Remembering the Pasty

One of my memories of growing up was sometimes going in to Ironwood, usually with Mom, and shopping for clothes, or to the Piggly Wiggly for groceries, and later having lunch.  

We couldn't afford the luxury of eating out very often, so when we did, it was usually at a restaurant that fit Mom's budget. Happily, Joe's Pasty Shop was a place that offered a filling meal at a bargain price. I loved it there. 

The day I'm remembering was a winter day, but it must have been toward spring, because the sun was making the snow sloppy. We had had a fairly heavy snowfall the night before, and the streets were still half blocked by snow that had been plowed into the center of most streets but had not yet been hauled away. The sidewalks too had snow plowed over at least half of their width and the pedestrians shuffling along had to stay very close to the buildings if they wanted to keep their feet dry. This meant that we kids had to follow Mom single file as she crossed South Lowell Street and carefully made her way up the block to Joe's. I had glasses at the time because I remember them instantly steaming up as I stepped into the warmth and aromas that greeted us as we crossed Joe's threshold, and like the good Yooper kids we were, immediately stamped our feet to knock off any snow on our boots. Mom herded us into one of the booths that were along one wall. 

One of the great things about Joe's was that you never had to wonder what to eat. It was a PASTY shop afterall. What else would anyone expect to eat there? Mom decided how many pasties to order and how to divy them up among us. I remember whining going round the tables as we all assured her that we could eat a whole pasty. I remember getting my own pasty since I was the oldest. And a glass of chocolate milk. Life didn't get much better than that. 

Now, here I am 50 + years later in a country where I have yet to find anything resembling a proper (U. P. style) pasty. You'd think they'd be all over the place. On the rare occasion that I found what is called a pasty, and purchased one, it turned out to be quite different than what I had hoped it would be.

I've got to give the Kiwis credit though. They sure like a good meat pie and they have quite a few varieties to choose from. Below are a few that I've run across.

Chunks of chicken, spinich I think and onions. I didn't notice any mushrooms.

Not surprisingly, this one is beef, spinach I think and onions.

Here they are, nicely baked

And sliced open. It's a puff pastry crust that is quite flakey.

Close up of the beef wellington

This is a meat pie (and cookie) shop in our local mall.  Lots of varieties.

Jeanne had a chicken and I chose a steak and kidney. 

This is a cold pork pie and it was pruchased at the Green Dragon Inn in Hobbiton. Quite good although the dark colored gel between the meat and the crust was Very salty.

This is NZ's version of a Cornish Pasty. I found it in a bakery in Glen Eden. Not many places make any sort of pasty.

There is ground beef, onion, peas, carrots, corn and a little potato. It's not bad, but not pasty-like at all. The dough is a puff-pastry like stuff. 

Now, before you feel too bad for me, we do have a solution to my pasty deprivation. Every now and then we make our own. The boys love them. They eat them in the following manner. The pasties are allowed to cool to just above room temperature; we then cut them in half the long way, and the boys pick up and dip each half into ketchup on their plates. Their pasties are smaller ones than the adult's, sized to fit their grip of course.

Just today I suggested to Jeanne that we make another batch soon. When we do, I'm going to make our meal a 'blast from the past' and buy a couple liters of chocolate milk, just so that the boys can enjoy the full pasty experience.  Think I'll wear my Joe's Pasty hoodie too, just for old times sake.                                       -djf

We were having a 'pasty party' when this shot was taken. Note the adult vs kid's size pasties. Also the bowl of mostly eaten sausage pieces I cooked up for an appetizer, and somebodies, (probably Jeanne's) drink on thecountrer. Attending were all the Miles plus Dan's mom Angela and her husband Bruce.  

I thought you said it was winter in New Zealand?

Using the term 'winter,' when you are talking about the season in New Zealand that runs from June through August is misleading. At least it is to those of us who have a lifetime's experience with our Northern Michigan Winters. 

July is the coldest month in New Zealand since we are south of the equator and the seasons are reversed down here. Kiwi July is like January in Michigan, as far as the daylight/nightime ratio, but there are at least a couple of factors that make Kiwi winters much milder than the U.P.'s are.

We are about as far south of the equator as the State of Virginia is north of it. The other big factor is being surrounded by the Tasman Sea and the Pacific Ocean, which keeps us warmer than we otherwise would be.  

The other day, Arram helped me take pictures of the flowers that are growing in the 'dead of winter.' He did a great job. These were all taken on August 14th.

In our front yard

By our fence and mail box

At Summerland Primary

One of the swan plants recently featured in a post about butterflies.

