Historic Places

Today, I was on duty as a tour guide for one of the prettiest historic homes in New Zealand. It is a Category 1 Historic Place. www.theelms.org.nz
New Zealand was a colonial outpost of Britain in the early 19th Century. By the mid to late 19th Century, shiploads of European, mainly British people, started landing in New Zealand to start a new life. Amongst the earliest arrivals were the missionaries who thought they were given a divine right to ‘Christianise’, the local people and by hook or by crook, they tried to do just that.

the drawing room

There are indicators in the historic texts, that many of the Fundamentalist early Christian missionaries were a pretty dour lot; moralistic and hating the ‘Papists’, combing through bags of second hand clothing to give to the natives and removing anything with a dash of colour in the garment. For all of that, the little Georgian house, ‘The Elms’, near the centre of Tauranga city, has a lovely elegant atmosphere. The missionary families devoted their lives to the community and if you believe places have good or bad vibes, this holds a good lot. It has a richness of spirit, commented on by many visitors. I particularly like the beautiful swan neck kauri wood staircase, the lovely dining room and drawing room.

swan neck staircase no photos please oops!

A couple visited the grounds today, having come up from Christchurch as a respite from the recent earthquake aftershocks. They left smiling.

Rotten eggs

Our daughter had a lovely Canadian girl stay, for the weekend recently. She had not been to Katikati before and had only visited Rotorua, very briefly. Briefly, because her mother when visiting the town, hated the sulphurous smell so much, they cut their visit short. What a pity!

Rotorua, nicknamed Rota Vegas by the locals, has a plethora of attractions. Many, as I have alluded to, in previous posts, are total tourist rip off’s. But that is a mistake, because Rotorua is one hour’s drive from home, I happily take first time visitor’s over the scenic bush clad, back road and leisurely meander through the interesting sightseeing musts.

First impressions count and the street gardens are gorgeous! Thermally heated hot houses in the Government Gardens grow beautiful plants. The Government Gardens are quaint and endearing and have thermal therapeutic baths aside rolling bowling greens, off set with iconic colonial buildings.

Think theme park for real! A fear factor exists, with warning signs extolling the dangers of venturing off the official paths. Kiwi's all grew up with stories of the lady who went down to the garden shed in the dark, never to come back because a boiling hot slump hole bubbled up in her back yard over night. Or, the lady taking her dog for a walk in front of the Rotorua Lake and it went over the yellow and white crusty, geologically challenged termed wording, surface and did not, "Come back Rover". Urban legends belong to this city.

Trout fishing, thermal spas, lovely bush clad walks, Maori tourism experiences, colonial architecture, silly sheep and wild rides.

Spring Babies

Finally, I have completed the twins’ gowns. Our friend’s daughter is due tomorrow with babes of a good size – an instant family, one girl and one boy. Clever!

I have not made this pattern for twenty three years. My fingers are ‘thicker’ and my eyes did not do fine sewing at night. Fine cotton lawn with pure cotton thread and eyelet lace; constitute the ingredients. In the end I scalloped the hem and I have sourced a suitable box to present them.

I know there are Country Institutes and similar groups of ladies that sew and mend the world but I wonder if there should be more? (Bureaucracy prevents us having a ‘place of assembly’ here without paying a hefty resource consent fee to the local council.) Once, people of all ages made scarves and socks for the war effort and I think, given the recession and the terrible impact on victims of Christchurch’s earthquake, there deserves a place for a handmade item, to be given with warm wishes and a kind thought.

Spring has Sprung

The grass is riz, I wonder where dem birdies is? I know - they are on the farm honking and squawking, including; thirty broody Canada geese plus cormorants fishing for whitebait. It is that time of year when the birds wake you up just before you are ready to wake up.

I want to garden but the rain is back so the wedding swing seat has to remain lonely until another day. I shifted the bricks underneath and filled in the gap with a few hedging shrubs but it needs more tender loving care. It helps that dear neighbours are on growing rose cuttings and promising me hydrangea slips too.

So instead, I bake little walnut cookies and take some over to Henri in the Flying Shack for his afternoon tea. He is finishing up making grappa and I disturbed him axing tiny branches of old grape vine pruning’s to feed the fire under the copper. The smoke is delicate and fruity and wafts up into the pines where the herons roost.

