Issue 6 - Hospitality by Salient

CONTENTS 06-11

12-15

News

How Beloved Local Buisnesses Have Adapted To Covid-19 (Feature)

Understaffed and Overworked (Feature)

22-24

Beer in Mind (Feature)

Poem

26-27

28-35

36-38

Everybody Dig In (Feature)

Culture & Columns

Entertainment

20-21 Centerfold

About Us Salient is published by, but remains editorially independent from, the Victoria University of Wellington Students’ Association (VUWSA). Salient is funded in part by VUWSA through the Student Services Levy. Salient is a member of the Aotearoa Student Press Association (ASPA). The views expressed in Salient do not necessarily reflect those of the Editor, VUWSA, or the University. Complaints Complaints regarding the material published in Salient should first be brought to the Editor in writing (editor@salient.org.nz). If not satisfied with the response, complaints should be directed to the Media Council (info@mediacouncil.org.nz).

16-19

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You Are Where You Eat EDITORIAL Everyone has their local: a bar, restaurant or café they swear by. I’ve noticed that our locals can become a part of our personality, a place others know they can find us at. Visit often enough, and your identity and that establishment become inseparable. Whether there is a cause for celebration or a loss to mourn, your local usually has your back. You aren’t just what you eat, but where you eat. If I am where I eat… I am a bite of a bánh mì from Nam D, a munch of jian bing from Mr Circle, a nibble of fried chicken from Lucky, a slurp of handpulled noodles from A Taste of Home, and a gulp of bubble tea from Gong Cha. Call it obsession or love, frequenting Gong Cha has become one of my defining characteristics. I’m known to drag my friends there, insisting, “there is a bubble tea flavour for everyone,” even though I know it to be an acquired taste. Their extensive menu is unparalleled to other bubble tea stores, and they always cook their pearls just right. Earlier this year, Gong Cha had a mango pearl shortage for over a month. They taped a handwritten note over the register that notified customers of the toppings they had run out of. Every single day, I would strategically walk past the store, and poke my head through the door to see if the sign had been taken down. When their shipment finally arrived from overseas, I ran in to place my order and almost shed a tear when my drink was made. Covid-19 has shed light on just how important it is to support our hospitality industry, particularly small local businesses. Over the past month, I’ve seen notices of temporary closure of places like Prefab and Laundry, who could not open due to Omicron. Chef Hoon of Havana Bar even posted an emotional plea on Instagram, urging patrons to support locals because “our staff need to pay rent, they need food and drinks”.

This issue is hospitality-themed for a few reasons. Firstly, because Wellington prides itself on its hospitality scene—we boast that we allegedly have more eateries per capita than New York City. That being said, our local businesses have suffered deeply due to Covid-19, and Salient wants to do its part in supporting them. But most of all, this issue is dedicated to all of our students who work tirelessly in hospo to make ends meet. We see you, and we thank you. In our features this week: Zoë explains how local businesses have adapted to the pandemic, Maia finds out what it really means to work at Maccas, Lauren discusses the gender politics of beer, and Kaitlyn pays a visit to Everybody Eats. We also have a bunch of reviews! Jack runs you through his top ten Wellington eateries, Phoebe weighs up different bars under Traffic Light Red, and in our news section, Beth investigates what club ranks supreme in the eyes of freshers. If you take one thing away from this editorial, treat the staff that work at your local with dignity. Ask the girl that assembles your burgers what her name is. Befriend your barista. Thank your bartender for always remembering your order. A little kindness goes a long way. Ngā manaakitanga,

JANHAVI GOSAVI (SHE/HER)

Hospitality is a personal affair.

www.salient.org.nz

To whoever stocks the Vic vending machines, please restock blue I can’t live with V Pure for any longer. This is urgent. Can VUWSA please start a petition or an open letter to deal with this? It would be a less controversial issue than the other referendums.

Letters To The Editor

Blue V addict in Kelburn

Where are the breathers? Thank god they’re not here. I saw a post on VUW Meaningful Confessions saying that someone wished breathers lived in Wellington. My view is that they should stay in Otago, reeking of piss and beer bottles, rather than ruining the alty vibe of our Coolest Little Capital. Keep your DJ decks elsewhere.

