Debate | Issue 10 | Kai by Debate Magazine

ISSUE 10 KAI AUGUST

MAGAZINE DEBATE

Keen for a getaway that won't break the bank? Book your getaway now! www.autsa.org.nz/the-lodge The AUTSA Lodge at Tongariro National Park is available at rock bottom prices for AUT students. It sleeps up to 12 people!

EDITOR

Sam Clark

DESIGNER

Charlie Ratahi McFarland

ASSOCIATE EDITOR

Liam Hansen

FEATURE WRITER

Briar Pomana

CULTURE & LIFESTYLE WRITER

Thomas Giblin

CHIEF REPORTER

Nic George

NEWS WRITER

Vanessa Elley

SOCIAL MEDIA MANAGER

Frances Revita

CONTRIBUTORS

Joel Armstrong, Chris Murphy, Stella Roper, AUT Performing Arts

COVER ART

Charlie Ratahi McFarland

ADVERTISING

Jesse Jones jesse.jones@autsa.org.nz

PRINTER

Nicholson Print Solutions

DISCLAIMER

Material contained in this publication does not necessarily represent the views or opinions of AUTSA, its advertisers, contributors, Nicholson Print Solutions or its subsidiaries.

This publication is entitled to the full protection given by the Copyright Act 1994 (“the Act”) to the holders of the copyright, being AUT STUDENT ASSOCIATION (“AUTSA”). Reproduction, storage or display of any part of this publication by any process, electronic or otherwise (except for the educational purposes specified in the Act) without express permission is a break of the copyright of the publisher and will be prosecuted accordingly. Inquiries seeking permission to reproduce should be addressed to AUTSA.

Debate is a member of the Aotearoa Student Press Association (ASPA).

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From the Editor

DEBATE MAGAZINE ISSUE TEKAU THEME: KAI

14 10

[news] Elections for Student Representatives are now open

Calling Occupants of Interplanetary Craft: Alien Life and the Dubious Claims of David Grusch

Debate Tries To Rank Every Flavour Of Instant Noodles: A Study In Failure

Over a cup of coffee: The makings of a musical community

Where’s the support, AUT?

The Young and Informed: Why don’t young voters show up at election time?

Who has the better kai, AUT or UoA?

Off Menu: My Magical Restaurant

18 28

05 06 22 31

Afternoon Tea

What's On

Gig Guide

Puzzles

debate_mag autsadebate debate@autsa.org.nz

08 30

[news] Preparation well underway for New Zealand Young Writers Fest 2023

Kia ora e te whānau!

I hope you’re feeling hungry, because it’s Debate’s kai issue! Before you begin reading, we recommend you grab your favourite snack. We won’t judge, even if it involves mayonnaise (I’m looking at you, Thomas). We are deep into the cost-of-living crisis, which unfortunately affects our relationship with kai. The excessively high prices at the moment determine what we buy, where we buy it and the freshness and quality of our produce – all of which tie into our general wellbeing. Perhaps Labour’s plans to remove GST on fresh fruit and veges will help things along, but time will tell. You can get the latest on the election in our new segment, The Young and Informed. Countdown’s monopoly on central Auckland still prevails, with their latest edition: a $50 million metro store in Herne Bay. However, the other week I saw a retaliation to all of this, when someone busted straight through the security doors, with a box of Coronas and a full, yet haphazardly-packed shopping bag. Debate does not endorse stealing, but let’s just say I wasn’t about to go chase after them. All in all, you’re far better off going to your local grocer or Asian supermarket. If you’re located in central Tāmaki, my favourites are Sumit Superette in Grey Lynn, the Balmoral fruit and veg store (next to the Central Flea Market) and Dahua, which is just up the road in Eden Terrace. Here, you’ll find much better value, selection –and honestly quality!

Ka kite for now, we’ll see you all again after the mid-semester break!

LETTER FROM THE EDITOR, SAM CLARK

Elections for Student Representatives are now open

By Nic George (he/him) Chief Reporter

Ballots have officially opened for AUT’s 2023 Student Representative Council (SRC) Election this week.

Current SRC President, Sara Youssef, has highlighted the importance of these roles, and encouraged students to get involved.

Last year, only one of the Vice President roles was up for election for a single-year term. Typically, these roles are filled for two years.

AUTSA General Manager Jo-Hill Ismail shared a similar sentiment regarding engagement levels in different elections.

“It is typically busier in presidential election years.”

By (he/him)

“The representatives sit on a variety of different boards that make key decisions that impact students. It is our job to advocate on their behalf to ensure students are taken care of.

We are the bridge between students and AUT.”

Although Youssef is not running in this year’s election, she hopes the future president can continue the current representatives' work on expanding the class rep system and improving how AUT fulfils their Te Tiriti obligations.

Engagement from students in this election has been low in recent years, with only 337 votes cast in the 2022 election.

AUTSA Operations Manager, Susan Taylor, said there are multiple factors at play regarding low voter numbers. She believes one of the leading causes was a lack of candidates, particularly for presidential roles.

She said the number of candidates nominated this year should help improve engagement.

“There are multiple candidates for all three of those roles. So, it's anticipated that there's going to be a lot more visible campaigning for the election.”

Taylor said AUTSA is also improving their ballot collection process, which will make it easier to follow up with students who have not voted.

Another change they are making this year is shifting the date ballots open to before the mid-semester break.

“The idea was to get it in before mid-sem break when folks aren't around or are trying to get some downtime.”

The debate for Presidential and VP candidates will be open for students to attend on September 27th.

ISSUE 5 DRUGS

NEWS

Preparation well underway for New Zealand Young Writers Fest 2023

By Vanessa Elley (she/her) News Writer

The programme for the 2023 New Zealand Young Writers Fest (NZYWF) is now live, as organisers prepare for the festival’s opening on September 21st.

The Ōtepoti Dunedin-based festival is dedicated to celebrating writers aged 15 to 35 from across New Zealand, and this will be its ninth year running.

Co-director / development and strategic relationships manager for the festival, Ruth Harvey, says NZYWF is something special.

“It’s the only literary festival in the country that’s specifically to support young writers… We have a kaupapa where it’s ‘by the young writers for the young writers’, so they decide what the topics are, what’s really meaningful to them, what really resonates in this moment.

“There’s a really strong theme throughout the festival of identity and uplifting marginalised or historically excluded voices… it's one of the things that’s most top-of-mind, as it were, in their work at the moment.

“The way in which the festival gets put together really allows what’s ultra-contemporary as issues in our communities to bubble to the surface, I think.”

Festival guest curator and editor-in-chief of Rat World Magazine, Jennifer Cheuk, says that her focus this year has been on underrepresented forms of writing like graphic novels, visual narrative, podcasting, and postering.

“We have quite a narrow perspective of what writing is sometimes, and I think while I really love short stories and poetry and novels, I think a lot of people think that that’s all that writing is.”

“At its core writing is storytelling for me, so I think broadening that sense means that we can maybe have it less as an exclusive industry,” Cheuk says.

“I think writing and arts has always been a little bit of a gatekept, quite exclusive space so it’s like how can we broaden that conversation.”

Harvey says that NZYWF organisers aim to create a space for writers to connect with each other, and benefit from the peerto-peer support of the wider writing community.

“I think there is something pretty magical about bringing creative people together into a forum and just letting them make organic connections with each other, and you just don’t know how that will evolve over the years to come.

“A lot of them will go on to collaborate in other ways in the future, and that’s a beautiful thing, to be able to create the space for that to happen.”

Cheuk also says that the festival is a way for writers who are just starting out to connect to other creatives.

“I think it’s really hard to get started as an emerging writer, and it's quite hard to break that glass ceiling, especially if you don’t know anyone in the industry.