Seal the Day

Mount Maunganui has a couple of rather large residents that slumber on the rocks at the base of the mountain. They are well camouflaged and I have never seen them do anything other than vaguely lift a flipper. They reside about five minutes walk around the base track from the ocean side on what must be one of the most convenient walkways in the North Island.

(It is convenient because a forty five minute saunter can conclude with delicious coffee from a choice of cafes.) As I have mentioned before, there are hot pools and many aquatic activities available in the area, most especially in the summer months. For us, it is only a half hour’s drive from home and easy parking.

Holly and I pretend to be exercising, by walking around the base track but it is a thin excuse before going to lunch at a relatively new restaurant further down the ocean beach. It is called Tay Street Beach Cafe www.taystreetbeachcafe.co.nz and I love their food. Holly ordered a lamb fillet salad with fried haloumi cheese, rocket greens, tomatoes and crumbed egg plant and I had ahi tuna with a crisp prawn spring roll, warm soba noodles and soy sesame dressing with oyster mushrooms. Divine!

Pre dinner prawns

Tonight the wind is howling, the cat curled up in a blanket on the couch, the fire is white hot and we have had a lovely dinner cooked by our daughter, Holly. (She has excused herself and is now down loading pictures of her amazing tour of Europe).

She cooked beer battered prawns as an entree. The secret is to use a flavoursome beer, preferably a dark one.

Beer Battered Prawns

Any amount of prawns you want to cook – defrost well and thoroughly dry, with a paper towel.

Holly pre made the batter at least an hour before she cooked the prawns.



1 cup self raising flour

½ cup cornflour

1 ½ cups full strength malt beer

Salt and peper to taste

Sift all flours into a bowl. Make a well in the middle of the flours. Slowly mix in the beer, stirring only as much as is necessary. Season. Rest before use, at least an hour.

Dredge the prawns in flour before adding them to the batter. Deep fry in hot oil (that is at least hot enough to drop a cube of bread in it first and it browns it within about 15 seconds), making the batter crisp and brown and drain on paper towels before serving. Sprinkle with seasonings of choice, before serving. A tiny pinch of ground cinnamon works well.

Apple Tart

Gaylia came to lunch yesterday and I made a French Apple Tart for dessert. We sat outside in the exquisite sunshine, solving all the world’s problems (and having a good laugh!). One of the best things about having a good friend is that you pick up from the last time you met, as if no time has passed.
I used up the last of my Granny Smith apples to make the topping. The crème patisserie is ideally made in advance and sits well in the fridge for up to two days. I do make my own sweet pastry but if it is not worth the fiddle, buy a prebaked one or make one with pre frozen, sweet, short pastry.

Assembling the tart is simple: into the cooked pastry shell goes the crème patisserie topped with thin sliced half rounds of apple. Cook in a moderate oven until the apples are just turning golden on the edges. Cool completely, then glaze with apricot jam. Eat outside when possible.

Magnificent Magnolia

What is the saying about old ladies and purple hats? My beloved grandmother wore a similar shade of purple in a velvet beret. Whenever, this magnolia blooms, I think of it as Nan’s tree.

There also appears to be more birds in the garden and on the farm, than a month ago. Three large cormorants have been fishing in the stream, ducks were ‘a – splashing’ and I watched little flocks of wax eyes nibbling the grasses, today.

July signals the beginning of spring blossoming and the promise of longer days. But, New Zealand’s fickle spring means we have a lot more dubious weather to endure. I believe when the magnolia is at its most glorious – look out, the big winds will start. So it seems. However, for the moment, the pregnant buds look so soft.

Salad all year round

It is the depth of winter in our sub tropical climate. The coldest temperature so far, has been; -2 degrees Celsius. The skies are amazing. Sunset tonight was a fiery deep pink. The day sky was a brilliant hard blue. The fire is lit and curtains drawn early. It is going to be a chilly night.

But, we have salad! No more nasty packets of mixed salad greens from the supermarket, for us. We have lived off our own freshly picked mix for many months. I threw seeds into the once were, rose bush containers, lightly sprinkled compost and water over the seeds and voila, they grew! We have Kings Seeds’ varieties of mesclun mix, rocket (arugula), fine herbs like cress and coriander and baby basil but that has turned up its toes with the super duper frosts we have had this week. I pick out the coriander for the Asian dishes we enjoy and add cress to egg omelettes.

