I was browsing the local post shop one day, when I noticed a box labeled Kiwi Homesick Pack. “What would New Zealanders send their friends abroad?” I asked myself. A tiny pair of gumboots? A silver fern frond? A rugby ball? I should have guessed… It was all food. Weet-bix, Jaffas, Marmite, chocolate fish, even Watties tomato sauce. Nostalgia is strongest in our tastebuds. Why should it be any different in New Zealand?
A book about iconic Kiwi cuisine starts this way, “For many years we New Zealanders, in our self-deprecating way, insisted that there was no real ‘New Zealand cuisine’, that our food simply belonged to the country or ethnic group from which it came.” Indeed, sometimes it feels like Kiwi-land is just a chip off the ol’ British block – plenty of fish ‘n’ chip shops, sausage rolls, pickled vegetables and Christmas puddings. This illusion disappears when you walk into the local fish ‘n’ chip shop.
While Kiwis are addicted to deep-fried battered fish and thick-cut spuds like their northern cousins, they get to use some truly fabulous finned catches. There’s little of your North Atlantic cod or haddock on the menu. Instead, you get battered fish with vowel-ladden Māori names, like hoki, tarakihi, and kuparu. Or you could have lemonfish, which is actually a rig shark. If you’re lucky, it’s whitebait season and you can try a mess of translucent inanga fry cooked whole into fritters. Don’t forget to order tartar sauce, as it costs extra. And you will have to learn to pronounce it “fush ‘n’ chups,” to truly fit in with locals.
New Zealand seafood is fantastic. Different locales are famous for particular catches. The tiny town of Havelock advertises itself as the “green-lipped mussel capital of the world.” Kaikoura’s name literally means “rock lobster food” in Māori. Bluff oysters are named for the town where they’re most abundant. Even non-native fish claim their own towns. Turangi is famous for brown trout, and little Rakaia hosts their own salmon fishing competition. We suspect that our friend Ryan settled his family on a dairy farm there because of the nearby angling opportunities. Indeed, his homemade fry-up – made with a rig shark caught by son Alex – has been one of our fish supper highlights.
I’ve even learned to steam green-lipped mussels at home, with white wine or a spicy chorizo sauce. This is a fantastic deal. You can feed four on ~ $5.00 NZD worth of the emerald-and-black shellfish. It’s even cheaper if you catch your own, which many folks do. It isn’t a pier if someone isn’t fishing or diving off it. The freshest mouthful I’ve ever had was a raw oyster that took three bites to finish. It was handed to me straight from the sea by a Māori family fishing on the pier where we were fueling up our friend’s sailboat. It wasn’t quite to my taste, but I still look forward to tasting some other Māori delicacies, like pāua, pipis and kina. I do miss that icon of the Pacific Northwest: salmon. A friend at the National Institute of Water & Atmospheric Research (NIWA) tells me that New Zealand salmon is some of the most sustainably farmed fish in the world. Still, it just can’t hold a candle flavor-wise to wild Alaskan salmon.
Pacific NW folk aren’t alone in their passion for a particular local food. Wherever they go, New Mexicans bond with other New Mexicans by reminiscing about when they last had green chilé. Bulgarians abroad make their own yoghurt and sausage, to simulate the flavors of home. Only people from Philadelphia (Philadelphians? Philly-pinos?) know what constitutes a real Philly cheese steak. What do many Kiwis miss most when overseas? Pies, pies, pies!
First, they’ve everywhere. Every bakery and gas station sells hot pies with flaky pastry crusts, the perfect size for your hand and your breakfast. No fruit in these pies, though. They’re strictly savoury. You’ll find steak and cheese, bacon and egg, and even Indian butter chicken pies. You want an apple pie? Better go to McDonald’s because those are American as. (Don’t even ask about pumpkin pie. All Kiwis think that’s weird and won’t try it. After all, pumpkin is for roasting or putting in lasagne, right?) Pies are so much a part of the psyche that a recent YouTube phenomenon revolves around a Kiwi delinquent “going for a pie” and the cop who reminds him that those pies are HOT. Don’t forget the t-shirt!
