Afton 20 years later

In August of 2002, I first visited  Afton Guesthouse in Johannesburg, SA. The place was recommended by a PH who is no longer in the industry. I was fortunate enough to stay several times during my six weeks and three-country hunt. I was able to harvest all of the Dangerous Seven.

 

Fast forward to April of 2022, some 20 years later. I was fortunate enough to stay again with my wife, daughter, son-in-law, and two clients. What a difference two decades has made.

 

Afton was, in 2002, a warm and welcoming place for someone who had never been on the African Continent before, or an old pro. It featured old, creaky wood floors and skeleton key access for each room. It offered a few curios here and there and had some recommendations for places near to safely have  dinner and cocktails.

 

Today’s Afton is a beautiful blend of those features, but brought into a more modern world. The rooms are really updated while keeping that warm and homey feel. The meals that are now available are nothing short of outstanding, and enjoying a beer or cocktail in the boma area with a fire pit and nearby swimming pool brings this place to a whole new level.

 

The trophy room allows guests to get a close-up look at a wide variety of Southern Africa’s diverse wildlife options, while the sitting room is both warm and comfortable. The entire place displays the incredible artwork of the local people, ranging from wonderfully detailed wood carvings to leather work, and even some beautiful hand-made knives with scrimshawed bone handles, all of which are available for purchase.

 

I truly enjoyed my stay 20 years ago but the new owner/management made my stay now just that much more enjoyable. The other options offered to travelers, even if they do not have the time to stay, are phenomenal. They organize an outstanding meet-and-greet service at the aircraft, which can be incredibly comforting, especially to the first-time Africa traveler. When it comes to assistance with bringing your firearm and getting the license, there simply are no words to describe how smooth they make it.

 

Just a few years ago I traveled with my wife, three daughters, and their husbands/fiancés, none of whom, other than me, had ever been to Africa before. We did not have time to stay in Johannesburg as we were catching a flight up to Victoria Falls before returning to SA for a 10-day hunt. The issue was we had extra luggage for the hunt and firearms, all of which were a problem going up to Zimbabwe. The Afton staff made arrangements for an aircraft meet, walked our group to customs, and met us again on the other side. They then took possession of our firearms and extra luggage and secured them until our return from Zimbabwe, where they again met us at the aircraft, through customs, and then assisted with getting the firearms and luggage checked for the trip down to Cape Town.

 

I cannot begin to find words that describe how fantastic Afton was 20 years ago and surely cannot put into words how it has grown into what I can only call the finest customer, hunter, and service organization in Southern Africa. I will, without question, continue to recommend Afton to all my customers or anyone needing to travel through Johannesburg, SA.

 

Afton is truly the place where “THE SAFARI BEGINS”.

Ron Hugo started A-Fox Hunting consultants. A small family-run booking agency. They book hunting and touring trips worldwide from all of North America to New Zealand and South America but they specialize in African adventures. Ron says, “No other agency will work as hard to get you exactly what you want at the best pricing.”

Campfire Thoughts & Reminiscences Part 6

Written by Neil Harmse

 

Chapter 7. Lion Problems

 

As previously mentioned, during the 1980s the southern Kruger Park boundary was continuously faced with problems caused by lions crossing. into private properties and killing livestock. Once these nomadic lions realised how easy it was to catch and feed on domestic stock, they tended to remain in the area and habitually prey on the animals. Once hunted, they realised that they were safe on the park side and would come through after dark to raid the cattle kraals or kill the livestock in the camps.

 

Sometimes these young lions tended to show ‘bloodlust’ with such easy pickings and would kill four or five animals in one attack. I realised that the only way of making contact with these killers would be by setting up a hide and waiting for them to return to their kill to feed again. They were always more suspicious when approaching a kill of a domestic animal than one of natural prey, so the hides had to be carefully sited and disguised, and movement kept to a minimum. With care, I could sometimes shoot two or three in a night. If that sounds unsporting, I must stress that it was not sport hunting at all, but an attempt to rid the area of killers causing financial loss to the farmers and the community.

