It was a dark and stormy night when the Hunter pulled up to the Mooste manor house. He approached our door in his black rubber boots, a plastic shopping bag in his hand, a suspicious looking leg hinting from the top, its hoof gracefully articulated en pointe. What ended up costing only about $15 for at least ten pounds of rich, succulent wild boar surprised us that evening after an arduous request for fresh game. Our Hunter had been unlucky so far that month, and had kept us in suspense for some weeks about what he could bring us. After seeing my fair share of deer and rabbits I had gingerly asked Evelyn if we should try a different hunter, but was informed that our man was the head of all county hunters and it would be an insufferable slight to ask elsewhere. He ended up bringing us something from his pantry to compensate for his failure in the wood. No matter, it was delicious! However, we only had a mini-fridge... Luckily the walls in a stone house keep a dark closet cool. Necessity in indeed the mother of invention!
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