Kiwi mate John points out that the best pies in New Zealand are made by Asians nowadays. Whether or not this is true, it seems like most bakeries are owned or operated by recent Chinese and Southeast Asian immigrants. Still, the fare is pretty Pākeha. In addition to pies, you have sausage rolls and neenish tarts, lamingtons and slices, Chelsea buns and muffins. Brownies are always called American brownies. Midwesterners will recognize slices as bars, although these almost always have a pastry base. My favorite is the ginger slice. On the other hand, I have a particular horror of the lolly cakes, a dark malt crumb bar luridly studded with pink, yellow and green candy. I admit, I haven’t tried them.
Bakeries are the fast way to get your daytime Kiwi food fix. If you have a bit more time, you go to a café. It seems like there are as many cafés in Auckland as pubs in Edinburgh – at least 2-3 per block. And they all appear to serve some variant of the same menu. Breakfast is often the most important meal, with emphasis on bacon or egg-laden dishes. Eggs benedict, fried mushrooms, pancakes, waffles, smoked salmon bagels and fried potatoes are also common. The first meal I had in New Zealand was pancakes piled high with thick bacon and baked bananas, all slathered with maple syrup. Yes, the syrup was on the meat, too. Kiwis have a unique fascination with combining sweet and meat. How else to explain that chutney comes with everything or that pizzas with apricot sauce are common? (Yuck.) That said, the pancake concoction is delicious.
Lunch offerings might be more varied, ranging from simple grilled sandwiches to roast vegetable salads, pasta dishes to Asian-style stir-fry. But much of that is beside the point. Because, really, the café is there for the caffeine. New Zealand café culture is relatively recent. It emerged in the early 1990s with the increasing popularity of coffee drinks like cappuccino. Tea may still reign at home and work, but coffee is the chic drink.
One of my favorite parts about traveling is finding out about local coffee culture. In Turkey and the Balkans, your java is cooked until foamy in a long-handled pot and served up hot, sweet and black in a demitasse cup. The Ethiopians and Eritreans start with the green beans and cook them in a pan until black. Watching an Ethiopian lady pour the coffee for visitors is a special treat. In Vienna, my mom became addicted to the ubiquitous coffee drink, the mélange. And no, you don’t really get cinnamon in coffee in Vienna. It’s only in the cinnamon rolls, called zimtschnecke (cinnamon snails). In the rainy northwestern United States, you get your espresso-based coffee drink at the counter, mere seconds after you order. The steam hiss of the espresso machine, efficient ballet of making the perfect cup, and teasing banter with the barista are part of the experience.
Hey Seattleites! Ever watched Frasier and wondered where that mythical café is that actually brings your coffee to your table? In New Zealand, that café is every café. The speed at which you get your caffeine injection is less of a big deal for your laidback Kiwis. So, you always order your cup of joe at the counter and retire to your table with an order number. Yes, even when it’s take-away.
And don’t make the mistake of thinking you know your lattes from your Americanos in the Antipodes. Folks from the middle of the USA, you’re going to get blank looks when you ask for “just a regular coffee.” The key terms to know here are flat white, short black and long black. A short black is basically an espresso shot, and a long black is an Americano where you put the water in first. A flat white is basically a latte without as much foam that’s 50 cents cheaper. I may have started an international coffee incident with that description. But I haven’t met a barista yet who can explain the difference to fit my philistine understanding. It’s good, though!
Dinner is where the real variety is. As the country is becoming more urban and ethnically diverse, Kiwi restauranteurs are trying to create a distinct New Zealand culinary identity – with sometimes hilarious, sometimes delectable results. Presentation can be fantastic. Haute cuisine and café food alike can arrive in a decoratively arrange tower of deliciousness. That can mean that your baked chicken arrives on top of kumara mash, topped with a bacon-wrapped banana.
One success story is the NZ-style hamburger. Who would have thought you could combine hamburger, bacon, egg, pickled beets, avocado, mango and aioli? They’re so big and juicy that you need two hands and a plate to eat one properly. Or at least, a doofer. At our favorite burger joint, you can get kumara fries with aioli dipping sauce, too. YUM!!
“Ethnic” food abounds in the larger cities. I haven’t had bad Indian or Thai food yet, although a Wellington friend insists they need more decent Thai there. (Immigration NZ agrees, as Thai Chef is listed as an “essential skill” in demand.) Kebab shops, run by Turks and Iranians, are popular and ubiquitous. And yes, they feature my favorite questionable meat product: Donner kebabs. It’s all in the spelling… Chinese restaurants abound, as do Asian-themed food courts with surprisingly fresh food. There’s even a dim sum stand in one food court, where you can order al a carte!
