Goat stalking
When a BBQ
gets your goat
A hiatus in summer sport and a rare spell
of good Irish weather gives Barry Stoffell the
chance to stalk a Kerry goat for the barbecue
nothing to cook. Fortunately, the
answer soon arrived in conversation
with a good friend, JJ Sullivan. After
patiently listening to me bemoaning
my predicament, he offered: “Well,
why not come up here and get a goat?”
Goat had last been on our menu in
the depths of winter, when I assisted a
local farmer to thin out the substantial
herds that were making a nuisance
of themselves on his sheep farm (Not
to be sniffed at, 2 January).Escapees
The mountains of Kerry are home to
a growing population of feral goats,
descendants of generations of farm
escapees. These non-natives breed
very successfully in the absence of
harsh winters or natural predators
and are enough of a pest species
to be afforded no close season,
making them an ideal candidate
for a midsummer barbecue.
The Sullivan farm is firmly in
goat territory, consisting of moreA
s the days lengthened
towards midsummer,
County Kerry experienced
a rare run of fine, dry
weather. This meteorological
boon was made doubly satisfying
by frequent messages from my
sister informing me that it was
raining heavily in Sussex. You must
allow those of us on the Emerald Isle
these vanishingly rare chances at
weather oneupmanship.
All was less harmonious in the
“locavore” kitchen, however. The
fields around us were awaiting their
first cut for silage, leaving the grass
plenty long enough to conceal the
rabbits, and I had returned from
recent attempts to bag a bunny
embarrassingly light-handed.
Deer stalking wouldn’t start until
September and even the boat was
laid-up with engine trouble, so fishing
would have to wait. Yet the forecast
remained stunning, presenting a
problem — barbecue weather withA.
GEARD
40 • SHOOTING TIMES & COUNTRY MAGAZINE
At the sound of the shot, the rest of the goats scattered and disappeared back down the valley