 

We did try to dart, capture and then relocate some lions further into the park, as far north as the Satara area, but this did not work. Within a week or two, these same lions returned and were again killing stock. They became wary and would not return to a kill, so they then had to be followed on foot from a kill – which could be quite ‘hairy’, especially in the dark. My tracker, Petrus, was very steady in this work and could be relied upon to keep a spotlight trained on the lion, allowing me to pick a shot. For this, I used a rechargeable battery with a spotlight and red filter. Following lion at night through the bush is pretty hair-raising work and shots were normally at close range.

Magagula (left) who assisted me with a lion hunt, with Petrus (right).

I remember one time when Petrus was down with malaria and I used a substitute tracker named Magagula. I had used him on hunts before with no problems, but this tracking in the dark was new to him. I carefully explained what to do and he seemed OK with it. We picked up a group of four young male lions moving back to the park at about 11pm and were following behind at about 15m when the light was switched on and trained on them. One of them stopped and turned to look back. I raised my rifle, ready to shoot – when Magagula’s nerves failed and he suddenly switched off the spotlight. I whispered to him to switch it on again, which he did,

but he simply flicked it on and off! Believe me, it is quite daunting standing in the bush in pitch blackness with lions a few metres ahead. Fortunately, the lions ran off and made their way back to the park. We never managed to catch up with them.

 

An amusing incident occurred with Magagula a few weeks later. I was driving along the road past the cattle kraals when I noticed something lying across the road. There was Magagula, drunk as a skunk, sprawled on the road with his bicycle beside him. I stopped and, in the headlights, picked up the spoor of three or four lions along the road and all around Magagula. They had obviously seen him lying there and, out of curiosity, sniffed and smelt all around him before moving off again. Fortunately, most lions are not man-eaters by nature and I think these ones were put off by the smell of beer! In his drunken state, Magagula was completely unaware of what had happened. I loaded him into the back of my Land Rover and dropped him off at the compound. The next morning, I collected him and took him to show him the tracks around where he had been lying. I must add, however, that even this did not cure his drinking.

 

Lioin raiders.

A raider lion taken out.

Most of the lions which caused problems were young males, although occasionally a mature lion or lioness was also a culprit. On two occasions, a large cow was killed and partially eaten. Waiting at the kill brought no results: the lion did not return. From the tracks, we saw that the killer was a large, mature male which had been hunted before and was wary of returning to his kill. The third attempt on a late afternoon was foiled by a tractor driver who arrived at the kraal just as the lion was trying to get into it. The lion ran off and they radioed me to advise what had happened. When I arrived, I saw from the tracks that it was the same lion that had previously made the kills. The tracks were fresh and reasonably clear, and seemed to be heading to the river boundary of the park. Petrus suggested that we cut across and try to get ahead before the lion reached the river. We could then perhaps get a shot. So we set off at a fast pace to make up time.

 

We arrived at the section of the river bank where Petrus thought the lion would cross, but no tracks were visible. We moved back into the tree line and sat down to wait. It was not too long before Petrus pointed and indicated that he could hear the lion. I trusted his instincts, as he was seldom wrong, so I moved to get ready if I had to shoot. Sure enough, we spotted the lion moving towards us, seemingly unaware of our presence. I took careful aim at his chest as he came forward and as my shot struck him, he seemed to leap up and flip over. I gave him a second shot and he fell flat. This cattle-raider had reached the end of his career. 

Leopard stock killer.

Not long after this, the raids seemed to become fewer, with the lions apparently behaving themselves and although there were sporadic kills in other areas, I was happy to have some respite from shooting more of them.

 

I would just mention that most of my lion control work was done with a .375 H&H and although it is not a favourite calibre of mine, I found it ideal for cats such as lion and leopard. It did prove effective in having a shock effect on them and knocking them down.

