My wife makes the biltong. I make the koeksisters.

We moved to Canada in May.

Today my wife made her first batch of biltong.

I am vegetarian, so I cannot tell you how it tastes. I can tell you it looks right and it smells right, and she and the kids have been feasting on it all afternoon.

I am so impressed with her. We have been struggling to find a decent source of protein for the kids' lunches since we got here. She has just made that ten million times easier.

Then I started wondering what South African speciality I have brought over.

And I remembered.

On our scouting trip in December, a Canadian family invited us to dinner. I went to a lot of trouble and made homemade koeksisters.

They were actually decent. Much better than I expected.

For anyone who did not grow up there: biltong is cured meat that men are strangely proud of, and koeksisters are a sticky plaited doughnut soaked in syrup.

So there it is. We emigrated to Canada. My wife makes the biltong and I make the koeksisters.

This does not reflect well on my masculinity.

I think it might be time to concede that she wears the pants in this relationship.