For the last month, I’ve had the good fortune to spend two days a week touring the provincial South Island. My partner in crime has been one of New Zealand’s most entertaining female MCs and the undisputed queen of talkback radio, Kerre Woodham.
For our sins we agreed to host a series of Ladies Nights for CRT (Combined Rural Traders). Each week, we met outside the Hertz Car Rental kiosk at the airport closest to the town we were heading to. We’d take turns to drive, while the other navigated. We’re both quite inadequate in that department.
As you can imagine, there is no need for a radio in the car as when touring with someone who talks and writes for a living, there is plenty of conversation. We have known each other for over twenty years, however our paths have only really crossed again recently. And what fun that has been.
The Ladies Nights require us to entertain between 3-500 of the nicest rural women you could possibly meet. A typical travelling road show, CRT retail outlets and sponsors ride alongside us and set up their wares for sale at each event. It’s was a sell-out tour, however it was hardly Madison Square Garden, Wembley Stadium or even the Vecta Arena. No, this was true heartland stuff, pulling up to places such as the Hornby Working Men’s Club, the Balclutha Memorial Hall or the Ashburton Hotel.
Kerre had a habit of introducing herself as ‘my fluffer’ at the beginning of each show, which couldn’t be further from the truth. I’ve yet to work with anyone who comes close to being so gifted as an MC. From the outset, Kerre commanded the audience with confidence, authority, wit and the absolute brilliance of a natural storyteller. I bet most in the crowd would not have had a 3-hour facial workout like that in a long time. She literally had everyone (and I mean everyone) in stitches from the word go.
For an hour or so in the middle of it all I prattled on about cooking, restaurants and products, while showing them how to butterfly a pork belly and stuff it with oregano, fennel seeds and lemon zest. The whole show involved a ton of laughs and a bit of cooking insight, with a side of retail therapy to keep everyone happy.
As much as I enjoyed the performances each night, it was the days surrounding the events that I savoured just as much. Driving from town to town, taking in as many secondary country roads as possible, is something I never tire of. Nor does Kerre for that matter. Spectacular scenery around each corner, undiscovered rivers, stands of native bush, old barns and farm houses – there is never a dull view.
Of course, these two city dwellers were always looking for sustenance, because driving through our magnificent heartland with the windows down sure makes you hungry and thirsty. Or maybe, it was just our inquisitive nature to want to stop in as many of these small rural settlements as possible. To drop in on the tearooms and ‘cafs’ of small town New Zealand is nothing but an absolute joy. With an assured warm greeting and little chance of a queue, there is always time for a good old natter. The coffee can be a little hit and miss, but this can be forgiven when it comes to the counter food.
Kerre has a slight fascination, or mild addiction, to what is often called ‘Southland Sushi’, commonly known to most in these parts as the humble (yet often extraordinarily delicious) Cheese Roll! It’s a classic. Oozing melted tasty cheddar, Maggi onion soup mix and diced onion, among other secret ingredients, once toasted, these cheese rolls are then lathered with a decent lick of melted butter to finish.
As much as the tearooms and cafeterias of the mainland knock out a wonderful array of savoury delights, it was the baking sections that continually rocked our sweet-tooth. Southerners have baking, especially slices, well and truly sewn up. I have never seen anything like it. The variety was extraordinary and the taste, for the most part, rich and delicious. They’re the perfect partner with a cuppa tea or a cuppa Joe for that matter. However, the big difference between slices of the South and their Northern counterparts is definitely their size. As we travelled further South, I was convinced that a far more appropriate name for a ‘slice’ was indeed a ‘slab’.
It is reassuring that our wonderful New Zealand tradition of baking is not only alive and well in the deep South, but is simply flourishing. Like everything, and everybody we came across on our travels, the South is all about generosity, be that in landscape, the conversation, the spirit of the people, or in the massive ‘slices’ proudly sold up and down the divide. I’m convinced there is a coffee table book in the making for someone extolling the virtues of this Southern phenomenon – the simple title of ‘Slices of the South’ has a great ring to it!