“There’s so much amazing music and arts and writing coming out of New Zealand and I’m like ah- more people need to know how awesome New Zealand is, right?”

NZYWF has seventeen events running from September 21st to 24th on everything from songwriting to zinemaking to comics, all completely free to attend.

For those unable to travel to Dunedin, certain events will be available as podcasts on the NZYWF website.

Check youngwritersfest.nz for more information.

NEWS

Calling Occupants of Interplanetary Craft: Alien Life and the Dubious Claims of David Grusch

Words by Chris Murphy (he/they) CONTRIBUTING WRITER

In June of this year, US Air Force officer and former intelligence official David Grusch came forward as a whistle-blower, claiming there’s been a decades-long cover-up of “non-human” technology by the US military. At a recent congressional hearing, Grusch claimed there was a recovery of crashed UAPs (Unidentified Aerial Phenomenon, the new “scientific” term for UFOs) containing “biologics.” This has led many to believe that the existence of aliens visiting Earth has been confirmed. It hasn’t.

While Grusch’s claims might seem compelling at first, they are all hearsay. He doesn’t claim to have personally seen any of these craft or non-human life forms, he’s only been

CONTRIBUTING ARTIST

told about them. He hasn’t even claimed that these craft are extra-terrestrial, only that they are not human. Bizarre claims for sure – and without any specific evidence, not ones I’m willing to believe.

The questions that came to my mind when watching Grusch’s testimony were “What did this biological material look like? How was it determined to be biological? If it was clearly non-human, why could it not definitively be called extra-terrestrial?” These weren’t the questions that the congressional hearing asked though. They were more interested in whether or not anyone had been injured or killed to maintain the cover up. Grusch remained vague on that too.

Illustrations by Stella Roper (they/she)

I don’t know what’s actually happening here, but it could be the military trying to muster funding for the new Space Force. There’s a possibility that the air force has been misspending taxpayer money and is now trying to cover its ass (which, if true, is the stupidest way to do it imaginable). Or maybe David Grusch has stumbled on some weird shit and he genuinely believes it is non-human tech. It really doesn’t matter. If it is just a psy-op, it isn’t working very well because people don’t really seem to give a fuck. It really doesn’t matter. What I do know for sure is, it isn’t science. It isn’t independent research being published by people who are actually involved with organisations like the Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence Institute (SETI). It’s really unlikely that actual first contact will be this dramatic.

Because of the huge scale of the universe, it makes sense to limit ourselves to our own galaxy when discussing the possibility of alien life. We can only see the observable universe, which is basically a bubble of all the light which has been able to reach Earth since the universe began. There are at least 100 billion stars in our galaxy, and there are several hundred billion galaxies in just the observable universe. The Whole Universe is probably infinite, so it’s inevitable that there is alien life out there somewhere. The Milky Way is huge and would take thousands of years to cross even with craft that could travel at the speed of light, distances between galaxies are even greater. Because of that there isn’t much point talking about life in the universe outside our own galaxy, we’ll probably never be able to reach it, and it will never be able to reach us. So, unfortunately, we’re trapped in our own shitty little milky corner of space.

Given the almost unimaginable distances between stars in the galaxy, and the many technological and physical barriers that we’ll need to overcome to travel between them, it’s more likely that we will detect alien life by some kind of radio signal. This is what SETI is looking for, using an array of radio telescopes all over the world (including in Aotearoa). There have been a couple of decent candidates for alien radio signals already, the biggest one being the Wow! signal, which was detected in 1977. It was a strong signal with a very narrow bandwidth – it continued for the full 72 seconds that the telescope was able to detect any signal. Unfortunately, it has never repeated, despite our best efforts to find it. Point being, good science takes time. We won’t suddenly discover aliens exist in one huge moment. It’ll take years of research and debate and speculation before anyone is even willing to say, “Hey, we might have just detected a radio signal from an alien civilisation. Probably. We hope.”

We make a lot of assumptions about life in the universe too. Physicists and astronomers tend to assume intelligence must be a natural end point of evolution, but as someone with a background in biology, I’m sceptical of this. As far as we know, we are the only intelligent species to ever evolve. The family Hominidae , the great apes, the genetic family we belong to, evolved about 17 million years ago. The Homo (not gay) genus evolved around 3 million years ago. Our species, Homo sapiens , evolved only 300,000 years ago. To put that into perspective, the Ceratopsia group of organisms, which triceratops (objectively the best dinosaur) were a part of, existed for 95 million years and never developed any kind of humanlike intelligence or culture. The Earth is 4.5 billion years

old. The universe is about 13.8 billion years old. Our planet has existed for nearly a third of the universe’s history, yet, our type of intelligence has existed for less than 0.01% of the planet’s history. We are the only example of a planet with life (that we know of). I can’t think of any other scientific concept people are willing to speculate on with a sample of one.

We also like to think that aliens must be absolutely clamouring to study and observe us, because we are so important and special. While humans have a massive influence on the environment, we make up less than 0.01% of Earth’s total biomass (that’s the weight of all living things on the planet). Microscopic life is far more diverse and expansive than just the human species, and plants represent the largest part of the planet's total biomass. I have no idea why we assume aliens would think we were more interesting than the millions of other life forms on the planet.

The idea that aliens would even want to contact us is based on an assumption of the colonial European perspective. Most Western scientists assume some kind of cultural similarity with alien life. There is no universal objective reason why an alien species would be interested in reaching out or observing. I study science and I sincerely believe that the scientific method is a powerful and useful tool for understanding the world, but the European method of scientific inquiry is not universal. If it were, we’d see analogous approaches in different cultures on Earth, and we don’t. European denial of indigenous knowledge has undeniably hurt our environment and world, and stunted our understanding of many aspects of the natural world. Any alien species capable of crossing the huge distances of interstellar space must have technologies that are well beyond any of our current capabilities. So, ironically, if aliens were anything like the vast majority of European scientists over the last 400 years, they would probably be dismissive of our “primitive” mathematics, science and engineering.

So, are aliens real? Maybe. I want to believe they are too. I’ve been fascinated by the UFO phenomenon since I was a little kid. While I think Grusch’s claims are bullshit, I don’t think UAPs in general are. Even if just 1% of the reported incidents are authentic, it would still be worthy of serious investigation. There just isn’t any proof that UAPs are from an intelligent source and not just a natural phenomenon we don’t understand yet. Despite all the strides that modern science and research have made, there is still a lot we don’t know, even about Earth.

Until little green people come crawling out of a flying saucer that’s just crashed into Aotea Square, or SETI picks up a signal with a clear and unambiguously intelligent source, I will continue to believe that we are the only intelligent species in our galaxy or maybe even the observable universe. It’s a good reason for us to focus on looking after our own planet. Life like ours seems to be extremely rare. Our intelligence is a cosmic gift, whether you believe in higher powers or not, and if we continue to allow a handful of the greediest people in positions of power to prevent us from coming together as an intelligent species to save ourselves, maybe we don’t even deserve to make contact with whatever might be out there.

By Liam Hansen (they/them) ASSOCIATE EDITOR

Abstract

Debate Tries To Rank Instant Noodles: A

This was a fucking stupid idea. “Oh, the Kai issue is coming up! I can do one of those quirky ‘Ranking Every Kind of A Specific Food’ articles! AUTSA will cover the costs, we’ll have some free food, and I’ll have a funny article at the end of it. Let’s rank instant noodles, that’ll be perfect for the student audience :)” I had no idea what kind of logistics actually go into this genre of listicle. I would have had to run across the country to get every brand available in Aotearoa, and even then I’d barely be able to scratch the surface of what it means to rank every flavour of instant noodles. I went into this with hubris, and I didn't complete anything close to what was sought after. Whatever. This is a ranking of all the noodle cups and bowls that were available at Countdown Victoria Street on the 2nd of August, 2023. God forgive me.