My favourite salad dressing of the day is an equal quantity of freshly squeezed apple juice and orange juice and a smidgeon of wasabi paste, mixed into it.

For dinner, I am counter attacking chilly temperatures with the last of our Jalapeno chilli.

Plateau and the Chateau

One hour and a bit’s drive from the steaming cliffs of Turangi and you are on the Desert Road. The volcanic landscape and sheer desolation makes one appreciate man’s insignificant power in comparison to the forces of nature.

Mount Ruapehu, is the most active at present and the most popular skiing destination, with two ski fields on either side of the mountain. A magnificent hotel chateau is also located at the bottom of Mount Ruapehu, along with numerous other accommodation facilities, for skiers.

Mount Ngauruhoe, is the conical steep sided mountain in the middle of the trio of mighty peaks and to its right is Mount Tongariro.

At the far end of the Desert Road is New Zealand’s largest army base, Waiouru township. For us, Waiouru marks half way in our drive from Katikati to Wellington. Here, there is a magnificent army museum conveniently located on the outskirts of town. (I am proud to have personal connections associated with the museum and to say, I come from ‘Army Family’. So, I like stopping there, even if is just a wee stop, to visit the spotless facilities – you know what I mean!)

Middle Earth

Roger’s mother is not well, so we drove down the North Island, to Wellington. The drive, for two hours was in fog conditions until we arrived at the town of Turangi, a trout fisherman’s Mecca. The town is also a staging post before National Park. Much snow, skiing delights and tired skiers can retreat to the hot springs and soak wary limbs in the numerous thermal springs in the area.

However, one place is potentially not a retreat where I would sleep comfortably or anywhere near it. At the lookout,below the steaming cliffs, that tower over the road and the little picturesque village of Waihi (seen from afar!). The village flanks the western side of Lake Taupo, on a winter’s morning, for all its swirling, misty waters.

Apparently, a series of earthquakes and the threat of a major landslide had meant the village was evacuated a couple of years ago. The whole place has ‘Lord of the Rings’ written all over it. It is incredibly atmospheric and eerie in a timeless way. The fact casual visitors are not allowed to venture into the village makes it all the more intriguing.

Just for Laughs

“I only go to places to watch other people laugh - to see how silly they are.” I have just heard that on TV. Far out! Where do they live? Who are these people sensors?

Laughs – Roger sent me a transcript of a girl in Ireland ringing a demolition company – “Could you please, be blowing up my school, with all the teachers in it, I live in Dublin; they give us extra homework on Fridays and everything.” Hoax, for sure. But after my blog yesterday, life in paradise, violins humming – that evening’s NZ newspapers were full of bad people doing bad stuff, whatever age and more frequently, than they used to. God does not smite them down like he did in my day, or so it seems.

My favourite joke – a man drives into a town and he has a trailer hitched on - full of penguins. The car and trailer break down and a Good Samaritan stops. The parties agree; the kindly soul will take the penguins to the zoo. Two hours later, the man sees a line up of penguins outside the movie theatre. He stops and asks the Good Samaritan, “What is happening?” He replies, “Well you gave me enough money to take them to the zoo and the movies too!” Lame, I know, but clean.

Tauranga for lunch

After a sparkling, crisp start to the morning, Viv and I departed for the Mount. We pass joggers in all their earnestness, by the droves, and walkers of all ages. What a beautiful holiday destination it is, in all seasons.

photo from: davidwallphoto.com

Some hardy folk were camping under the lee of the mountain. Those of a certain age; the retirees, choose to holiday in large vehicles. You know, the RV’s with ‘Dunroamin’ or ‘Lazydayz’, emblazoned across the front. They all look so happy, clutching their corrugated cups of latte.

So, off we trot for our fix of a cup full of flat white; meeting up with a school friend of Viv’s and her sister too. When someone is home to New Zealand from abroad, the conversation twists a little and I start to reflect on how we are so very lucky. I appreciate the temperate weather that allows flowers to blossom, all year round. But, most importantly, the freedom we enjoy in our slice of paradise.

photo from: here

I came home and noticed the winter flowers in bloom; pansies, cactus, jade plant, roses, camellias, violets and day lilies, in my garden. And some weather confused avocado trees and cherry blossoms that should not be out in flower, for at least another six weeks!

