for a few days to absorb all the flavor.

6. Enjoy… but remember: keep Eno in stock.

Atchar isn’t just food, it’s heritage in a jar. From Indian spice routes to Durban markets to Soweto tuckshops, it’s traveled, transformed, and claimed its rightful place next to every South African’s plate.

And if you don’t like atchar? Sorry, fam. You’re missing out on one of the most kasi things about kasi food.

Want to taste the history, spice, and kasi food culture for yourself?

Book one of our food tours at book@braambybike.africa and come learn (and taste) more.