The Plan

Rank every flavour from every brand of instant noodles that I can. I figured it’d take a few participants to get some adequate discourse going on, and that if I wanted to do it in a day, I would need to restrict myself to the availability of just one supermarket. I still thought it was doable, though – I had the help of multiple members of the Debate team, and Sam’s reassurance that it would all go smoothly. I now know that Sam is a liar, or at the very least is too kind for his own good.

Obstacles

I initially wanted to rank the range of noodles available at Breaktime. AUT students could use our highbrow research as they browse the colourful ramen delights. Considering the university itself can’t support its students, the next best pick is obviously the half-rate comms students that fester in the Debate office.

The problem was, it didn’t really hit me how many actual brands of noodles there were at Breaktime (Figure 1) - and let’s be real, they don’t have the cheapest prices.

Our big bosses at AUTSA were willing to help cover the costs (this was for journalistic purposes after all), but they set us a pretty dismal budget of around $40. Breaktime ramen can run for an average of $3 a bowl, so we would’ve used more than double the budget if we got the full range. Thankfully, I had a backup plan: the surreal oasis of Countdown Victoria Street West, surrounded by roadworks and the lingering promise of the City Rail Link. To make things harder, we did this experiment on Wednesday the 2nd of August, when I was only free from 2:30pm, and both Thomas and Nic had commitments at 4pm. Thus, at exactly 2:33pm, I left camps and speedwandered my way down Queen Street to the 4.1-star-rated supermarket situated in the heart of Tāmaki Makaurau.

Countdown simultaneously had incredibly slim pickings, and way more options than I anticipated. Beforehand, I had checked the website and figured there were around ten options that suited our experiment, but for some reason the search results didn’t include all the noodles from the international aisle. While I was underwhelmed by the lack of good Indomie and Shin options, I still left the supermarket with 27 different varieties of niche noodle flavours from all across the world. I also ran into my friend on the way out, who refused to let me leave without taking a photo of my embarrassingly full shopping basket (Figure 2). With a surprisingly light basket filled with ramen, and increasing insecurity around the people looking at my self-checkout struggle (I still went over budget, so fuck me I guess), I left the supermarket and made my way back up to AUT for the task I had been dreading the most.

Figure One: Sam and Liam realise they do not have the stomachs or budget to test out all the flavours available at Breaktime. Figure 2: This smile is fake. There is no life behind my eyes. My apathetic thumbs up represents nothing more than the void that’s sticking up in my brain as I process why the fuck I am doing this. Photo credit: Corey Fuimaono.

Every Flavour Of Study In Failure

Methods

The research team initially consisted of Sam, Nic, Thomas and me, with Debate contributors Stella and Chris joining on later in the fray. We unpacked the bag and mentally processed the monumental task ahead of us. It’s easy to think to yourself that you can do a goofy little food challenge in around an hour, but it’s a lot less silly and quirky when a variety of colourful cups are sitting on the table, basically laughing at you for your stupid, idiotic mistakes (Figure 3). There was no time to dilly-dally. I tasked the lads with opening up the first few cups, grabbed the kettle with all of my might, sprinted to the nearest water fountain, awkwardly standing there as the embarrassingly low water pressure filled up the kettle at a rate of about 0.0000000000007 millilitres per hour (Figure 4). Eventually I ran back, smacked the kettle onto its podium, turned it on and prepared for our first few flavours.

Our first few flavours were tame and familiar. We started with all our Maggi flavours, as well as the only Indomie cup I could find. These were honestly pretty good – if only because we were all nostalgic for these flavours. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find the Maggi chicken, so my favourite after-school snack flavour was lost. I wasn’t actually sure where to set my standards to begin. The beef option we started off with was tasty, but I could definitely imagine there being much better options available.

From there, we stuck around in the white-aisle options: Trident's tom yum was weirdly sour, and their pad thai didn’t remotely taste like pad thai, but both were still tasty to me. Nic did not agree, claiming the Trident tom yum was the worst of the bunch due to the unique usage of rice noodles and his belief that it was like biting into a lumpy lime. Thankfully for me, I love sour flavours, so I thought it was pretty decent. The last of the non-international aisle ramen was from Supreme Noodles, which was basically just a Maggi knock off. I fucked up the flavours here, pretty much pouring every flavour into the wrong cup, so it was a bit of a guessing game for which flavour was which. Regardless, they weren’t great. On a final note for this batch of noodles, Sam pointed out the sheer amount of “Oriental” flavours. It isn’t our place as Pākehā to say whether the use of such an outdated term was unethical, but it definitely didn’t leave an easy feeling in our already noodle-filled stomachs. Chris walked in around this time, with no context as to what was going on, and immediately agreed to taking part. Great job, Chris!

We switched over to Countdown’s international aisle, expecting big things, but we were still underwhelmed. It’s worth mentioning the second caveat of this experiment: I’m vegetarian. Although, I can be a pretty loose one – I’ll avoid grey-area foods like fish sauce, stock and gelatin – but I wouldn’t beat myself up over eating it in the way I would meat. The majority of noodles seemed to be veggie-friendly, but the only one I refused to eat was Nissin seafood, due to it smelling like the Auckland Fish Market that I hated as a kid. Special points go to Nissin for not using extra plastic packaging for its flavour packets, though. The powder and veggies, presumably freeze-dried, were already dumped on top of the dry noodles, and dissolved into a broth once the boiling water was poured over it. I didn’t like their flavours, but I respect the design. Sam and Thomas thought their laksa noodles went hard.

I decided to stick to one method of noodle preparation: boiling water goes in and stays in, with the flavour sticking around in the water to create a classic broth. I’m aware this isn’t the only option, and everyone has their own preference. I, for one, am a peanut butter loving degenerate who will usually just turn every pack of ramen I have at home into a satay sauce. But the broth method felt the most traditional.

Rank

Figure 3: Thomas, looking at his phone in a desperate attempt to ignore what’s in front of him. Figure 4: Seriously, is anyone ever gonna fix this shit?

Continued...

By this point, we were all getting close to tapping out. Nic and Thomas had to leave, we still had 12 packs to go, but no one had the energy to eat that many. We made the unfortunate but necessary decision to eliminate all the packs that weren’t packaged in disposable bowls or cups (due to the convenience of a portable dish) and whittled our remaining noodles down to five. In my opinion, these were the best of the bunch: I gave Nongshim hot and spicy a 10 (despite everyone else giving it a four or lower) and marvelled at the ingenuity of Suimin utilising it’s “Authentic Thai Paste” to give the broths a creamier texture – despite looking pretty gross in the process. They were all decent, but the three remaining judges just couldn’t do it anymore. We finished off with the pretty good Nongshim kimchi and called it a day.

However, just at that moment, a beacon of light and energy came through the door, lifting our spirits and ready to test out all the flavours they had just missed out on. By that, I mean Stella came by after their class. She’s a self-described noodle expert, and despite my lethargic state, I had just enough energy to pull out my notes app and do a live transcription of her harsh reviews. Some highlights include “Maggi beef: Beefy, 7/10” and the complete opposite scores they gave to the rest of us for Sam and Nic’s favourite Nissin laksa, and my favourite Nongshim hot and spicy. With her final scores, and frustration that we had to eliminate Shin Ramyun due to it requiring a bowl (Figure 5), we were finally finished. Time to end this shit.

