Oyster stuffing

Eating alone, what do people do? Can you just sit there by yourself and eat? Me, if there’s no-one to talk to, I have to read. So, down the Sounds by myself, I browsed one of (what I assume were) my grand-mother’s cookbooks, The Lily Wallace New American Cookbook, 1947. Didn’t stumble across anything I’d want to cook, but some things that struck me as DEEPLY bizarre. Oyster stuffing, for instance. It requires 25 oysters! And what on earth would you stuff it into??? Some sort of surf ‘n’ turf combination? Which I’ve always thought vile, anyway. No, it’s baffling. And leads to three possible conclusions. 1. Cooking styles have changed enormously in the last sixty years. 2. Americans are different from the rest of us. 3. Don’t eat alone.

Obituary for a loaf

It all began with Ben Murphy. I’m sure it was he, star of that ‘70s Western Alias Smith & Jones. For some reason he came to NZ, filming perhaps, and discovered Vogel’s bread. The unsliced loaf. Loved it, raved about it, took it back to California. A long time ago, but we were eating that bread at home way back then. And since then it’s become a bit of an icon. When living abroad I used to look forward to, among other things, my first slice of fresh Vogel’s with butter & Vegemite on visits back. And then, more recently, those TV ads showing ex-pat Kiwis & their Vogel’s loaves … always unsliced. Hiding it from flatmates. The couple in the New York loft … get over it, Michael … she’d touched his bread, he was sulking. Oh, I could identify!

 

But now, okay, I admit defeat. My campaign to save the Vogel’s Original unsliced loaf has failed. It’s not back on the shelves, despite lots of people phoning the customer service number, and a letter to the editor. Idly Googling I discovered that an Auckland newspaper columnist had also picked up the issue, in passing, but all to no avail. Such a shame. At least I know I’m not alone … even had support from the UK & Australia where, apparently, the industrial bakers have also got rid of the unsliced loaf.

 

So now, what to do? A personal boycott perhaps. Not that my hundred, hundred and fifty loaves a year are going to be missed by the corporate that’s upset my breakfast habits, but at least I’ll feel I’m making a statement. Take that, Goodman Fielder Wattie!

La lutta continua

Well, kicked off my campaign to save the unsliced Vogel’s Original loaf by emailing all sorts of people in my address book, asking them to ring the 0800 number (but only if they share my fondness for that bread … can’t be accused of manufacturing dissent!). Good response, with initial feedback over the first 24 hours along the lines of ‘they’ve had lots of complaints, are likely to start making it again’. But!  Always a but. The following day a friend rang to say she’d been told that the customer service response had changed. Now, no longer low consumer demand but increasing production complexities … whatever that means! It’s harder to bake unsliced bread??? So, the spin doctors have been at work. What happens now?

Yeah, right!

So, I rang the customer service number for Vogel’s bread. Helpful woman at the end of the line who said the only reason for discontinuing the unsliced loaf was low consumer demand. Well, if that’s the case, why does it always seem to be the first to sell out???!!! I feel a campaign coming on!

Save the Vogel’s loaf!

Have just returned from the supermarket. “Have you got any unsliced?” I asked the guy working in the bread section, when I couldn’t see my favourite loaf among the Vogel’s bread selection. “No, they’ve stopped making it,” he said. “Again?” “Permanently,” he assured me. What! The last time the manufacturers did this they trotted out some overly plump ‘celebrity’ cook who prattled on along the lines of, oh yes, it’s a good thing, people are so busy nowadays, they haven’t got time to slice bread. Oh, and they don’t like crumbs. To which the only adult response was to take a deep breath before yelling GET REAL at the TV screen. However, last time the public complained, we got our unsliced loaf back. What’ll happen this time???  I’m going to ring their 0800 100 538 number and complain on Monday. Hope many others do the same!

Culinary crime #4

I thought it was time for a gripe, and here’s one I’ve been storing up. Stone fruit in NZ. Making the nectarine tart the other day reminded me. Even if, okay, the nectarines from the supermarket that day were ripe. And even though Lawrence did bring some decent peaches from Hawke’s Bay a couple of weeks ago. But these are the exceptions, not the norm. The norm is fruit that looks fine, but is so disappointing. Rock-hard, tasteless, a waste of money really. I sometimes think that we get to buy, lucky us, last season’s produce, fruit that has been kept in cool store for almost 12 months. Probably not, but it baffles me that it’s so difficult to find tree-ripened fruit in NZ in the summer. The country’s not that big, after all; it should be possible to get fruit from orchard to shop without major problems. Whereas by contrast, ah, by contrast … time for a memory … almost 4 years ago we stayed in a charming village in France, Minerve, a former Cathar stronghold, only reachable by a single lane stone bridge … so charming that we stayed an extra night. And there, for breakfast one morning in the restaurant, looking down into a dry riverbed, at white-linen-dressed tables, we were presented with a solitary glowing peach, sitting on white china, smelling of summer.  And when you bit into it, the juices ran down your chin. The way it ought to be.

Culinary crime #3

Thailand has great food, everyone knows that. And you don’t have to travel to Thailand to find first-rate Thai food either. So, when you’re in the country itself, it’s reasonable to have certain expectations … put it this way, you certainly don’t expect to be served dishes containing frozen mixed vegetables! But that’s what happened the other night at the Whole Earth Restaurant here in Chiang Mai. It’s been a popular eating spot (for tourists at least) for many years. Can’t imagine why. We ordered four dishes, each dreadful. So, if you’re heading to Chiang Mai, be warned … avoid that restaurant like the plague.

Culinary crime #2

You think they’d know better. Stall holders at the farmers’ market selling produce – tomatoes – pre-packed in plastic bags. I suppose they’ve decided it’s easier, more efficient, and for them at least it probably is – fewer items to weigh, saves time, time is money, all that kind of un-foodie thinking. But don’t shoppers at markets enjoy the experience of selecting exactly what they want, isn’t that part of the point of shopping there? … that day I was looking for big, ripe ‘beefsteak’ tomatoes for the insalata tricolore. Smaller salad tomatoes just don’t do the same job.

 

Still, at least they weren’t storing tomatoes in the fridge! That really would have been a crime! 

Culinary crime #1

There are certain things that shouldn’t be allowed to happen to food. We were at a café, Wild Oats, in Carterton … this was the day we didn’t get fresh black currants. There was a good-looking salmon quiche on display … I ordered a slice for lunch. But when it arrived at the table what had they done? They had microwaved it! Barely edible as a result, and what an insult to the cook. The egg filling turns rubbery, the pastry becomes soggy. Microwaves may have their place, but not in my kitchen. And why on earth people who are supposed to be serving decent food to the public are misusing them, I have no idea. I want to stamp my foot and shout, “It shouldn’t be allowed!”