FRIENDS

Letter to the editor It is disappointing that information presented by Salient in the article titled VUW Halls Investigation (28 March 2022) is out of date and that the University was not given an opportunity to comment in the story. Such stories have a devastating impact on staff in our halls of residence, who work tirelessly to provide care for residents and respond to stressful situations all day every day while students are in residence. We believe that living in one of our halls enriches our students’ university experience. To make this accessible, we offer a range of accommodation, including catered halls of residence and flats and apartments close to our three Wellington campuses. Each year the University faces increases to operating expenses, including insurance, maintenance, rents and rates, residential adviser salaries, and catering and core utilities. The University does not make any profit off its halls of residence and has, in fact, budgeted for a deficit this year, based on a real desire to hold rentals as low as possible despite increasing financial pressure. We encourage students to contact their Head of Hall or the University’s accommodation service if they have any questions.

Rainsforth Dix Director, Student and Campus Living

@splendid.nz 85 Ghuznee St, Te Aro, Wellington www.splendid.nz

Kick-start your career

The Freshest Bars - As Ranked By First-Years Words by Beth Mountford (she/her) and Stan Hallett Pullen (he/him) As night drew in on a blustery Wellington Saturday, we received orders from the upper echelon of Salient News Incorporated: Go to town and find out what the freshers are up to. As two twenty-four-year-olds, we felt somewhat under(over?)qualified. Our days of catching our reflection in the Estab bathroom mirror at 2 a.m. and philosophising with strangers about hedonism and the pursuit of happiness died with the pandemic. Has the world of drunken socialising changed since then? These freshers are a new breed—the arguably wildest years of their lives have been marred by lockdowns, mask wearing, and social distancing. How do the Covid-19 generation enjoy themselves in the aftermath of the worst thing to happen to nightlife in human history? Armed with thinly veiled social anxiety and a yearning for insight— Salient sent us to find out. Our first port of call, Mishmosh, showed no signs of the aforementioned mask wearing, nor social distancing, but the vibes appeared to be in check. Josh, a bartender at the club, told me as he poured our vodka Red Bulls, “This is the best bar because everyone comes here.” “We got two floors, a pretty chill environment,” he continued. I looked over my shoulder at the utter chaos behind me and caught a glance of a “downstairs closed” sign by the stairs. “Well, relatively chill—it is a bar you know?” he added.

Everyone else we spoke to at Mishmosh agreed that Vinyl and Shady Lady were really the most fresherfrothed bars. So we headed there next. The lines for both bars were amalgamated and enormous—a testament to their popularity. All of the patrons were very loyal when asked what their favourite bars were. Shady and Vinyl were quoted to be the favourite for myriad reasons, including “everyone just started going there,” “everyone seems to go there,” and “Shady has a stripper pole”. We never actually made it inside either bar—the redlight restrictions meant that most bars were operating on a one-in, one-out policy, so the lines were slowmoving. The vodka Red Bull began to wear off after a solid forty minutes of belligerently yelling to “Mr Brightside” and “Stacy’s Mom.” Our impatience and jaded alcoholism drew us back into the Courtenay Place scrum in search of accessible pints. Eva Beva yielded mixed reports. It got a bad rap initially for committing the worst crime against freshers since the slug in the KJ food: selling $5 shots that were allegedly watered down. Sally, a fresher from Vic House, said that she felt ripped off after visiting the bar last night. “I spent $25 at Eva Beva and I was sober,” she said. Another student, who preferred to see the glass as

instinct to go out and get mortalled. Their enthusiasm is medicine for a city whose nightlife has been on life support; their student allowance props up the local bars we love to hate. But in almost every case, the lawless culture of the lines outside actually proved to be more thrilling than being in the clubs themselves. Maybe the whole concept of ‘bars’ overcomplicates things, and the best place for freshers to party is simply on the streets. half-full, said she didn’t mind that the shots were watered down, it was the illusion of alcohol that was important.

Note: all names are pseudonyms.