Results:

For our rating methodology, we all rated the noodles out of ten, and I calculated the average number to calculate the supreme winners and losers. But honestly? I’m not sure if that was the right pathway. Why? Well, maybe it’s best if you just see the ranking for yourself:

1. Suimin coconut chicken: 7.25

2. Jin Ramen mild: 7

3. Nissin laksa: 7

4. Suimin tom yum: 6.6

5. Maggi beef: 6.166666667

6. Supreme Noodles beef: 6.166666667

7. Fantastic Noodles chicken: 6

8. Nongshim kimchi: 6

9. Indomie hot and spicy: 5.833333333

10. Trident tom yum: 5.666666667

11. Ottogi snack ramen cup: 5.666666667

12. Maggi mi goreng - hot and spicy: 5.333333333

13. Maggi oriental: 4.666666667

14. Nongshim hot and spicy: 4.6

15. Nissin seafood: 4.5

16. Supreme Noodles oriental: 4.5

17. Trident pad thai: 4.333333333

18. Supreme Noodles chicken: 4.333333333

19. Nissin chicken: 4.25

20. Supreme Noodles chicken and corn: 3.5

Discussion:

This just feels wrong. Maybe it’s because of the sheer amount of sodium that’s still in my gut, but I can’t shake the feeling that we’ve done a disservice to this task. I mean, really? Suimin’s coconut chicken was good, don’t get me wrong, but I’m shocked that it got the top spot. We didn’t really have the time or experience to properly understand the beauty of these flavours, and we barely scratched the surface of what’s possible within the realm of noodles. We lost the chance to try so many – the childhood nostalgia of Maggi chicken, the Breaktime exclusives we missed out on and the singular packages left to be consumed at a later date. This is wrong, and I think I know the reason why: the Shin Ramyun.

Figure 5: Stella likes Shin Ramyun. Shin is her final say.

Every time I mentioned this piece, the majority of people heralded the classic Shin Ramyun as the noodles to beat all noodles. Everyone said it couldn’t be beaten, and it wasn’t even included in our ranking. I haven’t slept since that fateful Wednesday, unable to shake away my guilt for that horrific exclusion; most of all, because I haven’t actually tried classic Shin before. I’m sorry! I just never got around to it! I hate myself too, don’t worry! Because of this, I can currently hear my $11 flat kettle bubbling away, and I have a bowl ready to be consumed. This is it, the final frontier. I refuse to be a failure any longer. I will cook this shin according to package instructions, and find out once and for all if it truly is the greatest ramen there is.

Revised Results: Shin Ramyun. 100/10.

Conclusion:

Ok, I’ve just finished the bowl (Figure 6). Shin Ramyun fans, I apologise for not jumping on the bandwagon sooner. This goes hard.

Why is it that students love instant noodles so much? Is it just a stereotype from the media we’ve accepted as a reality, or is there something more to it? Perhaps, this is all a metaphor about how we can only afford the cheapest meals from our grocery aisles, so it’s no wonder we’ve become emotionally attached to them. Maybe, like me, you had Maggi noodles as a kid - and although you now realise it’s pretty shit compared to the authentic stuff, the taste still brings you back to your youth. At the end of the day, it doesn't matter what your emotional connection to ramen might be. I’m pretty dang white, and the fact that my nostalgic food is fucking Maggi proves that. I hold a lot of privilege in that, and I recognise that for many Asian immigrants, ramen is an important link to their culture and whānau.

Musician and author Michelle Zauner, well known for her music as Japanese Breakfast, has spoken at length about the impact food had on her relationship with her late mother and her identity as a Korean-American in the book Crying in H Mart. She discusses Korean food in Asian supermarkets, “We’re all searching for a piece of home, or a piece of ourselves. We look for a taste of it in the food we order and the ingredients we buy. Then we separate. We bring the haul back to our dorm rooms or our suburban kitchens, and we re-create the dish that couldn’t be made without our journey.” I’m privileged in the fact that I haven’t experienced the isolation and trauma that caused the links to food Zauner talks about. But it’s important to keep in mind, as students consuming ramen, how lucky we are to be enjoying this food in the way that we do.

Figure 6: I like Shin Ramyun. Shin is my final say.

Over a cup of coffee: The makings of a musical community

By Sam Clark (he/him) EDITOR Nico Rose Penny (she/her) PHOTOGRAPHY

While enjoying a pastry at Daily Bread Ponsonby, among a crowd of dogs and cool kids, you’ll soon notice their great playlist over the speakers. However, what you may not know is: you were probably served coffee by one of two prominent Tāmaki musicians. Violet Hirst and Mitch Innes both play in The Violet Hirst Experience, who if you were lucky enough to see, just finished touring Violet’s new album, Donegal.

Aside from the typical Ponsonby crowd, the cafe has also become a hub for musicians, due to a popular rehearsal space nearby in Grey Lynn. So, bands often come through before practice for a coffee, or just to be in the space. Violet explains that this community formed very naturally – as people were attracted to the space, “You put something out there and it will come back.” This had led to a supportive community of creative people, centred on music. She says, “It’s created a wee hub. Since Mitch I work there together, all these musicians come in now… Sometimes you look around and there’s a whole musicians’ table waiting for coffee. It’s great!”

Mitch explains how Violet initiated things, “Violet’s definitely for the culture. She came in with all of her, and starting playing different music at the cafe.” They didn’t think they were allowed to, but their bosses don’t mind, as long as it’s not pop music. The pair actually met a couple of years prior – they played a show together in Pōneke. However, Mitch didn’t remember her when she came in for a job trial. It didn’t seem to matter though, as the pair have become close friends and collaborators. “Mitch got in my band because I was working with him. If it weren’t for that, then we wouldn’t be here.” At first, Violet wasn’t sure if people knew if people knew Mitch was a musician, so she just started telling people. “Then, there were two musicians in the room, then, there were three… It just spreads.”

It’s no secret that many musicians work hospo to support their art. But it’s rare, and quite special when co-workers foster a positive and supportive environment like this. Despite the hospitality industry’s often dubious reputation, they make it work at Daily Bread – striking a good balance. Mitch says, “Starting so early means there’s plenty of time in the afternoon for practicing… It’s very flexible. It didn’t used to be at Daily Bread, but it is now, we’ve figured it out.” Violet says there’s a great creative buzz going around which is inspiring to be around – it’s why she’s kept working there. They’ll often spend the day working together, then go to a show. Mitch says, “It gets a bit much sometimes… but it’s also not, because everyone’s so nice.”

Violet moved to Tāmaki last year, just after recording her debut album Donegal in Cromwell, near her hometown of Tāhuna, Queenstown. She says, “That’s where my music resonates with most – doing it in Cromwell seemed quite idyllic, and it was.” The album is named after the house they recorded it in, which they did over the course of a week. “We all stayed in the house… you’re living and breathing it every day.” Accompanying her was Reuben Scott, who played lead guitar on their tour, and De Stevens of Roundhead Studios, who also happens to be Mitch’s best friend from school. “I was with De the whole time. We would wake up, have breakfast together, start the recording, maybe have a lunch break, but constantly working from 9am until 10pm,” she says.

Violet Hirst

Mitch Innes

Like Violet, Mitch also keeps himself busy. Alongside drumming for Violet, he’s in two other bands – Office Dog and Salt Water Criminals. He explains how he keeps up this busy schedule, “I’m a bit scared because Vanessa Worm has just moved to Auckland… Two bands is really good, it’s the perfect amount. Three is fine, most of the time. But I think four is probably too much,” He says. This is all while managing the Ponsonby branch of Daily Bread, which usually has a line around the corner. “I am the manager… but I think some of the people that I’m supposed to manage don’t actually know that.” However, Mitch explains that it gets confusing at times, because music wouldn’t pay for a living right now, “Most weeks recently I’ve done four band practices, then there are sometimes weekends when there’s a show. But it’s fun. Just gotta remember that it’s fun.” Mitch also hires a studio in Avondale, which is why he works full time, he says “It’s only $50 a week, but with rent and everything else – I feel like I have to keep working.”