To order Campfire Thoughts & Reminiscences – the complete book with illustrations, (US $15 excluding S&H) contact Andrew Meyer at andrewisikhova@icloud.com

Classic and Contemporary African Hunting Literature

From the Veld – Recipes and Reflections from Namibia

Danene van der Westhuyzen (Tip Africa Publishing, 2020, 242 pages)
Reviewed by Ken Bailey

From the Veld is more than just another cookbook. It’s part autobiography, part photo montage and part homage to the land, the wildlife and the people of her native Namibia. Reading this book—and it must be read, it’s not intended to be skipped through as are most cookbooks— reveals more than Danene’s favorite recipes; it provides insight to her deepest thoughts about growing up, living and raising a family in “the land God made in anger” as the legend suggests.

 

Between the varied recipes, the writing is crisp and revealing, while the photos are intimate, inspiring and tempting. And as for the recipes… well let’s just say that I’ve had the pleasure of hunting with Danene and her team at Aru Game Lodges and can speak from firsthand experience that, in a country and an industry renowned for offering the highest quality of food and service, Danene and her staff take it to a whole new level. In fact, I distinctly recall, after having wiped off my chin one last time before leaving Aru, encouraging her to consider publishing a recipe book, as have, undoubtedly, many other clients.

 

Each recipe is described in the clearest practical manner, making them dead-easy to replicate at home. Where ingredients can be exchanged, she provides practical alternatives. For example, if you want to make scrambled ostrich eggs but don’t have a ready supply of ostrich eggs in your fridge, you can use 24 chicken eggs instead—who knew?

 

The recipes run the gamut from starters and snacks to salads, entrées, vegetables and desserts, each more appealing than the last. Some, like boerewors, beskuits (rusks) and African root stew, make it easy to bring the traditional flavors of Namibia into your home. Others, particularly the main courses, can be prepared using any venison or domestic meat available wherever you live—it’s the “extra” ingredients and the cooking method that take them to the five-star level.

If you’re like me and enjoy cooking and serving game as an integral part of the broader hunting experience, you likely have several wild game recipe books on your shelf. In fact, you might think you have no room and no reason to add another. Trust me, you do, and it should be From the Veld. Like the recipes offered, this a book to be savoured from start to finish, to be kept on the coffee table as often as in the kitchen.  

Get your copy here: https://fromtheveld.com

A Long, Short, Waterbuck Hunt

By Daryl Crimp

 

My Courteney boots puffed dust in the bushveld and left distinctive tracks, the solid rubber soles offering quiet tread— silent footsteps in the dirt. I’d learned the hard way that soles designed for comfort with tiny air bubbles injected in the rubber, amplify the sound of foot on grit, echo your approach, and spook prey.

 

Not that it mattered, because this particular waterbuck had the uncanny ability to hear the unheard and see the unseen and, once again, it vanished like an ace in a slick card trick. My PH Hennie and I had long since settled into a monotonous game of cat-and-mouse with this bull, and I despaired for an outcome in my favor.

 

“These big bulls,” Hennie whispered, “are super cunning – we just need to keep working this one until he makes a mistake.”

 

“Hopefully, before I die of old age,” I added.

 

We were four days into this safari, but the hunt for this particular animal had spanned three years. The area was renowned for good waterbuck sporting heavy-based horns with classic bell-shaped curves, so there was no reason for me to fixate on an individual bull, other than, sometimes it just gets personal.

Last year, I came close – oh so close – to taking this bull. 

 

I host safaris for Kiwi hunters from New Zealand and had a number of keen first time antipodeans on this hunt, including my young son Daniel. Another father and son were on the safari, so we hunted together.  This day, Rob and young Norm were after kudu, or impala, or warthog, or gemsbok… anything but waterbuck, and they had a good chance of success with two PHs and another four pairs of eyes scouting the veld.

Glassing for kudu.

Earlier in the safari, I’d spotted a good impala and asked Hennie to execute the stalk for Rob and Norm, knowing the animal was on both hunters’ wish list. Hennie is a master on the spoor and slipping through the thorns, so I was surprised when they returned an hour later empty handed.

