Maori cuisine's own language

The teenage Stanley Tawa picked up two important souvenirs when he landed his first chef's job at the Hyatt Kingsgate hotel in Rotorua.

The first was a scar on his thumb after he sliced it with a knife.

The second was somewhat better. It was where he met his wife, Merekaraka.

"She was a kitchen hand and the first time I ever saw her, I knew I was going to marry her," he says.

In his role as chef tutor at the Christchurch Polytechnic Institute of Technology, he uses the scar as a warning to budding chefs.

The marriage is a good example whether you want to be a chef or not.

The 45-year-old says he always "had the spark" for the kitchen.

"It comes through the whole whanau, the family. People's cooking influences are usually their mother - and mine is a great cook."

Tawa speaks te reo "pretty well" which means he gets the gist of Maori news articles.

For people like me who understand a only few words, he translates as he goes.

"The hangi is something you watch aunties and uncles put down. You sort of learn it by osmosis.

"You're not just putting food in the ground, you have to search for the right kind of pohatu (rocks). It's about understanding the whenua (land), like if you're at a high or low water table and how the land holds the heat.

"Mum didn't use sacks or baskets to hold the food. She used harakeke (flax) but you had to boil it first otherwise it releases a toxin and people would get sick. That's definitely not what a hangi is about."

Tawa says a hangi is more than just food.

"It's about manaakitanga - the caring and hospitality.

"When manuhiri (visitors) come, they have taken the time to travel and see you. In times gone by, it wasn't just a bus trip or a car ride up the road, so you honour them by sending them home nice and full.

"At our son's 21st birthday, we had 160 people and 90 per cent of the guests had travelled - that's what I mean about manaakitanga. It was pretty special."

Tawa belongs to mostly central North Island tribes - Ngati Tuwharetoa, Ngati Raukawa, Ngati Awa and Te Arawa.

His whanau taught him to harvest piko piko (wild asparagus) in the spring, where to look and when to pick it.

"Anyone living near the ngahere (bush area) knows the different time frames to harvest. Only the young shoots are used, the old ones get woody."

If he thinks about the South Island tribe of Ngai Tahu and food, he thinks titi and tuna (muttonbird and eel).

Titi are harvested from their subterranean nests on a small group of islands near Stewart Island. Ngai Tahu holds the rights to these birds, traditionally a highly-valued bartering food.

On the subject of titi, Tawa says Maori cooks have it all over the French.

Traditionally, as the birds cooked, their fat was collected in a kelp bag and the titi preserved in this fat as it cooled.

"It's like confit of duck," he says.

"Or overseas chefs will label something 'pot-au-feu'. The first time I saw that, I just thought: 'wow, people pay money for this? It's just a boil- up'."

To this reporter, the smell of muttonbird is less than enticing but Tawa says a palate can be educated.

"It's a bit of a generalisation that Pakeha don't like these foods but I'm happy with that because it means more for me."

And speaking of Maori food that smells bad, he describes the delicacy of dried shark.

"It goes like chewing gum but the smell is feral."

Add to that list a vegetable called kanga wai kopiro (fermented corn traditionally made by leaving it in running water for a couple of months).

"You smell it and think 'something's died here' but it's beautiful and it goes like porridge in your mouth.

"It's rotten corn. Oh, maybe don't use the word rotten. Fermented sounds better.

"Other cultures use the fermenting technique - kimchi and sauerkraut were traditionally buried underground."

Tawa tells his chef students that working with food is not just a job, it is a lifestyle.

Young chefs are expected to work hard.

At the outset of his career, Tawa was starting a food preparation shift at 10am and did not clock off until 1am the following morning - but was paid for only eight hours.

A proud left-hander, Tawa is writing the menu for a four- hour afternoon lesson on the classroom whiteboard. Impressively, he is talking to me at the same time.

He was working at a seafood restaurant when he was asked to teach part-time at CPIT.

"I just love teaching and feeling like I'm giving back."

Outside the kitchen, he still teaches. He is a mentor with a youth group at Grace Vineyard church.

And although neither of Tawa's sons are following their father into a chef's career, he is passing on traditional Maori skills.

The boys have learned to put down a hangi, dive for paua and hunt.

The trends of cuisine run hot and cold but Tawa says Maori food principles remain solid.

Maori Language Week finishes tomorrow. The theme is Te mahi kai, the language of food.

- © Fairfax NZ News