Musicians working hospo is tale as old as time, but no one does it better than the crew at Daily Bread Ponsonby. As Mitch says, “It’s a bit shit… playing a show on a Friday, then working the next day.” But they make it work. By creating this special community, they’re able to support each other at work, and on stage. Like Violet says, “It’s really important to be around people that inspire you and make you want to keep creating.”

Violet Hirst’s debut album, Donegal is out now on all streaming platforms. Office Dog’s Spiel is out on Friday September 15th, via Flying Nun.

Where’s the Support, AUT?

By AUT Performing Arts CONTRIBUTING WRITERS

AUT claims to be a vibrant, inclusive and welcoming place, so you'd think it would jump at the opportunity to amplify its theatre community... right? Wrong. At AUT Performing Arts, we produce amazing shows for students to watch and participate in but face one challenge after the next. This is due to an immense lack of support from the university, which supposedly prides itself on its student community.

We are AUT’s only arts and performance club. Despite starting fairly recently and dealing with Covid restrictions, we have already managed to put on a major production, two variety shows, one play and several workshops attended by hundreds of people. We are currently working on a second major production for October this year – Peter Pan for Grown Ups.

Last year our major production, The Multiversity, was an entirely original, student-led show that we performed in Aotea Centre, but even this was not enough to make AUT care. It didn’t seem to matter that we gave them publicity by virtue of being the AUT performing arts club. They denied our request for help with advertising or extra funding, and not one single AUT representative came to watch our show, or even asked us how it went. They could have found out that we sold 270 tickets! We were lucky to get a very generous grant from AUTSA last year, but this has not been possible in 2023 due to the dismal budget that AUT allocates to the club space.

After the success of last year’s production, our growing membership and our well-attended events, we thought things might be different. However, we have had even more difficulty in producing this year’s show due to the decreased funding and inaccessibility of AUT services. We have faced countless obstacles in accessing AUT’s performing arts space, which is built for shows and performances, so you’d think that we’d be able to use it. Did you even know we had a performing arts space at AUT? We didn’t! It has been incredibly difficult for us to get access, and even then it seems as if us being in there is a nuisance. So why would AUT build a performance space but not want performances to be held there?

Okay, so maybe AUT doesn’t care about the performing arts or our shows. But why should they? Because we’re literally doing the most for them. Not only are we providing one of the most active and spirited community spaces at AUT, we are also spreading the good word about AUT to the general public, establishing the AUT name within the Auckland theatre community and showcasing an excellent image for their reputation. Prospective students could be tipped over to AUT by coming to our shows, seeing our community and wanting to be a part of it. We’re also meeting a need that they aren’t. There is no performing arts degree here. We are the only vessel for people to express and expel their creative performance energy. Considering the number of screen production, radio and advertising students at AUT, you’d think quite a few of them would be interested in performance, no?

Lastly, AUT should care because university is about the experience and the community. Have you ever heard old people say that student life and the lifelong friends they made were the most important thing they got out of university? Let's be honest, it’s probably the only thing that stays with you when you leave (other than a piece of paper). AUTPA shows are crucial to fostering vibrant student communities at AUT. There is nothing quite like putting on a show to bring people together. And our club members form one of the most tight-knit and supportive groups at AUT. Our core group’s lives have been forever changed by AUTPA, and our club is like family to them.

Peter Pan for Grown Ups is the culmination of two years of hard work and dedication. Our show involves over 50 AUT students, both on and off stage, and is adapted and directed by AUT students completely voluntarily. Funnier and more risqué than your childhood favourite, Peter Pan for Grown Ups is a wild and magical adventure through our modernised and even wackier Neverland, full of fun, music, magic and dance. Come and support us to show AUT that the arts matter!

Tickets for Peter Pan for Grown Ups are available now! See our social media for details: @aut_performing_arts.

THE

YOUNG INFORMED & :

Why don’t young voters show up at election time?

By Nic George (he/him) CHIEF REPORTER

Every election cycle, we hear the same concerns raised about young voters not showing up to the polls.

In the 2020 General Election, only 61 per cent of eligible voters under 25 voted, which was an 11 per cent increase over 2017. However, this was still significantly lower than the over-50 voting bloc with 86 per cent in 2020.

Low young voter turnout is not a new phenomenon. Looking back as far as the 2002 General Election, we can see that only 62 per cent of 18–24-year-olds cast their ballots.

The youngest sitting MP, Chlöe Swarbrick of the Greens, said young voters often don’t see themselves represented in political spaces.

"People don't necessarily feel as though there's action occurring on the things that they care about which then means that they disengage from the broader political sphere.”

Engagement Trustee for the Social Change Collective, Finn Shewell, echoed Swarbrick’s concerns.

“I would say faith in institutions is probably quite low for young people. IIf there are no candidates that represent your interests, why would you take part at all?"

Shewell shared his personal experience in helping his younger brother through his first election cycle.

“He said no parties grab his attention by doing something to improve the life of a student or young person - and if they're trying to, they haven't advertised them in the right spaces for the people concerned to find out about it.”

He also points to the number of young people in tough socio-economic situations as a large factor ro low votes.

"There's a lot of people who are busy focusing on surviving, and they can't really afford to be politically or civically engaged in the moment because they're too busy trying to figure out how to put a meal on the table."

The cost-of-living crisis has placed a burden on young people and students as they struggle to make ends meet.

A recent student survey conducted by AUTSA found that 70 per cent of AUT students are losing “studying time” because they need to spend more time at work.

Respondents also reported financial hardship has led to them going without food, health care, clothing, and other necessities.

Swarbrick said this issue creates a “negative feedback loop” leading to further disenfranchisement.

"When you disengage, you end up with even less representation because there's less pressure on politicians.

"That lack of representation results in less action on things that people care about."

She said it’s important to make a clear distinction between apathy and disenfranchisement.

"Diagnosing young people's disengagement with politics as apathy is kind of missing the point.”

"I think that they tend to be more disenfranchised, and more distrustful of a system and an institution and cultural and structural norms that don't look, or sound like them."

She said the best ‘antidote’ for low engagement levels is through collective action and community building.

"Our House of Representatives needs to do the work to become more relevant to younger voters."

Labour’s Auckland Central candidate, Oscar Sims, said he thinks more young people should also consider other avenues for political action.

"Our politicians aren't going to listen to the voice of youth unless we make them, so that's where grassroots political campaigning and activism can be quite good."

Sims comes from an advocacy background as a spokesperson for the ‘Coalition for More Homes’ prior to joining the Labour Party in the hopes of becoming the first Gen-Z MP.

Shewell said he would like to see a more symbiotic relationship between representatives and their constituents.

"I think the biggest failure of our current system, as it stands, is people don't feel like their representatives are accessible.”

"There needs to be a back and forth - it can't just be your candidates offering stuff up and you saying 'No, I don't like it.'"

Sims said education reforms could help better prepare young people for the political sphere.

"There's a case there for thinking about how we better teach our young people in schools about civics and about the political system.”

He said Labour doesn’t have any current plans to include a revamp to civics education in schools, but he is hopeful that the party’s commitment to financial literacy improvements could be a step in the right direction.

"If you're teaching kids how KiwiSaver works and how interest rates work? I think that allows people to have more informed reckons around the economy and economic policy."

He also shared optimism about the voting reforms Labour passed lowering the voting age in local elections, and the opportunity this offers people to get a taste of the democratic process.

"Voting is a habit, right? If they're young and they start voting in their first election, they keep voting.”

"I think that that will have flow and effects long term on people becoming kind of habitual lifelong voters."

Who has the better kai, AUT or UoA?

