Thursday, January 19, 2012

Tutaekuri

Now digging up some Tutaekuri to take to Mapau next week. Not my favourite tasting taewa but a crowd pleaser because of its intense purple colouring, and always funny to give the literal translation: Dog shit (not to be confused with the Tutaekuri River in Hawkes Bay where I spent my teen years, trout fishing and camping, and just hanging out).


Another name for these Maori potatoes, from TE Tairawhiti, is Urenika, a transliteration 'Nigger's' ure or penis. [This reminds me of a bizarre argument with a Professor at Otago who was most aggrieved at my (admittedly provocative) use of the word Nigger, rapping the Public Enemy song 'I don't wanna be called Yo Nigga' which has the inimitable Flavour Flav with the lyrical line N.I.G.G.E.R., Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga Nigga!...My challenge to him was how to write the whakapapa of this Maori potato without referring to the racist term which our tipuna had obviously picked up from the whalers and sailors 200 years ago.]

It does look a lot more like dog crap than an African/African-American penis.

Anyways, the garden is now starting to produce at a level I can see saving me money down the local supermarket. Also gifting stuff to friends and whanau, always important. French beans, brocolli, cauliflower, spinach. Tomatoes are ripening, and the scarlet runner beans - one of my favourites because of their beautiful bright red flowers and heavy cropping - and corn well on the way. I've planted some dwarf cornflowers too, wanting the pale blue flowers amongst the greenery and peas straw mulch.


Sunday, January 15, 2012

scrolling garden...


I know it's kinda naff but I'm diurnally (or as often as I can remember) and digitally recording our garden here in Leeston, and will post a slideshow in the top right, scrolling through our seasons.

Sunday, January 08, 2012

Huakaroro

BBQ, with Nana and Koko coming up from Rakaia. Pulled these huakaroro from the sandpit...


My favourite potato, washed, put in cold water, brought to the boil, left a bit, then drained, pat of pata, tote, he reka!

(Yes, those are some stray Tutaekuri I bandicooted from the neighbouring row...'bandicooted'? Term i picked up from Ngai Tahu kaukatua Trevor Howse, pages 8-9 of this newsletter)