Greed, gluttony and sloth

You know you’ve had a great weekend away when you've managed to commit most of the fun Deadly Sins.

Despite my love of food and piggish appetite, the thought of getting fat horrifies me so I generally employ a fair degree of self-control with respect to eating and exercise. That is, until I go on holiday. For some reason, holidays bring out my inner fat slob and this weekend was no exception.

The kids and I spent the weekend at Mangawhai with our friends Lindsay and Freeman, and their two kids. In addition to being good company, Lindsay and Freeman are avid foodies, so I knew it was going to be just my kind of a trip.

Mangawhai is only an hour and a half’s drive from Auckland but we managed to take nearly four hours getting there, thanks to two foodie stops and some grocery shopping en route. The Ginger Cafe in Warkworth’s main street turned out to be worth a visit, and a trip north is never complete without stopping for cheese and salty liquorice at the Dutch cheese shop in Kaiwaka.

Upon arrival I opened some absinthe. I’ve heard all about the Green Fairy, but have never had occasion to try it and never been willing to commit to buying a large bottle just in case it was revolting. The perfect opportunity presented itself when I recently spotted a miniature bottle in my local liquor store.

At 60 per cent proof, it was - unsurprisingly – very strong. As for the taste; herbal probably best describes it. It was okay, I guess, but I can’t say I’ll be hurrying to buy more.

Our post-arrival dinner comprised vast amounts of potato crisps, cheese, even vaster amounts of red wine and cognac, and – late in the evening – a lamb tagine. I couldn’t face breakfast the next morning.

Although it’s a small place, with a permanent population of around 900, Mangawhai’s beachside location and relatively close proximity to Auckland has enabled a small yet vibrant food culture to develop.

First on our ‘to do’ list was checking out the Saturday morning market in the village hall. The foul weather resulted in there being fewer stalls than usual. I had to admire the owners of one of only two outdoor stalls, huddling in a sodden tent mired in a sea of mud, and I felt a bit mean not at least buying a handful of curly kale or a bunch of fresh violets.

There were maybe 20 stalls inside, selling an interesting range of (mostly) food items: freshly roasted coffee; locally grown olive oil; crusty sour dough bread; home-baked cakes, savouries and morning teas; locally made sausages, pates and salamis; cheeses; pickles and jams; and a range of fruit and veges.

From there it was off to the fabulous Bennetts complex across the road.

Even if you’re not a chocoholic, the chocolate shop is well worth a visit. True to form I went for the most unusual flavours I could find and can pronounce that thyme chocolate tastes surprisingly good, as does cardamom chocolate. The fresh coriander chocolate was disappointingly bland.

After buying up large, we headed upstairs to a delicatessen, where I zeroed in on a display of chilli sauces. The man behind the counter advised me that the top of the range was New Zealand’s hottest sauce, made from the world’s hottest chilli, Bhut Jolokia.

I couldn’t resist asking for a sample. Warning me that it was unbelievably hot, he cautioned Freeman and I to taste only the tiniest bit.

Actually, it was okay and we both guzzled the sample and hoovered up seconds. I didn’t even have to pretend that my eyes weren’t watering. The sauce was actually pretty hot, but I’ve had far worse in the form of an almost unbearably firey Mexican chilli sauce I bought at Auckland market some years ago.



I won’t bore you with all the details, other than to say we ate a lot on Saturday.

  

It might have only been

10 degrees but it's never

too cold for ice cream.

Undeterred, we returned to Mangawhai village that evening to try dinner at Bennetts Cafe. It was a lovely meal. The setting was charming – Italianate, complete with a large open fire. The service was friendly and very obliging. And the food was nice too. I sampled the lamb shank in a tomato stew, which was meltingly good. My roast chicken with Puy lentils and watercress aioli was very nice, although I’d have preferred the chicken to be falling off the bone.

Despite being full, Miss Piggy couldn’t resist concluding the meal with cinnamon doughnuts and rich chocolate dipping sauce topped with a large pillow of whipped cream. Yum.

The weather remained foul on Sunday so I barely moved from the couch. Most of the day was spent lazing about reading, doing the crossword, talking and eating: chocolate, coffee, cheese, crisps, bread, leftover tagine and anything else we could lay our hands on.

 

We dragged ourselves out for a bracing and rather sodden walk along the beach after lunch, warming ourselves up with instant soup, chunks of ciabatta and the last of the cheese upon our return.

All too soon, it was time to return home. As I got in the car it dawned on me that a weekend of gluttony, a longish journey and skin-tight jeans and were not the best combination.

Rory's roasted marshmallow.

And no, I didn't eat it.

Surreptitiously, I pulled my jersey down and undid my trousers so I could drive home without passing out.