How We Make Our Biltong

There’s no secret to good biltong. The ingredients are simple, the method is old, and the only thing that actually matters is not cutting corners on time.

Here’s exactly how we make ours.

It starts with the cut

We use silverside and topside — lean, tight-grained beef that holds up well to the drying process and slices cleanly once it’s done. The cut matters more than most people realise. Too much connective tissue and the dried result gets stringy. Too much fat and it can go rancid before it’s fully dry.

We trim the fat down to a thin cap on one side. Enough to add flavour during drying. Not so much that it creates problems.

The meat gets cut into thick strips — usually around 2–3cm across. Thicker than you’d expect. They lose a significant amount of weight during drying, so what looks oversized raw comes out about right.

The vinegar soak

Every strip goes into brown vinegar first.

This step does two things. The acidity tenderises the meat slightly, and it lowers the surface pH — which creates an environment that’s hostile to the bacteria you don’t want. It’s the same principle as pickling. It’s been used to preserve meat long before refrigeration existed.

We use brown vinegar — the traditional choice. Some recipes use apple cider vinegar or red wine vinegar, which are fine, but brown vinegar has the right sharpness for classic biltong flavour.

The strips sit in the vinegar for about an hour. No longer — you don’t want to cook the surface with acid.

The spice rub

This is the part that varies most between makers. Ours is close to the classic.

Coarse salt — drawn on generously. It draws moisture out of the meat and seasons it all the way through during drying.
Toasted coriander seeds — cracked, not ground fine. This is the non-negotiable one. Coriander is to biltong what hops are to beer. If yours doesn’t smell of coriander, something’s wrong.
Coarsely ground black pepper — a good amount of it.

The strips get pressed into the spice mix on all sides. You want coverage, not a coating. The spices should be in the meat, not sitting on top of it.

Some batches we add garlic powder or a touch of chilli. But the base is always those three.

Hanging

The spiced strips go up on hooks in the drying box — hung so air can move freely around every surface. This is critical. Any strip touching another strip or the wall of the box will dry unevenly and risk mould on the contact point.

We use a purpose-built drying box with a fan for airflow and sensors monitoring temperature and humidity. The ideal conditions are around 20–24°C with humidity between 50–65%. Too humid and it won’t dry properly — a real problem in a UK winter. Too hot and you’re effectively cooking it, which changes the texture entirely.

The strips hang for four to five days depending on thickness and target dryness.

Wet vs dry

We check the batch daily.

The first strips come off early — wet biltong. Still dark pink in the centre, a lot of give when you press it, texture closer to a dense steak than a snack. This is the version that ruins you for everything else. The flavour is fuller. It only lasts a few days at room temperature, which is why you almost never see it in shops.

The rest stay up longer. Full dry biltong is firm all the way through, deep brown, and snaps cleanly. Concentrated flavour. Longer shelf life. This is what we package.

What you end up with

A 1kg piece of raw silverside becomes roughly 500–600g of finished biltong. The weight loss is almost entirely water — which is why the protein density is so high. You’re getting the nutritional content of the original meat in roughly half the physical volume.

No additives. Nothing added to extend shelf life beyond what the curing process already provides. The vinegar, salt, and drying are the preservation method — they’ve been working for a few hundred years.

That’s the whole process. Simple ingredients, traditional method, time. Kured is that — made in the UK, without shortcuts.