Our daily bread

My sister Viv stayed the night recently. She came down from Auckland with two loaves of the most delicious Pandora Auckland produced French bread. It was pre baked and needed just 10 minutes in a 180 degree Celsius oven, to bake off completely. So I served it with the Fielday’s soup, I have made a few times now, because it is a total no brainer.

Potato and Cheese Soup

• 500gm peeled golden potatoes, diced

• 3 cloves of crushed garlic

• 1 onion – diced

• 25gm butter

• Pinch of cayenne pepper

• 1 litre of chicken stock

• 100gm tasty cheese

• Cream to taste for those with no cholesterol problem

Chop up the onion and garlic and add the pinch of cayenne pepper to the butter and sweat them off for 5 or so, minutes. (I do it outside on the BBQ gas ring, because onions and leeks do have lingering smells, if cooked in the kitchen.)

Then add the potatoes and stock. Simmer until tender. When cooked, blend with a stick blender. Add the grated cheese and reheat. And cream, if you dare.

Bevan’s Party

Our neighbour, Bevan, turned 80. The ‘Village’, as we call it, is had a little party for him. I volunteered to do nibbles and the dessert cake. It was a cold day with a dark threatening sky, shopping bags full of stuff I do not normally buy, the wailing cat and an excuse to turn the oven up high? I was not unhappy.

So, on the menu; 1980’s Asparagus Dip, an absolute favourite, with lots of people but a total non real, foodie treat, I am almost embarrassed to admit to trotting it out for friends to share. Next, I make a 1990’s, Salmon Mousse with amazingly; fresh dill and fresh lemon juice.

photo from here

Asparagus Dip
• 1 packet Onion Soup mix (cringe)
• 1 tin of asparagus spears (double cringe)
• 1 tsp curry powder
• 1 tsp English mustard powder
• 250gms cream cheese
• ¼ cup mayonnaise

Place in food processor until smooth. Serve with melba toast.


Salmon Dip
Pay a packet and buy a fresh salmon fillet, poach it gently, until there are about 2 cups of salmon
OR, get real, and buy a tin of nice salmon, remove the skin and bones and drain the juices

photo from here

• 1 Tbsp lemon juice
• Splash of Tabasco sauce
• ¼ cup mayonnaise
• 1 tsp sweet paprika
• 2 tbsp finely chopped dill
• 1 Tbsp finely grated onion
• 1 cup of firm, until peaked – whipped cream
• 1 Tbsp gelatine
• ¼ cup salmon juice
• 1 cup of boiling water

Process the can of salmon and finely fork it over and put it in the fridge.
Then, whip the cream until soft peaks form and put it in the fridge.
Make up the mix of onion, lemon juice, mayonnaise, paprika, dill.
Take the salmon juice and tablespoon of gelatine and gently stir until the gelatine is dissolved. Cool until room temperature. Add the cup of boiling water. Cool and place in the fridge for 20 minutes.

Gently fold in the onion dill etc. mix and add salmon flakes and whipped cream and fold through. Place in a terrine tin until chilled.

I served the terrine on a bed of fresh baby salad leaves with a few caper berries on top.

Elephant Mint

Roger loves mushy peas with plenty of butter and mint. So, the night before the trio of frosts, I happened upon a strange stem of mint. It is six times bigger than all of the surrounding plants and yet still delicate, not woody and tough. I am trying to get it to form roots and who knows; maybe I might make my fortune at the Farmer’s Markets?

I joked to my neighbour that this place was a ‘Findhorn’, with gigantic vegetables and kindly spirits that tend the crops. Until, I Googled references to Findhorn and all my memories of Psych 301 and Maslow’s theories bit me on the nose. I read in Frank MacHovec’s review, that the prefix ‘eco’, was considered a chameleon word and that new age theories had been responsible for the demise of folk attending churches and political forces existed in the community of Findhorn. Heavy stuff!

All very interesting - if existentialism is your bag.