“If you pre-drink you don’t even notice,” she said. We skipped Dakota after getting various negative reviews, and headed to the bar with the worst possible name one could think of… Moustache. The premises of Moustache used to host the mighty Electric Avenue, more recently it was the tacky but reliable Danger Danger. And now it’s been demoted even further to a hellish crossover between 2014 at Typo and a craft beer bro’s man cave. Yuck. Anyway, the omnipresent freshers didn’t seem to mind and the bar seemed to rank a solid third on the freshometer (welp!). Despite Covid-19’s impact, spirits were high. We found ourselves intoxicated by the resilient fresher

Fees Rebate Rejected by VUW Words by Beth Mountford (she/her)

Acting Vice-Chancellor Jennifer Windsor has rejected Victoria University of Wellington Students’ Association’s request for all trimester one fees to be refunded. VUWSA made this request in an open letter to the acting Vice-Chancellor earlier this month, citing Covid-19 disruptions and the Pipitea Campus closure as a justification. In a letter addressed to VUWSA President Ralph Zambrano, Windsor wrote, “We are not able to provide a blanket fee rebate for students; we will instead work to provide the best educational opportunities and pastoral care that we can for students at a time they need these services most.” Windsor says that the university is working with student representatives to help students in other ways, such as “lowering the financial bar for hardship support, providing a rebate to students in our catered halls, lessening the documentation needs for fee reconsideration,” and funding Covid-19 care packages. Windsor expressed interest in a student forum in order to hear from “a wider student audience”; reminiscent of “Rant with Grant”—an annual event that used to be held in the hub with previous Vice-Chancellor Grant Guilford.

The letter also stated that the university was “exploring accommodations” for students who cannot complete assignments by the end of trimester one due to Covid-19. Ryan Hooper-Smith, VicLabour’s chairperson, said that he was unsurprised by the university’s rejection of the fees rebate, but criticised the dismissive acknowledgement of the request presented in the open letter. “Some of the actions the university are taking genuinely help students, but they are ignoring the premise of the open letter—that the level of education the university is providing to students is not on par with what everyone signed up to, and students are really struggling,” he said. VUWSA President Ralph Zambrano says that the outcome is disappointing and that, while other university support is acknowledged and welcomed, “more can and should be done to properly support students”. “It is our role to be aspirational in our support for students. Pushing for financial recourse through consideration to course fees is only one avenue,” he said. www.salient.org.nz

Mobile Barbershop: A Hair-Raising Experience in Town Words by Azaria Howell (she/her)

Walking (or perhaps stumbling) down Courtenay Place after a night of vodka Red Bulls and a burnt vape, your eyes meet with a bright yellow van advertising haircuts. Wellington’s own ‘Big Yellow Taxi,’ the Mobile Barbershop, has been parking on Courtenay Place on Friday and Saturday nights for about a year. The customer base on a Friday and Saturday night seems to all be tipsy students, getting a touch-up on their hair before enjoying a cheeky kebab and a few drinks in town. The mobile barbershop was born after founder Tony Rose saw an opportunity: He had received a parking fine for a haircut in 2020 after having to wait one and a half hours for a new ‘do. Rose decided that mobile barbers would be more convenient for workers and students. After paying off the parking fine, Rose launched an app called iRate Barbers, which allows barbers to offer mobile services. He describes it as “UberEats for haircuts.”The barber van came soon after the app. On weekdays, when the streets aren’t littered with vomit-soaked lanyards and empty KGB cans, the barber van is on-call, allowing customers to order a barber to come to their house. Rose says this “gives customers a more convenient experience.” The weekend is when the barber van really pops off, though. The mobile barbershop has received enormous success, cutting hair from 9 p.m. to around 3 a.m. on busy town nights.

Source: iRate Barbers “People often dare their friends to get weird haircuts in town,” Rose says. He has seen patrons pay for people to get a mullet or for their heads to be shaved completely bald—the peer pressure often works, and it likely comes with a free drink brought for you from Shady Lady next door by your mates. Just last weekend, a “quite tipsy” guy decided the “old man haircut” would suit him. After barbers asked if he was certain, the guy walked out sporting a massive bald patch in the middle of his head, before waiting in line at Dakota next door. The owner of the mobile barbershop says that easing of Covid-19 restrictions has helped his business, as town is booming and the van is more popular than ever. “I’m sure the funny stories will just add up, I already have heaps,” Rose added.

