Bog Myrtle & Peat

Worth mentioning that in a fit of nostalgia for my days in South Africa, I made up a batch of droewors sausages last night using the haunch from one of August’s roebucks. The smell of malt vinegar, venison, ground coriander and black pepper has taken me on a fantastic journey down memory lane to “Bosveldfees 2003” in Ellisras, where Afrikaners strode around in obscenely short shorts eating dried game meat and naartjies and putting away frankly alarming quantities of brandy.

I’ll leave these sausages for six or eight weeks to dry, then they will be perfect for the hill. In the meantime, the wasps are scooping gob-fulls out of a “sacrificial” sausage I’ve hung nearest the window in an attempt at diversionary feeding.