 

It transpired that they had quickly found the feeding impala and were waiting for the ram to present for a shot, when Norm had suddenly tugged at his father’s shirt. I could just picture what happened…

 

“Dad, Dad, Dad,” he hissed while indicating to his left with bulging eyes.

“WHAAA…” Rob started but the words faltered.

 

The largest kudu bull Hennie had ever seen had stepped into the clearing, not more than five meters away, and was looking down at them almost with an air of indifference.  It was number one on Rob’s wish list, but… he just stood there gawping at it.  Hennie broke the cardinal PH rule and hissed a staccato, “shoot shoot shoot shoot shoot” to no avail.

 

“Crimpy, you could see my heart beating through my shirt – the bull was a monster!”

“I asked why he had not shot it and the response was the classic, “It was the first day of the safari and seemed too easy!”

“Well, two things are a given,” I said. “You will never see that bull again.”

“Nah,” replied Rob, “I know exactly where he lives.  What’s the second thing?”

“That bull is going to f@#* with your head!”

We never did see that kudu again! 

Crimpy enjoying fruits of baobab.

Next day, from the top of a kopje, Hennie spotted the waterbuck I wanted. Since my clients weren’t interested in this species, Daniel, Hennie, and I slipped off the rock and trotted like Bushmen out onto the veld.  The other PH, Deon, kept tabs on the bull through his binos, while Rob and Norm could watch the hunt unfold from above.

 

Hennie cut the spoor, slowed, and lit a cigarette. The hunt was on. Deon occasionally issued hand signals from above but they were superfluous because the ground whispered to Hennie. Here and there, using sign language, he indicated where the waterbuck had fed, walked, changed course and urinated. This is the drug of Africa, where time warps and you hunt in the shadow of your ancestors.

 

Hennie turned and winked at me, lifting his hand close to his face and drawing his thumb and index finger together. We were close. The air was electric. Charged with static. Then it exploded. BOOM!

 

We looked from one to the other, then back over our shoulders in disbelief. Hennie’s radio crackled.

 

“Rob’s just shot a huge waterbuck behind you,” Deon’s metallic voice punctuated the fullstop to our hunt. I was incredulous.

 

We backtracked to find Rob’s huge waterbuck, hoping that mine had not circled behind us and fallen to his shot. More excited radio chatter, as the others were eager for assessment of the bull.

Hennie finally looked down and muttered, “Well, it’s no Goliath.”

“More like a David,” I said, relieved my waterbuck was still running somewhere through the African twilight.

“Is it a monster?” Rob asked excitedly when they arrived.I was pondering a diplomatic reply, when darkness fell abruptly—as it does in the veld. Something coughed close by.

“What was that?” asked Rob.

“Leopard,” I replied. The bakkie was 300m away and that waterbuck suddenly looked enormous!

 

The following morning I was back with another set of hunters, none of whom was interested in waterbuck.  Hennie and I were hunting with Grant who had missed his dream kudu bull on the first day – big, heavy, with wide-V-shaped horns that would have stretched the tape beyond 55”. To give him credit, he was philosophical about his duff shot and proved to be a wonderful hunting companion.

 

Because waterbuck hadn’t made Grant’s shopping list, Hennie suggested I slip into hunting mode should the opportunity come.  Grant was happy with that.

After several exciting stalks on animals that were not really what we wanted, the waterbuck had risen through the ranks and was vying for top billing on Grant’s list. He suddenly wanted a good waterbuck. The safari bug had bitten.

 

Then Hennie glimpsed a good bull that he thought was the one that I had wanted, so we left Grant with Malibongwe, our tracker, beside a termite mound and snaked through the thorns.

 

We studied the waterbuck through the binoculars from 80m for twenty minutes, deliberating, until it lay down.

 

“I’ll offer it to Grant,” I finally whispered, “It’ll look magnificent on his wall.”