“I Live and Die by Food Safety”: Slugs in VUW Hall Food Suggest Otherwise Words by Ethan Manera (he/him)

The university has apoligised to students for what they called “shortfalls” in an “extremely challenging time” after food provided to isolating students at Victoria University halls of residence made national headlines for being “worthy only of the rubbish bin”. Yet this isn’t a one-off case of an overstretched catering team struggling to keep up, halls of residence have a history of providing substandard food for exuberant prices while the company behind it all, Compass Catering, records multi-million dollar profits. Students pay up to $520 per week in catered halls,

often going into thousands of dollars worth of debt, yet are met with low-quality food which is sometimes so bad it’s inedible. One student told Salient, “the food we were served last year was absolute dog shit, it’s frankly not fit for human consumption.” Another posted to Instagram, “just a bit sad how we’re spending so much money on this. Uber eats it is!” One Instagram account @kathyjcuisine has posted some of Katharine Jermyn Hall’s most questionable food since 2018 which includes mould lacing everything from bread to eggs as well as maggots,

In an interview with Salient, managing director of Compass Group NZ, Simon Lipscombe said he’s aware of complaints, however “they are not representative of the food that we serve across the seven halls”. Lipscombe stood by all the food served at the halls. When asked if slugs, mould, feathers, fish scales, maggots, and dead flies are acceptable additions to meals, Lipscombe refused to comment on “particular issues” but said, “I live and die by food safety”. Lipscombe added “If any of our meals that people have had were not up to the expected quality, I genuinely and sincerely apologise.”

fish scales, chicken feathers, dead flies, and countless hairs tucked away in meals. Earlier this year, a live slug was discovered to be wriggling around in a meal which was given to an isolating student in Katharine Jermyn hall. The Instagram account @kathyjcuisine told Salient, “They’ve been working so hard to get everyone in isolation their meals on time [but] the slug in the dinner is pretty shabby work”. Seven of VUW’s thirteen halls are catered by Compass Catering, the world’s largest catering company. The New Zealand branch, Compass Group NZ Limited recorded $7 million in profits last year. In 2018 the contract between Compass and VUW sat at $4.5M and the university had received five formal complaints about the quality of food at Katharine Jermyn Hall.

Rainsforth Dix, VUW’s Director of Student and Campus Living told Salient, “Students in our halls of residence, and their parents, are right to expect good quality food to be served at all times.” Dix acknowledged these standards were not met during the recent Covid-19 outbreaks in halls and pointed to the $100 refund scheme residents received for this poor quality of food. Dix added that the accommodation team has received a “modest number” of complaints but did not confirm a figure.

Source: @kathyjcuisine

Rumoured Head Lice Outbreak has VUW’s Capital Hall Scratching Their Heads Words by Ethan Manera (he/him)

Reports of a head lice outbreak in Capital Hall has caused mounting confusion as mixed messages emerge from the hall of residence. The rumour started after an Instagram confessions page posted two separate confessions reading “okay who tf gave me lice” and “can you please isolate if you have nits.” These allegations have proven confusing. The confessions page said that due to the “anonymous nature” of the confessions they “cannot verify if they are true.” Salient called Capital’s Head of Hall. We were informed that the head lice speculation was merely a “prank” and that they weren’t aware of any cases. The Head of Hall told Salient, “We seem to be getting quite a few prank calls calling up to say there is lice going through the hall but no one has actually come down to let us know that they’ve got head lice.” Capital Hall maintained that if there were “a surge in cases” that residents would be asked to seek medical treatment

as well as “wash their clothes and pillow cases.” One Capital resident contradicted this claim saying that there were in fact head lice going around in the hall but that the outbreak was contained to “above floor ten.” Another resident told Salient that there had been “chatter among the hall” that only one resident had head lice but has since been treated adding that they feel “slightly scared” as some residents now “do think they have it.” When Salient contacted Capital Hall asking to confirm the rumours of the potential nit outbreak, an RA accidentally confirmed the claims saying, “yeah we know” in the background of the call when asked if the rumours of a lice outbreak are true. A spokesperson said that the university “is not aware of any cases of head lice in our halls of residence.” They urge students to seek medical attention if head lice are discovered.

www.salient.org.nz

Is Milk and Honey Café Worth Doing a Master’s Degree For? Words by Salient News Team

