Supper World Cup

One of the more interesting parts of this trip to New Zealand for the rugby world cup so far and the most surprising, is meal times. All the camps we are stopping at have communal kitchens, which are very well equipped. Take the one we are on at the moment in Napier, it has about 20 work stations each one consist of a sink, work surface, gas hob with wok burner and an oven. There are banks of microwaves, several large fridge's and freezers, a really nice espresso coffee machine and a great hot water boiler that produces boiling water on demand. But the real bonus is that people traveling around NZ following the rugby occupy these kitchens in the evenings and so they are full of rugby fans. Last night for example we shared our cooking and eating with some Welsh, French, South Africans, Australians, Irish and the much prized but seldom seen the tiny Japanese rugby supporters. We all got chatting obviously about rugby but moved on to other subjects eventually, it was really interesting to watch how the different countries cook.

Two French lads meticulously prepared a visually stunning meal of pasta and lamb steaks. They sat at one end of the large table, laid out their cutlery and placed a small fruit yogurt to the side of the plates ready to be consumed as a dessert. They sat and opened what looked like a very nice bottle of red wine and elegantly tucked in.

Some Welsh speaking fans, (they are the worse of an otherwise fantastic tribe of people) ate baked beans on burnt toast, which filled the air with that, well burnt toast smell. They cracked open can after can of lager and seemed to have a great social time chatting with each other. No one else could join in as we hadn’t got a clue what they were rabbiting on about.

Exactly what the Japanese ate was a bit of a mystery; the preparation and cooking took place at a frantic pace in a flurry of activity that was perfectly coordinated. Then they rushed outside to presumably their camper van in order to eat, which also must have taken place at whirlwind speed as they were back in and frantically washing everything insight, within minutes of leaving. They were clearly having a great time, as although they could not talk to us very much, they simply never stopped smiling.

The Australians gathered outside around the Bar BQ area, even though the temperature was plummeting. They were slapping things on the barbie, drinking beer and generally being very loud.

The South Africans were caught between two worlds, they wanted to be outside showing the Ozzies how to use a Bar BQ, but they also wanted to be inside cooking milk tarts. In the end they ended up moving from outside to the inside and back again, swigging red wine from one hand and holding a pile of salami in the other. It seems they had run out of biltong and was using some particularly spicy salami asa substitute. As for the Irish, they just drank anything they could get their hands on and apart from one of them unwrapping a cold sausage roll I did not see any of them eat. But the one that took the biscuit was of all things an Australian, who was travelling with his family. It turned out that the son was not just a smart Alec, but was indeed a chef. He set about making what smelt and looked an amazing Thai dish. By that I mean he even made fish stock from scratch, which I think you will find in a campsite, is a little pretentious. What seemed to balance the whole thing out was right next to this culinary theatre production, we sat eating sandwiches for supper and I have to say they were very nice and created a minimum of washing up.EndFragment