Legs of something in a box...

Shortly after arriving in Mafia I received this in an email from my boss:

".....there are some legs of something in a box, frozen...dont know what they are but some poor bush animal of some kind...marinated it will be "game" so have a go...hope its not a manky goat as anna-marie would say..."

There was no end to the creativity that one was able to draw upon while working in Africa. Sure, some items was difficult to get a hold of. I didn't have access to my favourite olive oils, fresh truffles, micro greens, and all of the other high ticket items that are easily obtainable in the USA. It only made sense to brinng in South African wines. And I didn't have a wide variety of fruits and vegetables to choose from. But when you have a minimal amount of ingredients available it forces you to think outside the box. I loved that I had the freedom to use whatever I could get my hands on. As long as the food tasted good the owner was content.

Goats, chickens, and all sorts of other livestock were delivered to the resort's back gate. My fish usually came in strapped to the back of a bicycle. We butchered most of the meat that we served on property. It was commonplace in Africa and culling chickens was as routine as filleting fish. I would often have to remind the staff not to butcher animals in plain view of the guests. It seemed like Africa was a dumping ground for clothes that sat on shelves for too long in stores like Goodwill and The Salvation Army. It is where Buffalo Bills Superbowl Champion shirts go and a lot of other oddities like gas station shirts, retro bowling shirts, and random shirts from just about every workforce under the planet. I remember walking out the back gate one day to find one of my night watchmen methodically butchering chickens in a white lab coat. Of course it was in plain view to newly arriving guests and we had chicken on the menu that night.