Christchurch Spiced Mussels - health benefits unleashed?

There have been lots of people interested in how my dad Robin is going in his battle with cancer. He was diagnosed with the rarest and most aggressive form of lung cancer early in April. He was a life long smoker. He had a 7.5cm tumour in the lower part of one lung. He was told his outlook was not good. His ability to take any form of treatment has been hampered by the fact that since dad was about 12 he has only had one kidney and in the last few years it has been a bit shakey. Dad was told that he would be given chemo in very light doses and some radiation treatment.

Anyway one of dad old mates, when he heard of dads plight,  offered to give him some pills his company  developed - a combination of a highly concentrated form of mussel oil and curcumin and piperine.

He said he had given them free to some of his close friends who had been diagnosed with cancer- and he  told me  "they are doing ok."

Clinical trials of curcumin are underway at Leicester university to look  at ways to increase  its efficacy. Piperine is considered to be one substance that allows the curcumin to have a better effect.
I told dad that there were no promises but he said that he was happy to give it ago.

Dads  tumor has shrunk to nothing - the doctors have upped his treatments as he has responded so startlingly. He takes 23 pills a day. and has taken them since mid April.
He has been told that he has gone from being in the 90% of people who will die in a reasonably short time with this cancer to the 10% who will probably live for some time.
Anyway I think dads mate is a very smart man - self made , a pioneer in the seafood industry and he has a degree in physics.

So people have asked me just what dad has been taking . The pills are  manufactured and marketed by Bio MER here in Christchurch.

 

Press on the link to find out about them.

I think that my good mate  may well be onto something. Time will tell. But I can say that dads recovery has surprised his doctors - astonished some in fact.

Dad is convinced the pills are a key factor in his recovery and I think he is right.

Glorious, Gorgeous and Free.

Finally I managed to take a week off  from working on the Christchurch Rebuild. All I wanted to do was spend time at our wee piece of paradise up the mystical  Rangitumau Valley  and get out  and about with my friends and  enjoy the culinary and bacchanalian pleasures of the Big Valley during the month of Wellington on a Plate. My holiday  got off to a great start - first up was  the Glorious 12th - a day of shooting and sumptuous food modelled on the Scottish day marking the first of the Grouse Hunting season,  held at one of the Wairarapas fine homesteads -Sulphur Wells.  I discovered I cant shoot for shit - well clay birds at least.  So I think I will have to stick at being somewhat of an expert in dressing feathered things as I am a muttonbirder and pluck and gut and cook I can.

 

The  day  progressed from shooting  to the piping of the haggis, and then the quaint and often hilarious "addressing of the haggis"  a  sacred ceremony of great import.  Then it was off to dinner to dine on a dish outrageous as it was tasty - the legendary Turducken. Turkey, stuffed with duck stuffed with chicken. I was hoping for a quail tucked  up its bum but alas twas not to be. The haggis was very good perhaps not as chunky as some but devoured with gusto.

The wines were from Urlar and its affable owner and Scotsman  Angus Thompson was resplendent in his kilt  with its badger sporran . Urlars wines are some of the best in the Wairarapa - and indeed a star performer in the  Gladstone sub region. The whites in particular are flinty with considerable depth and length. Wines to be savoured not quaffed.

The second Wellington on a plate event  was  the  gorgeous ladies lunch. And GOOOORGOUS it was. About a 100 well coiffured women turned out to wine, dine and whisper loudly of food, politics and family. Catered by the  Medici café in Martinborough  - the fare was rich and aromatic .   The wine  was from the Poppies vineyard - which is also home  to the stunning Poppies function venue where  for the feast redolent of Casablanca enthralled us all .  Poppies Pinot Gris, in the Alsace style was  superb but at  $40 for a take home bottle a little pricey.

It was also a privilege to meet Mary Biggs of  Lavenders Green Fame. It was warming to meet so many inspiring and talented and well connected women who keep the wheels of commerce and community turning in the Wairarapa.  It will  be a must attend event next year .

Finally a good and talented friend   who stayed with me  and was my plus 1 for the  gorgeous ladies lunch,   bought me a jar of  olives she had brined herself as a gift for her bed.The interesting thing was they were from  trees planted in Roxborough St in Wellington  by the WCC for public use.  This is an idea that appeals to the  forager hunter gatherer in me. I'm happy to climb fences to pick  damsons from an ancient plum trees on my travels around Wairarapa   and on a dewy autumn mornings can be found, basket in hand, merrily  picking  the freshest of field fungi for my brunch.