The rest of these photos were taken between the school and our house.

Finally this is our own yard again with oranges still on the tree. They're a bit tart, but so cool to have.

Monarchs in New Zealand (No, the Queen is not visiting.)

It wasn't long after we arrived here that Jeanne and I were pleasantly surprised one day to see an old friend fluttering by. "It's a monarch," we said in unison, and had we been characters in a newspaper comic strip, the reader would also have seen a 'thought bubble' arising from each of us containing a large, bold-font question mark. Whether the question marks indicated our surprise at seeing this particular butterfly, or surprise at uttering exactly the same words at the same moment, would not be explained.  

"I didn't know there were monarchs in New Zealand," we again simultaneously wondered, and smiled as we acknowledged non-verbally that great minds really do think alike, and sometimes apparently, even speak alike. (the thought bubble question marks would be doubled in this second panel) 

This synchronised speaking, I thought fleetingly, can't possibly continue to yet another pair of identical statements and I was right. Jeanne and I returned then to voicing our very own unique sentences and have continued right up to the present day. We have often returned to the subject of monarch butterflies but have never returned to speaking duets again.  

The other day, the solution to the puzzle of how there came to be monarchs in NZ, was revealed to me in stages. 

As we arrived at Summerland Primary to pick up the boys after school one day, I noticed a little girl studying a plant intently. She was looking at a caterpillar that was crawling up a leaf. Realising that it looked very much like a monarch caterpillar, I wondered if the plant was somehow related to the milkweeds back home.  

Fortunately, just about then, Ian, the school groundskeeper came along.  He had been helpful to me in the past. The first time, when he told me about the one-of-a-kind plant Tecomanthe speciosa, and the second time when he provided a tall step ladder after school one day to retrieve Arram's glider air plane from the  top of one of the covered walkways.  

"Oh, that's a swan plant," he said, when I asked. "Monarch caterpillars eat them." 

Once I got home I found that the swan plant, and the giant swan plant, Gomphocarpus fruticosus and physocarpus respectively, had been brought to New Zealand in the late 1800's. Coincidentally, so had the monarch. I checked that story out in Te Ara, the Maori Encyclopedia, to see if it's reporting agreed with other sources. It did. 

I found too, that the swan plant is indeed related to our own milkweed at the family level and contains cardenolides, just like our milkweed does.  

Here are some photos I took that day.  

There is my little research assistant. she'll probably be a lepidopterist some day. The 'swan plant' is also called the balloon plant for obvious reasons. 

Jeanne has harvested some of the seeds from this plant and hopes to start some in our yard. The boys love monarchs so it would be great to have a (temporary) resident population at our house.  

This one we found along Harvest Drive. It's wings seemed broken or incomplete and after carrying it a while and studying it, these two young scientists left it in the grass again.  -djf

A Kiwi classic; pumpkin soup

There seems to less distinction made here between pumpkins and squash. All these are shown as examples of pumpkins on a NZ vegetable website I visited, although the one I see most often in stores is the whitish one, sitting at approximately 5 o'clock.

My post today is about a staple food here. One of the first foods that the boys were served in day care was pumpkin soup. They accepted it happily then and they love it now. 

Last night, Arram ate three bowls of it. Not long ago at lunch, he asked his mother to measure how fast he could finish a bowl of it. I don't know the results of the timing, but I think the only way he could have done it faster would be if he had been allowed to drink it directly from the bowl and he put off breathing for the duration of the attempt. Such appreciation of a soup is very gratifying to his Grammy who is happily producing yet another batch as I write this. (and Amiri ate 4 bowls, I'm reminded)  

I am not a huge fan. It's okay, but that's about as complimentary as my taste buds will allow me to be. Admittedly, my sixty plus years of considering steaks, ribs, and hot sauces haute cuisine have probably jaded me. I agree that it's hearty, healthy, filling, nutritious and even beautiful.  But it's the plain jane of soups. Now, the chili we had the other night, that's another story. Don't get me started. I could go on for hours.




I took a few photos while Jeanne prepared some today.

Remembering my recent post about eating like a Kiwi, I thought I'd try to keep you thinking along those lines with this addition to your recipe book.  

We like to buy chicken bones at Aussie Butcher to form a base for the soup.  You could use a whole chicken or any sort of chicken meat, but you don't want much meat, just chicken flavor.

Here are the ingredients and the proportions Jeanne used. They can vary. Pumpkin soup seems to be a 'fly by the seat of your pants' soup. 