By Joel Armstrong (they/them) CONTRIBUTING WRITER

As someone who has relatively recently graduated from AUT with a Bachelor of Communication Studies, I have had plenty of time, let’s say around half of my three-year degree (thanks Covid) to search for the tastiest scran to treat my puku with. I also now work across the way at 95bFM, tucked away in the crevices of the University of Auckland. After spending a fair bit of time on both sides of Albert Park, I can confidently tell you where to find some tasty kai.

Disclaimer

• I’m only including quick, takeaway-ish options, so I won’t be recommending any cafes per se.

• I will not be talking about any options on AUT’s North or South campuses, and same for UoA. I have never eaten nor stepped foot in any of them. This will mostly be for the city folk (many apologies).

• All of these food retailers are on campus bar one. However, we’ll still count it. It’s only five minutes away and it definitely adds to the culture of AUT.

• Lastly, I am not vegetarian or vegan, and I don’t have any sort of dietary requirements. However, I will say that all options discussed in this article should have at least one vegetarian option.

Let’s start with AUT, where it all began…

Option 1: #newsfeed

I love #newsfeed. I feel so healthy and rejuvenated after treating myself to a cute little salad moment, especially after skulling a Red Bull or Monster. There are so many different vege options, dressing and protein options, and they all taste super fun. You’d expect the veges to be a little soggy, especially if you go there later in the day. But I honestly didn’t find that at all. And the fact you can get it as a sandwich makes it feel like a better shout than Subway. Plus, it’s closer (by five minutes, anyway). The service and pricing isn’t that bad either. A medium salad will take you forever to finish, and to this day, I’ve only properly finished one a few times.

Option 2: Sensational Chicken

It is essential that Sensational Chicken makes this list. They whip up some of the nicest fried chicken I have ever tasted. Whether it’s their wings, drums, nibbles, burgers, wraps or even toasties, it’s super tasty stuff. The fries are also great, especially the waffle or curly varieties. Service can be a little bit slow, but that’s because the place is so popular with AUT and UoA students alike. I want to give a special mention to their spicy and Hawaiian burgers because they slap. Although this is a chicken shop, they also have a decent selection of vegetarian burgers, which have been certified as delicious by my vegetarian friend, who usually brings their own food to campus. All of the meat is halal too! Prices are also pretty affordable, so treating yourself won’t leave too much of a dent in your wallet.

If you ever find yourself over the ditch at the University of Auckland, here’s what I recommend:

Option 1: Needo

Needo is a pasta place that can be found across from Munchy Mart. I’ve never really been a giant fan of pasta (for whatever reason), but this place has certainly changed my mind. Service can be good outside of peak times, but during the peak you’ll be in line for a while. You can also add extras, like chilli oil and sriracha, which is much appreciated. Prices can be a bit sketchy depending on what you order, but they’re mostly decently priced. I would recommend the creamy mushroom. Side note! When looking for the menu while writing this piece, I realised that there’s also a Needo in Commercial Bay, which is pretty cool.

Option 2: Chi Chop

Chi Chop is really the whole bag. This place sells lots of different food items, from burgers and fries to bentos, while also serving boba. I love the crispy chicken burger and the baogers that they have on offer. They put this mysterious – and might I say a little bit devilish –seasoning on the fries, and oh my god are they sensational. It’s genuinely one of my favourite places to get fries from. Service is good, your food comes quickly and prices mostly depend on what you order. From memory, a crispy chicken burger with fries is around $12, which is especially good for what you get on your plate.

They put this mysterious – and might I say a little bit devilish – seasoning on the fries, and oh my god are they sensational.

Both AUT and UoA have some decent food options, and I would fully recommend exploring both during your studies. They’re very close to each other, and it will give you some time to procrastinate on whatever it is you need to be working on. I think we all deserve a fun little treat every now and again.

I love #newsfeed. I feel so healthy and rejuvenated after treating myself to a cute little salad moment, especially after skulling a Red Bull or Monster.

OFF MENU: My Magical Restaurant

By Thomas Giblin (he/him) @thegreengiblin CULTURE & LIFESTYLE WRITER

The faded memories of Ashley Bloomfield's daily sermons, face mask acne and Zoom lectures are remnants from a surreal world. Grandchildren will quiz us about these two or so years of Covid, closed borders and lockdowns for their homework. They'll ask, "What was it like?" and we'll realise that the pandemic didn't happen a few years ago but a few decades ago. This surreal reality defined our lives as we emerged into adulthood; no time was spent drunkenly stumbling down Queen Street. Instead, we watched Tiger King or played Among Us while sipping a dalgona coffee.

We all had to find ways to remain sane during the horrors of this new reality; my coping mechanism was a daily evening stroll around the grounds of a local school. This ritualistic promenade gave way to a lockdown hyperfixation: podcasts. No, I wasn't listening to The Joe Rogan Experience, but Off Menu - a food and comedy show hosted by famed British comedians Ed Gamble and James Acaster. The premise is simple: a guest imagines their dream restaurant, with a genie waiter that can produce any food or drink that one desires. Guests are first asked, "Still or sparkling water?" by Acaster, who plays the genie. Mid-answer, he'll suddenly shout, "Poppadoms or bread?" and the show continues with their guest describing their dream menu: the starter, main course, side dish, drink and dessert.

While walking, I often saw an old man with surprising athleticism doing tai chi on the furrowed school field. I'd pause the podcast, and we'd have a brief socially distanced chat about the daily community case numbers. Occasionally, a dog off its leash would scamper up to me and beg at my legs for attention. Its yaps would be much louder than its teensy frame. The pup would interrupt the sound of a podcast guest, such as The Streets frontman Mike Skinner or Hollywood star Martin Freeman, until its owner beckoned it back with a piercing whistle that echoed off of sandboxes and abandoned sports equipment.

My saunter began as an excuse to get out of the house and escape the glacial asphyxiation that occurs when you're stuck with family in a small flat for months. Instead, Off Menu became a springboard to ponder my dream menu, transforming these mundane walks into a self-reflexive examination of my complicated relationship with food and its enduring connective power. I know I'll never be invited to the show, so now's my excuse to reveal my dream menu after many hours of imagining what I'd say and how I'd impress the hosts.

Locale

In the London area of Mayfair (the namesake of Monopoly's most expensive dark blue property) is The Wolseley restaurant. Its premises are stunning; formerly a Barclays Bank, the building features Venetian- and Florentine-inspired detailing, with an interior decorated with lavish marble pillars and archways. The grand facade transports you back to memories of creamy hollandaise and indulgent desserts paid for by distant relatives. Despite its opulence and often glamorous crowd of media types, there's no sense of snobbery if you waltz in wearing a pair of jeans. Guests like me are welcomed as regulars, yet I've only been three times. Also, since this is my dream restaurant, I want to transport The Wolseley to the Swiss Alps, so I can walk out of the stinging cold and thaw out as a heater works overtime.

To further curate the ambience of my dream restaurant, I'd want a playlist of certified bangers to be playing. From Ryuichi Sakamoto to Aphex Twin and Salvia Palth, this playlist would echo out loud enough to be heard but not so loud that I'd have to raise my voice. Also, occasionally I'd overhear a patron telling their friend or significant other that they like the song playing. I crave validation, so this dream menu and restaurant is as much about pleasing my frontal lobe as it is about my palete.

Waiter!

Hear me out - Boris Johnson in leather bondage on rollerblades. The masochist within me wants to see the bumbling idiot humiliated and at my beck and call. He'd stumble and fall while carrying dishes to other tables, but Johnson would never dare spill my food. Seeing him seep with sweat, and his face go bright red as he struggled to remain upright on his rollerblades would be a sight to behold. Johnson would crash and fall. Plates would smash, and he'd dowse himself in lingonberry compote and Languedoc red. Patrons would all point and laugh in unison.

