Monday Meal Review: Namibia
As Ava scuttles off to the zoo with her grandmother, I stay behind to wrangle alligator for the first time. While she walks between the lanky giraffes and prowling tigers, seeking a tail-slinging alligator of her own, I coat ours with a bright layer of lemon piri piri sauce and pop it in the refrigerator for a few hours. As she watches the lions, padding their way around their enclosure, scanning the perimeter, looking for a way out – wondering where the rest of Africa is – I place a loaf of Veldt bread in the shimmering oven. Ava looks at the animals curiously but not exactly afraid. Not like she would be if she ran into them in the actual wilderness. She is an observer but not a participant in the scene. But things could be different. Last week I was confronted with a sordid, disturbing tale called The Veldt by Ray Bradbury from the 1950’s written about the veldt in southern Africa. The term veldt is a lot like the term outback – it’s the way-out-there land, …
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