Rotten Eggs

photo from http://www.rotorua.co.nz/

Most people associate the thermal wonderland city of Rotorua as the place that stinks of eggs. Sulphur smells are all pervading in certain parts of the city and hardly noticeable, in others. Yesterday, I went to have lunch with a dear friend and decided to take a few photos of the free attractions (as opposed to the hideously overpriced ‘tourist traps’) and stopped at Kuirau Park. The park is in the lee of the hospital hill and near the lake front. It is absolutely fascinating. Last time I stopped there, I am sure there were not as many volcanic reminders? I do recall, nine years ago, a surge of mini eruptions in the park but have not been aware of too many since?

photo from: www.geonet.org.nz

Enclosed boiling water pools, bubbly mud pools and hissing fumaroles course through and under the walkways. The city residents seem oblivious to the limb threatening let alone life threatening menaces as the walk through the park, carrying groceries. A state of the art playground is just a few metres from hell’s spleen being vented. But the quaintest curiosity; was the tiny covered building over a pool, for people to dabble their toes in the hot mineral waters. Do they do this at lunchtime on their breaks or do class lots of smelly children come down to wash their feet accompanied by over wrought teachers or is it one of the healing treatments left over from the days when the hospital was famous for its thermal hydrotherapy applications? The best answer is probably that a former altruistic body of city councillors just thought it would be a nice thing to have in the park.

Fieldays

What a wonderful evocative word! Every year in June, Mystery Creek (another great name) hosts, on average around 30,000 visitors, over a period of four days, to view the Southern Hemisphere’s largest display of agricultural products.

Everything is to scale; the massive computerised John Deere tractor costs more than a small neighbourhood to buy. Contrast that, with three for a dollar, finger puppets.

So Saturday is deemed ‘Townie’s day’. They arrive, as a generalisation; over dressed folk carrying lengths of plastic cow prods with over indulged toddlers astride cute designer plywood bikes peruse the stands with overzealous enthusiasm. Mum has bought the ‘styley’ de rigueur gumboots with pretty little flowers all over them.

Real farmers wear thick soled sneakers (they paved the main roads, a few years ago, so plodding through mud all day, has long gone) and buy their gumboots from the Skellerup tent and thick socks from the Swandri tent.

Around lunchtime, it is the tractor pull competition time and townies and country folk alike, congregate to watch the big machines race up and down muddy paddock, against the clock. I think it is the noise that really attracts the attention. Nothing is quite like watching the grunty V engines, revving up – “stirs the old blood, I’d say”.

photos from http://www.fieldays.co.nz/

Muesli (or Granola) Bars & Muesli

I would suggest buying them is going to cost you a lot of money, for something so easy to make at home and KNOWING what goes in them, especially when there are little children in the house, is very important.

I make a muesli mix for Strathmore Lodge guests and add and subtract ingredients depending on seasonal availability or whether I have nuts, dehydrated apples or feijoas or I resort to buying some cranberry raisins!

Lately, I just add whatever I can find. Recently, I made a snack for us to take to the National Fieldays.

Muesli Bars

• 4 cups of still crunchy and fresh cereal (Special K – actually)
• 1 cup of a mixture of coconut threads, pumpkin seeds, sunflower seeds, cranberry raisins and sesame seeds, and home grown walnuts
• Place in a large bowl and add the following mix:
• 100gm butter
• ¼ cup manuka honey (or a nice fruity honey)
• ½ cup brown sugar

Heat in a small pot until it reaches soft ball stage (this is where having a thermometer really takes out the pain of cooking with sugar). Then pour it all over the dry mix, stir well and pour into a brownie pan at about 2 cm thick depth.

Muesli

Adapted from Peter Gordon’s recipe: Arrange in a big bowl and pour heated liquid honey, oil, and mix all well. Then spread on 2 (lined with baking paper), baking trays for about 20 minutes at 150 degree C heat.

• 500gm large oats 
• 50gm pumpkin seeds 
• 50gm sunflower seeds 
• 4 tbpns sesame seeds 
• 50gm long threaded coconut 
• 150gm manuka honey – heat with the oil until runny
• 100ml mild vegetable oil like sunflower

White Island

From a series of failed mining ventures; to an award winning adventure tourism destination - this island is recommended on any ‘must do’ list, when visiting New Zealand. This is part of a published article, I wrote for World Heritage, China.

