Thursday, 25 December 2008

Exploding bread at the tangi - aue!

From: Margret Sent: 20/08/2005 12:20 p.m.

Tangi over Fauntleroy

The long-distant flyers came in:  Darryn Fenton from London, Adam Patuwairua from Australia and Roger Fenton from Los Angeles and they joined those of us from the two motu.  Rosalie Elkington travelled from the South Island and Marlin Elkington flew from Blenheim.  Missy (Rosalie) had every reason to be proud of her son who was a fine spokesman speaking on behalf of the whanau when the various karanga had taken place.  Indeed, the kaumatua who shared the role with him were highly complimentary as to Marlin's whaikorero and demeanour.

To make a tangi work, there are a huge number of people to be grateful for their kindness, understanding and fortitude in the face of disasters.  To whom do I refer?  Well, the kitchen staff.  The spic and span caring and gleaming was in the hands of the Litchwark family whilst others were at the cemetery.  Eddie and his wife Sandra were stoic people and I recognise their support along with their nieces and their own son, Tamati..

Part of the tangi's memory will be enhanced by those who were privy to the breadmaking disaster; the cause of many sessions of shambolic laughter.  The first night that I was entrusted with the recipe, given by Dad's cousin, whom I call Baba, alias Noreen Kirkwood, nee Pirikahu, alias Mereaina.  I said to Sandra and Eddie,  'It's ok, Baba has said for me to make it'.  I re-checked, yes I was right.  And so I made up the mixture and it was so large that the jar of yeast for 10 kg flour needed 6 people kneading the ever-growing mixture.   Uncle Martin Toa took one monstrous tray full of mixture to his shop and truly made a crust of six inches top and bottom and still about 6 inches edible in the middle.  The top and bottom, cut off, made wonderful replacement asphalt strips or tyre retreads as he burnt the bread good and proper. 

Next came, breadmaking disaster for the second night when Baba told me to make 5kg flour mix.  Scientifically, I worked it out arithmetically a guess and added a few more yeast sprinkles and set the mixture into the 7 foot high warming cabinet - designed for KFC chicken - and I went for a shower.  I had PERSUADED Sandra and Eddie to go home as I thought I could handle anything and that no one would know that I was in charge of making the rewana bread again.  I was hailed from the shower, clothed, and approached the kitchen to see a battle area.

Richard and Malcolm were scraping up dough from the floor and from the inside the cabinet.  It had rather cascaded everywhere.  Except for the clicking of those whanau members who were taking PXT photos galore; few ventured to continue laughing because Richard and Aunty Gemma Toa were going hard out and didin't see the funny side because of the pressure.  The chain-gang working on the mini-mattress-sized dough pushing forward like larva was being worked on by floured hands who cracked up laughing safely when I saw the funny side of the 'secret' breadmaking I had started. 

The two massive trays contained the worked on dough to prove and then placed in the oven to cook.  Uncle Martin Toa stayed until 2.30 am with Aynsley and myself after Malcolm finally caved in to tiredness at 12.15 am and after the scalp massage given to her by Aynsley, Val went to bed after 12.30 am.  The first loaf was put in the oven about 11.25 pm and the oven speed checked by Uncle Martin.  The second huge dish of shaped loaves, entirely left to my hands, under supervision by Uncle Martin, cooked until brought out at 2.35 am.  Uncle Martin drew a slice from the first hour-cooled bread and it looked fabulous.  What a relief.!  The second lot when brought out looked more fabulousier - instant sensation.  Awesome bread, golden, not even looking like Rewana paoraoa bread.  I went into the wharemoe and woke up Richard to come into the kitchen and film us stoic bakers with our revealed bread.

The compliments abounded the next day and many eyes of disbelief about the humourous disaster turning into the best bread of sourdough-style.  Me,  I have a reputation of The Greatest Messiest Explodingest Breadkmaker in the history of the Hungariri marae and the Fenton Whanui - pictured!

1 comment:

Mrs Margret said...

From: Sherrie Sent: 30/08/2005 9:46 a.m.
Dear Margret,

If I had known about your bread-making exploits at Hips tangi, surely I would have asked Roger to bring me a few bites as a fitting way to be part of the occasion. I don't cook or bake much, so am doubly impressed that you 'rose' to the yeast-filled challenge, finding success after just one practice run. Perhaps when you come to visit you'd like to test your hand again to see what happens next? I would gladly assist, but the only question is whether our kitchen is big enough to handle the multiplication of the loaves...?

Thank you for printing the article from the Taranaki News on the website, as I couldn't find it on the internet. Hip was certainly a gifted man, whose strength and tenacity I think he passed along to the family, along with the marvelous ability to absorb historical, technical and just about any other type of information, and then turn around and present it accurately and comprehensively. I was lucky to have been able to get to know him over the years, and always came away impressed by his wealth of information and variety of experiences, a real pioneering spirit. The other way he was truly wealthy was in having a loving family who always stuck by him, and this was especially shown over these past years while he was in the nursing home. I know it was his family that kept him going and gave him the most pleasure in life, and he kept that spark of interest going and didn't want to miss anything that was happening. Mona did a wonderful job of keeping him connected to all the happenings and involving him in the family. It was always a comfort to know that Val an her family lived close enough to pay him frequent visits and were making sure that Hip got good care and kept his spirits up. We were also glad whenever we heard that you and Richard could visit Hip, since we couldn't be there except on the rare occasion. And thank you Margret for the website, which has kept us all connected in ways we couldn't be before, to our family history and to each other. I wish that Rangi and I could have been with the family to remember Hips life and times at the tangi, but the stories won't be forgotten. And I have many happy memories of him from times that we stayed with him and Mona. Hip always cooked us breakfast, I think trying to fatten up Rangi. Where Hip left off, Mona took over with lunch and always a lavish dinner that she would whip up like it was second nature to her. Complete with dessert. I could never tell if Rangi was putting on any weight, but Roger and I always had mysteriously smaller clothes by the end of our visit.

Well, Margret, I will be readying the aprons in preparation for the bread-making soiree, complete with safety glasses, fire extinguisher and cleanup gear (although the cleanup crew will now be Roger and Richard!) As for the yeast, perhaps brewers... just bring along a six-pack of DB (for the cooks, not the dough) and I'm sure the results will be inspired...

Love, Sherrie