Still or sparkling water?

I'll always pick still tap water at a restaurant, but since this is my dream restaurant and I don't have to worry about picking up the bill, I'm choosing ice-cold sparkling water. No, it doesn't taste like TV static but rather the nectar of the gods. Make sure to add some crushed ice and a few slices of lemon.

POPPADOMS OR BREAD?

Easy question: poppadoms. I am a moth to a flame for this iconic Indian snack. A staple of any takeaway night, a dozen will be consumed on the brief drive home, despite telling myself, "I have to save some for the curry." Only crumbs will remain in the greasy paper bag, crumpled up next to a piping hot naan fresh from the tandoor. If I had any self-control, I'd dip the poppadoms into a mint raita, but the wonderful guilty indulgence of knowing you shouldn't, but you will, makes this snack irresistible on a drive home. I'm always wary of the crumbs that adorn my lap; it's evidence against my case when I try to convince my family that I must have forgotten to order some.

Hors d'oeuvre/Appetiser/Starter

The humble onion bhaji, an underrated item on Indian takeaway menus, is a staple food in my life. The frozen ones I'm currently defrosting for when I have a break from writing aren't authentic, but god do they hit the spot. Best served piping hot with a side of mango chutney, an onion bhaji will always make me smile.

I've already featured two foods from the Indian subcontinent on the menu, so I want to situate my relationship with Anglo-Indian cuisine in my life. I was born in Ealing, London. The town of Southall, often called Little Punjab or Little India, was adjacent to where I lived. My mum often recounts how I was only a few days old when I was in a high chair at Haweli's, an iconic Indian restaurant. When I learned to walk, the staff would give me a kitchen tour, and on Sundays, we'd visit for their bargain Sunday brunch buffet.

I'm thankful I was born in a city with such ethnic diversity, where the cuisine spanned the globe. Yes, barriers still exist, and the poisonous debate around immigration has been stoked by the likes of Trump, Farage and Hanson. But diversity is what makes cities like London, my birthplace and Tāmaki Makaurau, my kāinga, great. Our differences stoke creativity, and exposure to different cultures through the connective power of food should be celebrated. We shouldn't be divided, but rather united over delicious plates of shumai, mussels, waakye, empanadas and pavlova.

Main Course

When you have hyperfixations with certain foods, you often end up loving the dish one day, but the next you can't even stomach looking at it without feeling queasy. Fresh pasta, the spinach and ricotta kind you get from the refrigerated section at your local supermarket, was all that I wanted to eat for the longest time. Despite these tendencies of mine, there was no clear choice for my dream main. I could've chosen a beloved food from my childhood, but I can't remember a main course I was infatuated with. I was a picky eater, so any main course was usually spent sitting at the dinner table till I was finished with my food or hiding vegetables in the pockets of my camouflage shorts. I'd later flush the broccoli, green beans or brussel sprouts down the toilet.

Without a standout dish in mind, I had to deliberate for hours on what my dream main would be. As if I was a juror serving on a trial, I agonised over all the evidence. But soon it became obvious: tteok-bokki with an extreme amount of mozzarella cheese. The dish, sweet and spicy, with perfectly chewy rice cakes, a sprinkling of spring onion and a smothering of gooey, stretchy cheese is a dish I turn to whenever I'm feeling blue. It warms me up from the inside and brings a smile to my face whenever a large bubbling bowl of the famed Korean street food is placed beneath my drooling mouth. I can't remember the first time I had tteok-bokki, and my attempts at making a homemade version have always been a travesty. So as it's my dream main, I'd want it to come straight from a pocha.

Sides

There is no duality to this menu, as I continue the theme of unhealthy carb-heavy dishes. It wouldn't be a dream menu without hot chips. Not floppy McDonald's French fries or those abominable waffle fries, but hot chips, straight from the deep fryer of a fish and chip shop, wrapped up in an old newspaper. This Aotearoa staple must have a crisp exterior with a light and fluffy interior of potatoey goodness, caked in salt, served not with tomato sauce but with mayonnaise, the superior condiment.

What's your poison?

I want an endless supply of dangerously strong gin and tonics served in an ornate highball glass, with crushed ice and maybe a leaf of mint if I'm feeling fancy. This G&T won't be spiked with Gordon's, Beefeater or Seagers. Instead, I want Peddlers Shanghai gin, a favourite with mint, juniper berries and Sichuan pepper notes. Yes, this is definitely pretentious, but after many nights curled up on the bathroom floor due to cheap gins, I can't go back. Thankfully, since this is my dream drink, I'll get drunk and enjoy the false confidence it gives me, but I don't want a hangover.

Dessert (pronounced [deh-zert])

I don't want anything extravagant for my dream dessert, but rather a tiramisu made by an Italian nonna. Strong espresso and whipped cream are two of my favourites, so when you bring them together I'm in glucose heaven. After gorging myself on such a spread of carbohydrates, I'll need a pick-me-up, so the sugar and caffeine will bring me back to my usual glum self. If I'm feeling naughty, I'll ask for a slice in a takeaway container, so in the depths of the night, I can sneak to the fridge like I'm Nigella Lawson and enjoy my treat.

On this page you'll find 145 synonyms, antonyms, and words related to conclusion, such as: closure, completion, consequence, denouement, development, and ending.

As Gamble and Acaster recount a guest's dream menu, my calves begin to ache, signalling that it's time to go home and enjoy the respite that a bowl of food brings. The thought of what food I'll stuff myself with makes me walk like Roger Quemener. Because of the lockdown, I don't usually eat till midnight to cook peacefully away from prying eyes and loose mouths. As the pan sizzles and the extractor fan begins to hum, the magic of Off Menu is no more; tonight's episode has finished, but its ideas will be pervasive.

Two or so years on from this lockdown hyperfixation, I'm now writing an article that pays homage to Off Menu. A lot has changed since my first dream menu, so the one above is not written in stone; tomorrow, it all may change, but for now, I'm content. Camus said you'll "never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of", but I think happiness consists of a rice cake covered in a sweet and spicy sauce with cheese.

Afternoon Tea

By Briar Pomana (Ngāti Kahungunu, Rongomaiwahine, Ngāti Rakaipaaka) FEATURE WRITER

Manaakitanga is a fundamental personality trait you have to adopt if you want to consider yourself Māori. Commonly translated as hospitality and care, manaakitanga basically is about not being a dick and looking after those who come into your care, your home – anywhere where you happen to be. My closest cousin’s name is Manaaki and my name is Awhina. With names like these, our mums always make sure we remember it.

Manaaki and I grew up together on Whetumarama Street, just down the road from our little country school Waimanawa. Our school is pretty tiny and only has ten or so Pākehā families, who mostly live out of town in the farmlands. Our mate Gigi is one of ‘em whities and she’s become a part of our little crew. I remember my Aunty Deb having a good laugh as Manaaki and I rocked up to her place with our token white mate Gigi. After giving her a big kiss on the cheek, Aunty made the joke that Gigi better watch out or the two of us would eat her for afternoon tea.

We walked inside and were immediately struck by the smell of laundry powder and fresh bread. We took Gigi straight to the bathroom, washing our faces and hands. Gigi soothed her face as we passed her one of Auntie’s face cloths, carefully folded by the sink. As Manaaki flicked the jug on, Aunty began scaling the kitchen counter, reaching up to the highest shelf, pulling down a ClickClack container of home baking. Aunty usually keeps her stash up so high and behind an ice cream cone box because Uncle Boogie is too short to reach it. Otherwise he'll inhale everything before we even get a peek.