Chop up the celery and the leek coarsely. Add some Lawry's salt and black pepper. Saute until they start to brown in butter. Don't substitute onions for the leek.  It won't be as good. 
(It doesn't have to be Lawry's. That is not a Kiwi seasoning. Regular salt is fine.)

Peel the pumpkin or squash and chop it up a bit. Pull the chicken bones out of the broth. If there is meat on them, pull it off and put it back in again. 

Put the squash into the pot and give it a good boil till the squash is done, then turn it way down and let it simmer low and slow. 

Use whatever you have to blend the soup until it's very smooth. Adjust salt and pepper. 

This picture doesn't look as yellow as the soup actually appears to me. I've had thick soup and thin soup. There is no rule about that. Your preference.
Jeanne made some ham and cheese toasties to go with a mug of this the other day.
Croutons are a good idea, or a basket of garlic bread.
Give it a shot. If you make too much, freeze it.   -djf

High tide at Bethell's Beach

I told you that I'd get back to see how this crack in the headland would splash at high tide. It's not exactly high tide right now, but close enough. 

Here we are back at the 'headland cracks'. Ever since we both crossed the Waitakere River, this girl has been striding along the beach as if she had a purpose. I found that she did. She was coming to check out the 'hole in the wall.'  She's impressed with the display too. Note that from this angle, and even at this distance, we can see right through the headland to the water on the other side.

She watched for a while, but then moved on. Here are both, quiet for the moment.

Okay, are you ready? Wait for it...

Whuu...

It's interesting that the water billows out from the bottom first. You can see water higher up, back in the recesses of the crack, and the whole thing is just about to burst up and out.

...uummmppp! 

 Like that!

And then it all splashes around for a moment or two and disappears. And this has been going on 24/7 for how long?  Wow.

"Wait a minute," you say. "What's all this about crossing the Waitakere River?"  What Waitakere River?  

If you look back to my first post about the spurting crack, and click again on the google maps link, you'll see the river shown. (maybe you noticed it then) It's best on the 'earth' setting. It's even labeled.  And you'll see how it passes the caves and flows into the Tasman.  

This first picture is of Allie and the boys walking along it back in '12. They're walking upriver. The caves I showed you recently are downriver from this point.  

Personally, the term 'river' makes the Waitakere sound bigger than it is. If Amiri  were to turn and walk across it here, the water would come to about his mid-thighs, at most. 

From this angle, you can see that this 'river' is more of a creek, brook, steam or at most, a rivulet. 

Whatever you call it, at it's 'mouth' it flows down over the beach and it needs to be crossed to get to the north side of Bethell's Beach where the 'cracks' are. It's very easy to cross. The sandy beach gives a very comfortable streambed to splash across.  

At high tide something interesting happens.

Every now and then, one of the larger of the high tide waves will 'run' up the river. Because the river water is moving downstream, and the high tide wave is trying to go upstream, there is a continuous 'rolling' of the wave and it travels up the river quite slowly. (slowly when compared to its speed coming on to the beach that is)   

1. Here we are at the 'mouth' of the Waitakere River. Downstream water on the far right meets upstream wave from, sort of, the left.  

2. This is about 25 yards upstream from the previous picture.  Here comes the wave. You can see that the wave is also moving across the higher beach area (left side of photo).
Makes me think of the Japanese tsunami videos. Bethell's  next to the river is very flat and the water from high tide waves comes in a long ways. I'll show you in a minute.

3.  Okay, here comes the wave moving toward us in the river. I wish now that I had timed how fast it moved upstream. About two yards per second I'd guess.   

4. And there it goes upstream from us. It slowly diminishes, but not until it is well up the river.

You can see in picture 3 especially, that the wave adds significant water to the river. When one of these high tide waves comes in, you do not want to be crossing the Waitakere. You will be thoroughly wet from water splashing you from two sides at the same time. 

That's not to say it's really dangerous then, just that if you were trying to get across with rolled up pant's legs, you won't make it while remaining dry.

These surfers are about to start across the river as such a high tide wave is coming in. In another 15 feet or so, they'll be in the 'river' channel and about another foot deeper in the water.  

This trio was surfing on O'Neil's where there are no rocks on the beach and where the surf is higher, due, I'm guessing, to the curved shape of the beach. 

Look how far away from the beach we are here.  This last wave just kept coming and coming, finding it's way inland.  No wonder the Japanese tsunami was so devastating. 
I just heard that Japanese scientists are predicting another significant earthquake there soon.  Pray that it doesn't spawn another tsunami. -djf