“Are you sure, Crimpy?  That is a massive waterbuck.”

“For sure, but I’m not motivated by the tape measure alone and that’s not my bull.”

 

I waved Grant in and got the nod. Using a low bush as a shield, Hennie stalked Grant closer and had him settled on the sticks 50m from the somnolent bull.  Hennie barked to get its attention.  He barked and barked and barked again. Africa does that to you – screws with your head. Things had been like fickle fireflies all week and now this bull was languid in the extreme. Then the waterbuck stood and presented the perfect shot…

Grant with a magnificent waterbuck bull.

As Hennie’s fingers smoothed the tape measure against a deeply rippled horn, it kept climbing and climbing – 32.5” to the tip. Grant was delighted. It was almost his seventy-second birthday, a great gift, and I was very satisfied for him, but there remained a score to settle.

 

However, my waterbuck continued to kick my butt for another two days with tantalizing glimpses, long standoffs behind thorn thickets, and tortuous stalks before disappearing as if in a sleight of hand. I suggested, ‘drop and roll’. Hennie grinned.

 

That morning we drove through the bull’s territory en route to kudu country. At my nod, Hennie dropped off the bakkie, and caught my rifle as I followed. Malibongwe kept driving until he was out of sight.

 

Hennie and I, covered in dust, crawled into the thorns. It was a short final stalk, just 80m at the end of three challenging years. The bull was staring off into the distance, oblivious of our presence. Once satisfied the bakkie had gone, the bull leisurely recommenced feeding. Its path transected the only shooting alley I had, a narrow gap in the thorns. Hennie timed it perfectly, giving a throaty cough that pulled the bull up dead center in open ground. It lifted its head, turned, and took one last look at the world…

 

I ran my hands over the beautiful, bell-shaped, heavy horns and reflected on a magnificent hunt. In the tradition of the San Bushmen, I plucked a tuft of hair from the tail and cast it to the wind to show respect to the animal and help it into the next realm.

 

The spirit of the waterbuck vanished like an ace in a slick card trick.

 

A shiver ran down my spine.

Crimpy had to mix it up to finally get the drop on this waterbuck.

Crimpy’s waterbuck; note the heavy base and deep curl.

Biography

Raised on a farm in the South Island New Zealand, Daryl has hunted since before he could remember: rabbits, then pigs, deer, wallaby and alpine tahr and chamois. From the age of 10, he had a dream to hunt Africa, to leave his footsteps on the Dark Continent. He now runs a business hosting hunters on safari in Africa – Daryl Crimp’s FOOTSTEPS ON AFRICA

darylcrimp@gmail.com

Crisis in the Cradle of Rhino Conservation

The Natal Parks Board was once upon a time one of the most effective and admired conservation organisations in the world. With its neatly dressed, disciplined and highly motivated staff, these men epitomised the popular image of the ‘Game Ranger’, and I remember as an infatuated schoolboy writing a letter to the NPB asking how I could also become one of these superheroes. I received in return a polite typed note on an NPB letterhead, suggesting that I should go and study Zoology, which indeed I did, but my career moved in a different direction after that. The Natal Parks Board with its legendary Dr Ian Player, was responsible for saving the Southern White Rhino from the brink of extinction. So successful were they that surplus animals were spread across Southern Africa and the world. Private owners acquired breeding stock, and trophy hunting ensured that rhinos were valuable and valued animals, and their numbers continued to increase. 

 

But the iconic Natal Parks Board is no more. The advent of a democratically elected government in 1994, and the replacement of the NPB and its senior staff by a new breed of South Africans, many motivated for all kinds of reasons other than a love of wildlife and a passion for conservation, has resulted in an organization that is mired in controversy, and a cradle of rhino conservation that is now a bloody killing ground. Now known as Ezemvelo KZN Wildlife, the parks under its control have been facing an unprecedented level of poaching of both the critically endangered Black Diceros bicornis and the White Ceratotherium simum Rhinos. The onslaught has been so intense that rhino once again face extinction in this once-secure corner of Africa.

