WAS a guest at the campfire of professional hunter Dave Lincoln in Botswana, when he produced an unlabelled jar of evil-looking gunge which he proceeded to add to the potjie. “Grief, Dave, what’s that stuff?” I asked. “Taste it,” he said, offering me some in a teaspoon. Taking it on my tongue, I savoured it. “Whoa! Sharp!” I exclaimed, adding, “But good! That’s powerful chilli. Though that isn’t normal brine, is it?” Grinning, Dave offered me the jar. “Try a sip of the brine.” “Nooo thank you, I’ve