You’d think we eat out all the time, but that’s not the case. It’s really quite expensive to go out. That’s probably why there’s still a strong tradition of potlucks and barbecues, to supplement the commercial takeaways and sausage sizzles. If you’re asked to “bring a plate,” don’t make the same mistake a young Chinese immigrant did by providing your own cutlery. That’s just Kiwi-speak for potluck.
And of course, having tea is still a big part of the culture, in the private sphere. You’ll be welcomed with a cup of tea, even when you visit a place of business. You may be expected to get it yourself, but the point is that it’s proffered. If you’re lucky, this will include some lovely Kiwi biscuits. Be sure to dunk them, though, as you’ll break your teeth if you don’t. (American cookies are identifiable because they’re soft, I’ve been told.) And teatime is serious business, so don’t expect office workers to come to your aid when the kettle is on. Our Māori class always ends with tea and biscuits, and there’s an obligatory tea break even when I work in the Refugee Services warehouse on Fridays.
Tea is so key that it’s part of the meal schedule – when people ask you what you’re having for “your tea,” they mean “what’s for dinner?” (I’d argue that this comes from working-class British habits.) Kids have both morning tea and lunch breaks at school. And, according to my American mom friend Amy, “true Kiwi parents provide their children breakfast, morning tea, lunch, afternoon tea and dinner on the weekends! The teas are established meals!”
At home is also where you’ll find the older styles of Kiwi cooking. New Zealand is still primarily an agricultural country, with an economy dependent on exporting dairy, fruit, fish, meat and wood products. In fact, the milk industry is so important that convenience stores are called “dairies.” In many ways, Kiwis are a meat and potatoes people. Pākeha Kiwis have made their own adaptations to traditional English recipes, such as replacing the Christmas goose with a leg of mutton or lamb roast (photo) (since Christmas is springtime here). Māori Kiwis have contributed the delectable sweet potato called kumara, which they brought over in their wakas. Supplement that with pickled veggies, roasted pumpkin, kiwifruit, and cream-based desserts, and you’re having a proper kai.
If you’re lucky, someone will provide that quintessential kiwiana dessert – the pavlova. This is a soft meringue cake topped with whipped cream and fruits like strawberries and kiwifruit. It’s light and lovely, when done well. There is also an ongoing classic culinary battle with Australia over who invented it. We know it was named for ballerina Anna Pavlova, but beyond that Kiwis and Aussies can’t decide whose symbol it should be. Other iconic Kiwi foods cause similar battles, such as Anzac biscuits, but none are so emotionally charged as the Great Pavlova Debate.
In fact, food is a major component of the national preoccupation with identifying “kiwiana” – what Te Ara Encyclopedia of New Zealand describes best as “quirky things that contribute to a sense of nationhood.” Some kiwiana is really relevant to understanding New Zealand history and identity. Things like gumboots or No. 8 wire, sheep or paua shells. Even the Māori traditional style of cooking over heated rocks in a pit oven – called hāngi – tells you something about living in this land.
But many beloved kiwiana are more about a trip to the dairy for biscuits and candy. Chocolate fish, hokey pokey ice cream, Pineapple Lumps, Jaffas, Jelly Tip, Tim Tams and L&P soda all contribute to a sense of Kiwi identity and a major sweet tooth. But there may be more here than rots the tooth. These items date from early to mid-20th century, when New Zealand’s economy was highly regulated. Local manufacture was encouraged, such that Kiwis created their own brands for many items rather than importing them. When markets opened up, these tastes of home and dairy faced challenges. In a sense, kiwiana may be an attempt to redefine NZ identity as part of becoming more cosmopolitan.
Or it could just be about what’s familiar. After all, why else would I visit 5 stores to find aniseed to make New Mexican biscochito cookies for Christmas? Or have friends carry steelcut oats from the US? Or lament the complete lack of dill pickles in New Zealand? As 12-year old American girl Pascal said to me last week, “Guess what I had today? Goldfish AND Reeces! There’s an American store. My mom won’t tell me where it is, or else I’d probably go there everyday.” Boy, is she gonna miss pies when she gets back home.
Whet your appetite visually at: NZ – Food by jocuteca.
Kiwi Crazy 