 

So far this year a total of 123 rhino have been poached in the province. The rhino poaching syndicates are extremely well organised, and move their operations around the country, apparently in response to intelligence about where anti-poaching activities are slack. After mainly targeting the Kruger National Park, the rhino poachers met increasingly stern resistance from the KNP’s well-organised and fortified anti-poaching staff, equipped with sophisticated remote sensing devices, helicopters, trackers and dogs. Then followed a shift to the rhino populations in the Eastern Cape, but since 2012 the KZN parks, particularly Hluhluwe iMfolozi Park (HIP), have been targeted. Numbers have escalated since 2012 (50 killed), 2014 (100 killed), 2016 (150 killed) and 2017 (200 killed).

 

Back in 2016, a task team was commissioned by the former KZN premier, Willies Mchunu, to investigate issues around rhino poaching and related criminal activity in KZN, including the role of provincial and national government departments and bodies dealing with such matters. The team comprised representatives from the following organizations:

 

  1. Ezemvelo KZN Wildlife;
  2. South African Police Services;
  3. Directorate of Public Prosecutions;
  4. Office of the Premier;
  5. State Security Services;
  6. An international Policing Expert;
  7. A legal expert from the Ian Player Foundation.

 Curiously, the representatives of the South African Police Services and the State Security Services were withdrawn at an early stage, and no support was received from the Directorate of Public Prosecutions. This contributed to a significant delay in the remaining members finalising this report, which was delivered to the current provincial premier, Sihle Zikalala, more than two years ago. There was considerable public interest in the findings and recommendations of the task team, but its members were forced to sign non-disclosure agreements and were sworn to secrecy.

 

Eventually, in May 2022, after the Democratic Alliance had made a court application for public access to the document, Premier Zikalala released Part 1 of the report. It is a shocker, and a serious indictment of Ezemvelo and its Board and senior staff members. Too long to report on fully here, a few extracts will help convey the contents of this report.

 

The Rhino Security Manager, while based in Durban, was appointed to manage and co-ordinate all rhino poaching matters…(he) had no control or command over other resources deployed on the ground, and in particular had no authority over any staff in the Reserves.

 

We were advised that Ezemvelo has its own internal Wildlife Crime Investigation Team, however Rangers that we interviewed reported that they had no interaction with this team, and as such could not express any opinion or sense of confidence in them. This lack of co-ordination appeared to us to be a major gap in anti-poaching efforts.

 

Of particular concern is that the most qualified and experienced investigator was withdrawn from rhino crime investigations and is now based in the Ukhahlamba Region. In the light of the poaching crisis it would be common sense for the most experienced and competent investigator to be deployed where his skills would be of most benefit.

 

It was also noted with concern that due to the change of companies procured for helicopter services, experienced pilots who had an intimate knowledge of the terrain were changed for new pilots who would have to gain the necessary experience.

 

During the investigations of the Task Team it was evident that challenges in leadership and management had a direct impact on the efficacy of anti-rhino poaching activities. Poor management practices has led to a breakdown of morale in the organization, this being felt acutely by rangers on the ground who are the mainstay of anti-poaching activities within the boundaries of the various parks.

 

The CEO also indicated that the working relationship between him and the Board was poor, causing adverse consequences to the wellbeing of the organisation generally. One of the complaints of the CEO, echoed by various levels of management, was that certain Board members frequently meddled in operational activities, by becoming involved in the day to day management of the organisation and directly interfering with the work of the CEO and management.

 

A startling example of the Board exceeding its mandate was its involvement in a potential agreement between The Royal Rhino and Elephant Reserves of Southern Africa (Pty) Ltd. Effectively, this agreement would have outsourced nature conservation in the KZN reserves to the abovementioned corporation, the Board would have abdicated its statutory obligations to protect and manage protected areas within the province, to a private company with vested financial interests.