Thank you Wellington on a Plate Wairarapa team. You did good.

 

WRITERS BLOCK MELTED

Must be the silky soft keyboard of my new HP envy - its a little bit notebook and a lot tablet. The old man is crook. He has the Big C as its found fertile ground in his nicotine soaked lungs.  Anyway  he is carrying on doing the things he loved. I have always loved writing so I am going to write what I want when I want. Roarprawn was a blog started in another time in my life and its flavour changed over the years. It will change again - less political but always irreverent.

HAYESY HAY DAY

Today we baled and stacked 300 bales of hay. It was a bit of a family affair, Mum always at the ready with a cuppa and a scone,  Dad,76 with one kidney and some dodgy pipe work happy to get on an ancient Fergy tractor and haul it around the paddock that has some tight corners. We started the job yesterday in 29 degrees - today was  aslightly cooler but sticky 27 degrees uncomfortable.

And then there is the Rock who has a passion for doing things the old way which means using old stuff. Some of it 30 - 50 years old. We had our moments - the Holland Baler busted its boiler a couple of times but the Rock , as he almost always does , fixed it. And the Hay conveyor chewed bales for a while till we worked out a bulging guiding rod was the culprit  it was fixed in a paddock moment with the most intricate of tools  - a sledgehammer. Two bangs and dang if it didn't slide the bales up like butter. 

Son Matthew joined us for the last round of the paddock so there were three generations of Campbells outstanding in their field. It also meant the oldest skited to the youngest by ripping round the paddock  only to be sworn at to slow down. Dad might want to do a lot of things at his age but apparently driving a  62 bedford truck scooping up hay sedately is not one of them. 

The bales were neatly stacked in our shed  - almost all of them - a mate took about 60 straight from the paddock for her stock. 

As I sit here typing this , Im still feeling the scratch of a lonely grass wand on my slightly less ample arse  but  no one stirs. 

Asleep they are  -  dreaming of big bales and noisy machines, dust and a very tidy stack, a cleansing shower  and the smell of Mums fresh scones and my strawberry preserves from the house and a cold beer.   

BEAT UP OF THE YEAR

What a complete load of tosh. This is another example of  speculative journalism. Take a pinch of facts chuck in some fame seeking expert. Look at the worst case scenario and report it. 

Mind you if the birds glow in the dark they will be easier to catch.

However we are pretty confident that the titi's biggest threat is a hungry Rakiura Maori chap or chapess.

FINE WINE AND LODGINGS

Today was a great day. We woke up early at Spring Creek  motorcamp and I shot down to the creek to feed the eels.  They fought with the ducks and trout  for a few crumbs of bread.

Then we decided on a trip up the Wairau Valley. Our first stop was a small pub at Wairau Valley township where we had a toasted sandwich and I had a half of Matsons lager..  It was a nice light drop.

Then we went to one of a myriad spots that motorvan owners (mo'vanners) like ma and pa know about. Todays visual treat was Lake Argyle which is a small canal lake that is diverted from the Branch  and Leatham  Rivers to create a bit of power.. It holds a few fish - so ma and I went for a stroll to the big rivers while dad had a couple of casts in Argyle. While he claims he got a few nibbles there were  no fish in his bag on our return.  

On the way back  to Picton and our final night in the South, we stopped to get some cherries for lambcut  and some good white wines . I wanted some nice aromatics to go with the crayfish dishes I have planned for Boxing Day. 

So I purchased a six pack of  Gewurztraminer, Toru and Pinot Gris from Te Whare Ra wines. 

I have a few recipes to try out and will blog about the matches after Xmas. 

I am no true believer in biodynamic practices but  I am a  believer in loving the land and nurturing it and whatever the Flowerdays are doing it is good for the grape. Their wines are probably some of the most complex and interesting aromatics in the country. 

And I cant wait to pair them up with a range of crayfish,  whitebait,  and smoked eel dishes. 

Today was a brilliant day.. some great sights, fantastic people and good food and wine.. It doesn't get much better.. 

A GOOD BED AND A TANIWHA

Tonight we are in the Spring Creek motor camp. Its a lovely wee place and we are again in a cabin for $80.  So what did i get for $80?  A really nice bed  clean as , a bright and clean duvet a clean toilet and shower. 

Its old and built of concrete block but perfectly adequate.

Its light years away from this hell  hole in Kaikoura.

And this holiday park is set up for kids and has a delightful spring fed creek thats home to some huge trout and eels. 