When Gigi introduced herself to Aunty Deb, she called herself Georgia. Manaaki and I were still wrapping our heads around the fact that Gigi wasn’t her ‘govy’ name. We were going to ask but thought that it was another Pākehā thing, like calling their parents by their first names, slamming doors, refusing to eat anything but pizza and chicken nuggets – you know the classic stuff that would make us just about faint.

Aunty Deb was the best baker hands down in the entire village. That’s what Manaaki and I had told Gigi anyway. As she sat at the head of the table, Manaaki and I bent and bowed around Aunty’s table, setting napkins in place, carefully placing butter dishes and jars of homemade jam atop macrame doilies. Gigi seemed to be enamoured by how synchronised and rehearsed we were. We had seen this dance many times before, and were essentially copying our parents' routines.

When the jug erupted with steam, the four of us sat around the table admiring the glorious spread Aunty had put on for us. It's an old-school Māori thing to always have home baking in case of manuhiri (visitors). My mum usually always has a brownie or a batch of shortbread biscuits and Manaaki’s Dad is a diver so kaimoana is never far from reach. We initially wanted to take Gigi over to their house, but Manaaki’s Dad and his fish heads in a pot deterred us. Aunty Deb told us to help ourselves, and that there was plenty of savoury kai in the fridge.

Aunty had made three slices, one ginger, one rhubarb and one rocky road. There were also cheese and chilli scones which, I had begged Mum to make after trying them at Nanny Dot’s high tea birthday. Aunty is really into pickling and preserving, and so an array of stout jars cluttered the table. Like any good afternoon tea, there were biscuits galore and a teapot older than Manaaki and me combined.

As Manaaki and I dove into our plates of kai, we watched Gigi look around the table, almost scanning the scene. Aunty must’ve noticed too, because she stopped eating and asked Gigi what she was after. Gigi looked at Manaaki and me as if we could read her mind. We all looked at her with blank stares as she sat silently with nothing on her plate. Gigi asked Aunty if she had any plain white bread, margarine and sprinkles. Aunty scoured the back of her baking cupboard looking for sprinkles. She found some hundreds and thousands at the very back that were god knows how old. Manaaki and I had to wait until our mate got her bread before we could continue. Aunty placed the slices of bread, a pound of butter and the container of sprinkles in front of Gigi. Gigi sniffed the bread and made a sour face. Manaaki and I pretended that we didn't notice. Luckily Aunty had gone back into the kitchen and hadn’t seen the face herself. After watching her examine the butter and sprinkles twice over, I had had enough.

I word-vomited out onto my poor Aunty’s table. I remembered all those times I’d witnessed girls like Gigi scoff and pinch their noses at what we had in our lunch boxes and I snapped. Gigi, Manaaki and Aunty sat dumbfounded as my voice whipped lashings at Gigi. Her face turned brighter than the raspberry jam in front of her, and the plate with bread that looked make-believe was pushed away. Gigi muttered something under her breath about how she doesn’t eat this type of food, which reminded me of a sleepover at Gigi’s house. It was here that I discovered why white girls in my netball team and at school were always so slim – their parents couldn’t cook. Of course Gigi would turn her nose up at Aunty Deb’s kai, because her idea of a snack was tasty cheese melted in the microwave on some white bread, and dinner was those frozen lasagna squares from BP.

Auntie pinched me hard under the table. I jumped in my seat and banged the tops of my thighs. Gigi fled to the door and wailed as Manaaki gulped down the rest of her tea and ran after her, with Gigi’s backpack banging into her hip as she struggled to get it over her shoulder.

Ten minutes later, Manaaki walked back alone. I was drying the dishes carefully, as Aunty stacked them venomously in the dish rack. I was avoiding eye contact at all costs. Aunty Deb doesn’t ‘do’ tears, least of all from little Pākehā girls who were visitors in her whare. I knew that I had crossed a line and that my mother would be hearing all about it.

As Manaaki strode into the kitchen, Aunty and I fell silent. Only the clang of a couple of mugs and clatter of some cutlery could be heard. Manaaki helped us finish off the dishes and shake out the table cloth in the garden for the birds. Still no one had spoken. Aunty wiped down the bench and grabbed the packet of ciggies from on top of the fridge – so Uncle Boogie couldn’t steal them. Manaaki and I went to slump into the couch in the lounge when we heard Aunty Deb call from the deck. The cicadas seemed to rejoice in the fact they’d get their hourly nicotine hit.

Auntie ordered us to sit down on the rickety outdoor seating as she took big tugs from her smoke. She looked us up and down and told us that she agreed with what was said but that it wasn’t tika or a part of how we were raised. Manaaki and I nodded solemnly. Out in the backyard Uncle Boogie was busy fixing the chook house. Uncle Boogie was a Pākehā, and Aunty said she could’ve walloped him the first time she brought him home to meet the whānau. This was back when he was still known as Patrick. She said unlike Gigi, he couldn’t stop gorging himself on the shared kai, and that he nearly ate our poor Nanny out of house and home.

Manaaki let out a giggle which was quickly snuffed by Auntie Deb’s stern advice. “Our manuhiri are our top priority when they come into our space.” She said that we must make them feel welcome through kai, care and manners, because that is what we do as Māori. As we nodded our heads again, we were told to go and mihi to our Uncle and walk back to our own homes. I knew as soon as Auntie Deb had finished her smoke, she’d be on the phone to our mums, telling them we ran Gigi out of her home. Manaaki and I walked slowly down the driveway and towards Whetumarama Street.

That night, I speed-dialled Manaaki before bedtime. We had both been given lectures and punishments that weren’t glamorous but appropriate. Manaaki was going to be helping Nan and the other oldies at housie for the next few weeks, and I was going to be on pot duty at the iwi meeting on the weekend. Both chores were chosen because they entailed manaaki ki ngā tangata, or the care of others.

For the rest of the school year, Manaaki and I were shunned by Gigi, but that felt right anyway. We don’t think she told her parents, because otherwise they’d be down at Auntie Deb’s house making a right ruckus. We waved our white flags at the breakdown of that weird little friendship willingly. There’s been many times where Manaaki and I needed to live up to our names, despite people being ignorant towards our food, ways and our culture. We remember what Auntie Deb said, we manaaki, we awhi and we make sure anyone that comes into our space, including our whenua, feels welcome, fed and looked after. That’s what we do as Māori and as a whānau. It is tika.

First Thursdays

Karangahape Road

Thursday, September 7th

Free!

A monthly celebration in the cultural hub of central Tāmaki. Live music, markets and food stalls.

- Music at Pocket Park 5pm-9pm

- Local markets at Beresford Square and St Kevins Arcade

- Substance Checking at The Hemp Store

- Muckaround Comedy at Whammy Bar

ZINEFEST Auckland Zinefest Closing Party

East St. Hall

Saturday, September 2nd

Free!

Auckland Zinefest 2023 is going out with a bang, showcasing the Best Of The Fest awards, live music and poetry readings!

This is an all-ages event until 10pm — everyone under 18 must be accompanied by a parent or guardian.

WHAT'S ON WHAT'S ON WHAT'S ON WHAT'S ON AUGUST - OCTOBER 2023

PLAY

Academy Cinemas: Frosty Flicks

Academy Cinemas

Friday, September 8thSunday, September 24th

$14 Student

Your local cinema brings you a collection of gems set in the midst of winter's cold embrace. Get ready for frosty locales and snow-covered worlds from a wide array of arthouse and cult cinema!

WELLINGTON BALLROOM Arawhata

October

$30 concession

Wellington Ballroom brings you Arawhata, a joyful celebration of dance, live music, cultural performance and underground ballroom - a rich and vibrant LGBTQ+ subculture that emerged out of Harlem, New York in the '70s.

Awarded Best Ensemble, Momentous Movement and Best in Fest at the NZ Fringe Festival 2023.