 

Other leadership challenges involved the concentration of senior staff at head office in Pietermaritzburg who would be responsible for all procurement and other major decisions.

 

It was apparent to the Task Team on its visits to the reserves that the standard of tourism facilities had dropped significantly. In the Hilltops Resort, maintenance issues on buildings were the subject of frequent complaints by international tourists.

 

Until recently the Park Manager of Hluhluwe-iMfolozi Reserve did not reside in the reserve but in fact lived in Durban some 300 km away from his area of responsibility. This anomaly was allowed to continue even though this was contrary to policy which required that the Park Manager resided in the park.

 

The previous Conservation Manager for iMfolozi Reserve, although he did have a residence in the Reserve, reportedly was seldom found to be in the reserve and spent most of his time living outside the area.

 

The Conservation Manager for Hluhluwe was reported to be often absent from his post.

 

And so it goes on and on about a provincial conservation agency in disarray, failing in its responsibilities to safeguard the biodiversity of South Africa, in accordance with the requirements as a signatory to the Convention on Biodiversity. The low morale of the men on the ground, a park manager who did not even live in his park, the general breakdown of discipline and pride: these are fertile grounds for disaffected employees who will pass on information to the poaching syndicates, sweetened by some welcome cash, perhaps? And shipping your most experienced rhino crime investigator to the Drakensberg where there are no rhinos? Just to make it a bit easier for the poaching syndicates, perhaps?

 

And the early withdrawal of representatives of the South African Police Services and the State Security Services from the Task Team? Well now, there’s a thing… could it be that the poaching syndicates are so powerful that they hold influence over both organizations? It would appear to be the case, judging from an exposé on Al Jazeera television news showing camera footage of a former Minister of State Security in apparent possession of a poached rhino horn.

 

And surely the national Minster for Forestry, Fisheries and Environment should be taking a strong interest in this festering sore in our national conservation matrix? Well, no, she seems to be very busy with her draft Climate Change Bill, which has been described as “a monstrous absurdity”.

 

With a cast of characters like this holding the future of a critical rhino population in their hands, what hope is there for their future prospects? Not much, I fear…

Dr John Ledger is a past Director of the Endangered Wildlife Trust, now a consultant, writer and teacher on the environment, energy and wildlife; he is a columnist for the African Hunting Gazette. He lives in Johannesburg, South Africa. John.Ledger@wol.co.za

On the Menu: Braaied Guineafowl Breasts Tandoori Style

Whilst tandoori ovens are in short supply, this spicy dish tastes excellent when braaied over hardwood coals. The longer the meat is left in the marinade, the greater the tenderising effect of the yogurt, and it can be overdone, with 4 hours being sufficient.

 

Ingredients

 

8 guineafowl breasts 

3 tablespoons vegetable oil

1 teaspoon ground coriander

1 teaspoon ground cumin

½ teaspoon ground turmeric

2 teaspoons cayenne pepper

1 tablespoon curry powder

2 tablespoons sweet paprika

1 cup plain yogurt

2 tablespoons lemon juice

4 minced garlic cloves

2 tablespoons minced fresh ginger

1 teaspoon salt

 

Method

 

Heat the oil in a pan over medium heat, then add the coriander, cumin, turmeric, cayenne, curry powder and paprika, stirring often, releasing the spices, until fragrant (approximately 2-3 minutes) and let it cool completely. Whisk the cooled spice-oil mixture into the yogurt, then mix in the lemon juice, garlic, salt and ginger.  Stir in the guineafowl, cover, and refrigerate for 2-4 hours.   Lightly oil the braai grid. Grill over a medium heat, and be carefull not to burn the meat, approximately 5 minutes on each side.

 

Serving Suggestions

 

Serve with a fresh salad, including cucumber, red onion, red wine vinegar, and olive oil.

Signed copies of Everyday Venison and South African Gamebird Recipes, by Leslie van der Merwe, are available from www.gamechef.co.za


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