White Island is a continuously active island volcano that defies description. Its terrain is more alien and primal than an imagined lunar experience. Technically, the island is the tip of a massive underwater volcano, formed between 100,000 to 200,000 years ago, situated along the line of the subduction of the Pacific tectonic plate beneath the Indo-Australian plate.

Tourists and scientists are fascinated with ‘Whakaari’, the Maori name for White Island. Loosely translated, the word means the island disappears and reappears from view. As the island is a mere 48 kilometres off the East Coast of the North Island, it is often misty, shrouded in rain cloud or steam and cannot be seen from shore. Other days, it stands out on the horizon, a stark profile puffing out plumes of steamy cloud high in the air.

Only a few accredited tour operators are allowed to take tourists to the island. Most visitors arrive by boat but for some, the view from their helicopter arrival is breathtaking. The extremely popular and award winning Pee Jay Tours trip to White Island departs from Whakatane.

Tonnes of gases are emitted from the island’s crater, vents and fumaroles every day. And, should there be a rock eruption you better hide or run. Ash clouds, a quivering ground, static electricity surges, sonic booms and raining acid lumps are not unusual but the activity is fairly consistently at a low level.”

After just over an hour’s journey, the boat nudges in towards the shore, close to the rustic wharf remains near the site of the 1914 sulphur mining factory ruins. Inflatable IRB boats ferry tourists to shore and the extremely informative and well narrated tours begin. The guides take small groups towards the horseshoe shaped crater emphasising the need for caution and safety at all times on the island.

Maori interest in the island was well established before Europeans’ arrival but not for mining sulphur. Europeans decided to exploit the sulphur deposits.

The focus of their mining venture was to quarry and ship raw sulphur rocks to a facility seventy kilometres away at the Port of Tauranga’s Sulphur Point. There it was to be processed for use as fertiliser. Conditions for the workers were extreme and harsh. No fresh drinkable water was available on the island and the men had to make do with water stored in old petrol containers shipped in with their supplies. They resorted to emulating the Maori food storage practice of preserving meat in fat. Ten years later, the Great Depression hit and again another company went bankrupt. The Buttle family retains ownership of the island and adheres to strict eco friendly preservation principles, opening it for visitors and run by a trust.

Tertiary institutions of learning and overseas scientists regularly monitor the island. Several seismographs and a permanent camera observe a 24 hour vigil over the volcano. Links are associated between seismic activity on White Island and a recent swarm of earthquakes in the small seaside town of Matata, lying in a direct line between Mount Edgecumbe (in 1986 this was the epicentre of a mark six Richter scale sized earthquake) and White Island and the major North Island volcanoes: Mount Ruapehu, Tongariro and Ngauruhoe. Shaky residents are feeling almost daily, earthquakes around the mark four on the Richter scale. No doubt constantly reviewing their resident volcano’s activities and going regularly online to sites such as http://www.geonet.org.nz/.

For visitors to White Island they notice that few trees exist and very few birds are seen. Any seagulls hapless enough to dabble in the acidic streams will either lose their feathers or stain them yellow. Three large colonies of gannet birds nest on the extremes of the island and call a noisy and smelly welcome to visitors to Crater Bay. For feasting purposes, Maori tribes had in the past, gathered the flightless adolescent stormy petrel birds called ‘muttonbirds’ that live in burrows underground. Today, muttonbirds are still a delicacy if rather fatty and rich to eat.

In total contrast to the wild and potentially violent and harmful volcanic land based conditions, the sea especially upwind of the volcano is richly abundant with life. Around the island’s coastline, tropical species of fish life often stray into the waters and occasionally snakes and turtles will appear. But they are rare visitors. Instead, schools of maomao, demoiselles and snapper are frequently disturbed by scuba and snorkel divers.

Temperate waters host forests of kelp, delicate corals and pretty anemones. In the nooks and crannies of underwater rocks, large and small moray eels and giant crayfish hide. The region has not yet been accorded a Marine Reserve title where a ‘no take’ zone would prevent potential over fishing. And so for the moment, to the delight of game fishermen they are able to enjoy battling tuna and marlin.

White Island is unique and offers more than any man made theme park could ever do in fear factor. It is truly a world heritage site, one worth studying and one that puts mere mortals in perspective.