Its the quintessential new zealand holiday park. 

KACK IN KAIKOURA

We  are on the first stay of a three day trip from Christchurch to Wellington. So far it has been fabulous to spend some time with mum and dad in their faithful steel steed - their motorhome known as Bugsys Burrow.  We stopped at Waipara Springs  winery for a stellar coffee and bought a couple of bottles of wine  and then stopped in Cheviot and had a noisy in a fabulous antique shop. Then we looked into a lovely gallery and struck up a conversation to find in ten seconds  flat that we found an acquaintance we had in common. This seems to be a national sport for Kiwis. Work out with a stranger someone you both know in the shortest time possible. With well travelled parents and a chirpy and inquiring old man - its a daily occurrence.  Now we are not too precious about where we stay on out trips and it makes it easier if its a camping ground with a power site for ma and pa and a cabin for me - that way we can stay together.  Their motor home is cosy for 2 but cramped for 3. So our first night park  up is in a place called the A1 Motel in Kaikoura. Its a place probably built in the 70's and its bloody tired.  Now we dont really mind tired but we dont abide grubby and this one is grubby.  It was $30 for the power site for ma and pa and $70 for my room.
We have with us some precious cargo - a mate who owns a lobster exporting company gave us over a dozen cray tails for xmas.  so a fridge is good. I unpacked them and put them in the fridges freezer and as i closed the door it fell off. Landed on my toe..  it hurt. but i could not help laughing.  the sheets are clean but the toilet would be a great centrepiece in a horror movie of the genesis of some alien life form.
So we wont be back. But like all good holidays the bad experiences are all part of the trip.  This morning we are off to cruise around Blenheim. A mate has offered us a cuppa tea and some fresh xmas baking.  And then Sunday sees us in Picton for the big crossing on BlueBridge.

HORSESHIT AND BIODYNAMICS

A few weeks ago when the International Big Oil was in town a few media politeratti and cliteratti gathered for a bit of a catch up.

There was good wine to be had.  Lots of it - we were buying and sharing our favourites with  others . 

A well known media personality presented us with a new wine.  

It was cloudy and sorry boys - but it was the colour of a mucky period.. 

A diseased ruby color. 

We all sniffed inquisitively and as I cast my eyes around the table it was clear that this was not an ephiphanistic drop. 

We sipped but our palates were in obvious agreement - it was not a great wine. 

The purchaser of this bemusing wine was aghast - "Its bio dynamic! " he exclaimed 

Moments like these are always dangerous for us sheilas of advancing years and bladder valves worn by too many evenings on the hops as a young un. 

We were characteristically blunt. "Its crap." 

Others murmured in agreement . To be fair some thought it was okay  - drinkable at a pinch - " A quaffer " someone proffered.

Then the buyee of the bottle thundered  "Its $245.. "

About $10 bucks worth shot out the left side on my mouth. 

A mate lost control of her muscles and spilt a $20 bucks on the table as she jerked in reaction to the revelation. 

Then we proceeded to take the piss out of the plonk. It was universally declared ordinary. 

Bio dynamics is a wonderful marketing ploy by the organic lobby. Medieval mysticism gone moderne. 

Now I grow a few veges  and we have cows and sheep a horse and chooks and as everyone knows manure is good for you. I use it extensively  and the results are glorious. Use lots of manure and you get robust, lush fecund fauna. 

 However playing in shit filling up horns cos they are the seemingly magical   "fertile" bit of the bovine and burying them to mature the said crap  is just frikking daft. 

Doing it in time with the moon and sun indicates that the believers have been exposed to too many solar flares. 

Now in this video  up on the Seresin Wine Site (which I think has some of the finest wine in the world) is an example of  how this pseudo science is being peddled. 

<iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/forejgHXqD4" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen>iframe>

Some cute guy  playing with poo somehow seems romantic when the dreamy scenes are linked to lush vineyards. 

He looks like some agrarian Merlin piling the poop into horns for it to mature in the earth to wait a while for it to turn into plant superfood. 

The simple fact is - if you line up a biodynamic vineyard and one that uses natural fertilisers like manure broken down in the old fashioned way, the results would be the same. 

Its not the moon or the sun or the "fertile horn"  or even the steadfast belief of the cute guy that's creating good wine. Its a modern myth. 

Its simply that shit is the biz when it comes to making things grow. 

And its time that this weird wine wankery was unmasked for what it is  - bollocks. 

Some biodynamic wine will be good in spite of the all the jiggery pokery .  Because shit is good for the soil.  But all the biodynamic ritual adds no value

The shit is where its at. 

So to all you good wine makers out there - stop taking the piss - us good wine drinkers deserve more respect .

Their is truth in the vine - tell it. 

ADORABULL

We have two heifers of an age where calfhood is calling. One is a big rangy freisian called Missy - the other is a wee Angus called The Angus. 

Now we also have a steer known as Bullocky  who is destined for the freezer before Xmas. 

Now we know that the heifers are keen for a calf as they have been indulging in a  bit of lesbian tribbing and the steer seems to be keen to dry hump the girls - so its fair to say that all involved are happy campers.. 

So we have the lend of a bull. He maybe a dependabull, hopefully  loveabull and definitely  we need him to be rootabull.  

However there is  a small problem... He is a bit on the short side - so he has been wandering around the paddock looking a little forlorn despite the best come hither advances of the two heifer hussys. He is going to have to step up and in a flat paddock he has a bit of a handicap. 

So only time will tell if Harry the Hereford X will be up to quite a tall order.. 

GIVE A PENGY A CHANCE

Our mates in the VRWC have been joshing with us all day. There have been about 1200 birds killed by the RENA oil slick. Our mates argue that while it seems a lot its not big in the scheme of things. Maybe they are right - they normally are. However we do  think that DOC needs a big thumbs up for co-ordinating the effort to save the pandas of NZ bird world  - The Dotterel. Its a sisyphean task that requires passion and dogged determination in the face of insurmountable odds.

They are funny wee birds that hide on the shore line and put their nests in the silliest of places. The go for bloody miles to find a feed and when the chips are down they will abandon their chicks and its not like they have a big brood - nope they only have a couple  or three at best. 

In essence they wiggled their fluffy arses just enough to make a wee indent in the sand and squeeze out a couple or three bumnuts. But just above the high tide zone is the equivalent of gang riven  Farmers Crescent.  Its hell out there.  All manner of predators  lurk there from skua, stoats and the heavy feet of hairy legged trampers. So what happens if the eggs or chicks get killed? Well the dotterels are persistent - they go and wiggle there wee botties and do it all over again.

So they are as succesful as parents as Sonny Bill Williams would be at trying to maintain a hard on in a locked room with only Helen Clark for company.

We reckon Dotterel  are  winged Pandas because despite the fact that they are deliriously cute, these little feathered moths  that flit almost undetectable on the sandy shore line - need human support to exist. So New Zealand, is  in essence, providing state support for the useless dotterel parents. What do NZ'ers get in return? bugger all as you cant see the wee buggers as they only thing they are much good at is camouflage.  However they would stick out like the balls on a St Bernard against the oil stained sand. 

You see our mates reckon that we have  had a far greater impact on the country's bird population - killing over 40,000 muttonbirds singletoothedly over our lifetime. That is very true. We are of course very old  so its taken nearly half a century to reach that figure. So while we have dispatched a lot of oily birds to eat  - the  RENA's oily slick  hasn't really eaten a lot of birds. 

However, we think that what is really worth saving is the little blue penguin.. The wee pengys never fail to raise a smile either on land or at sea. Gentle wee buggers  - efficient hunters and good mums and dads.  And they apparently taste like crap. 

We like that in a bird.

and what is our favourite Seabird? This one of course-  

The Mollymawk 

There is nothing that comes close to the grace of these birds and their amazing faces. 

They are welcome to come steal my fish anytime. 

THE BITTERNESS OF GALLS

As we were watching the big game last night between NZ and Australia we mused to our Aussie partner, the Rock, that despite the vilification of Quade Cooper, there were many signs that NZ and Australia were finally  understanding that we had more in common than not. 

The mere fact that a kiwi born boy like Quade called Australia home, as do hundreds of thousands of New Zealanders, is a case in point. He is well aware and proud of his kiwi heritage but for him Aussie is home and he wears the Aussie jersey proudly. 

We think that Cooper is an outstanding athlete - he is Sean Maitland's cousin so his sporting lineage goes back aways. 

So despite the loss to the kiwis last night one of the big names in Australia sports writing is calling on  his country to get behind the kiwis in their quest for the cup. 

We agree. The All Blacks French final should see the All Blacks trump the Frogs. And while the world knows the strength of our rivalry with Australia the world may not realise that we have never got over the Gallic bastards coming over here to blow up a boat in our waters.