Milk and Honey cafe at Kelburn Campus (formerly the Staff Club) has been ‘exclusive’ to postgraduate students and staff for many years. With a selected wine menu that puts the Hunter Lounge to shame and a “keep out” sign that often adorns the entrance, Salient went to find out why it’s off limits for undergrads. The owner, Paul, told us that the café isn’t for undergraduate students because a lot of staff have meetings there, and they want it to be a “breakout space.” He added, “other cafés are available to everyone—undergraduates have got the whole uni.” This hasn’t gone unnoticed by undergrad students. Paul says they often receive angry Facebook posts, calling out Milk and Honey for not allowing undergraduates to eat there. The owner finds it comedic, however, saying, “This year, students are so quiet! I quite like it when they get affronted.” It was like a library blue zone if people actually respected them. No one played their awkward ‘study’ playlist out loud from their computer speakers and there was not a single couple making out in the corner of the room. There was no mention of halls, Instagram confessions pages, or those “I had sex with my RA” conversations which are god-awful to eavesdrop on.

We tucked into a bowl of hand-cut chips, which had the perfect ratio of crispy to fluffy; worthy of going into postgraduate debt for. We also got a green salad, which was light, filled with a variety of veggies and topped with a fresh lemon slice and an exquisite dressing. The cheese scones came with a generous amount of butter, although they were a little on the dense side. For dessert, we had lemon poppy-seed cake, with a thick layer of cream-cheese icing and an oat flat white. The only real criticism we can offer is that there are no bathrooms on the premises. If you need to pee you have to walk back through the Louis’ doors into the chaos of the plebeian Hub. We thought we would be met with hostility and snootiness, but in fact were met with a relaxing atmosphere, with art decorating the pristine white walls. The owner was kind and gentle—after all, was it so unreasonable to have a staff-focussed sanctuary on campus? Milk and Honey was sophisticated, it gave a calming, yet surprisingly inviting, aura: a breath of fresh air. While they don’t adhere to rigorous ID checking upon entry, we reckon, for the sanctity of your lecturers and tutors, let them have this space for themselves. Go be an undergrad renegade elsewhere.

Petty News

Words by Salient News Team Fog Makes Wellington Horn-y

A loud fog horn that could be heard across the Wellington region last Wednesday night prompted many Wellingtonians to complain on social media. One Twitter user said, “fog horn shut the fuck up challenge,” with many others agreeing that the noise was annoying and too loud. Stan Hallett Pullen, a qualified day skipper, said “under maritime law, when a ship is operating under restricted visibility—as with the fog—they have to sound their horn every minute as they’re manoeuvring.” When asked what kind of boat it was, he confirmed it was likely “a big one.” Take Your Glass Bin Inside, Please

Public Pissed About Pupils Piss in Public Place

I get it. You want to show off your DB Export Gold collection to prove that your flat had a rager last weekend, but Wellington City Council is unable to collect glass bins at the moment due to something called Omicron. Put it away! The City Council has advised residents not to put their glass bins out as they will not be collected, so why, every time I walk up to campus, do I see an array of light-blue bins filled with empty bottles of beers?

A Wellington local took to Vic Deals to complain about Victoria University students’ alleged public urination on the Kelburn Parade footpath. The post called out the rancid act by asking the students if they could “at least go piss in the bushes.” Other locals had different perspectives with one commenting, “Just step over it?” and another saying, “another freedom being taken by leftist lunatics, thanks Jacinda.”

Residents are able to take their glass to the Southern Landfill Recycle Centre, or are advised to wrap glass and put it in general rubbish which will be collected. Glass crates will not be collected on the side of the road for now. Breathers: I’m sorry you had to find out this way.

Louis’ Font is Ugly, but the Coffee Makes up for It Comic Sans is never a good choice. Whilst it outperforms Wingdings and Papyrus, the controversially hideous font should never be used in legitimate advertising. Louis’ café on Kelburn Campus, however, does just that. The coffee is good, amazing even, and comes at a great value with exceptional service and lovely staff, but that Louis’ poster in The Hub hurts my brain every time I have the misfortune of seeing it. I’d order more coffees if it meant I didn’t have to look at that god-awful sign. Whilst Louis’ boasts the best value coffee on campus, it sure does come with the worst font on campus.

Source: FleetMon

Source: VicDeals www.salient.org.nz

How Beloved Local Businesses Words by Zoë Mills (she/they)

Wellington is known for its incredible hospitality culture, but ever since Omicron has hit the city, life has been flipped upside down for our local businesses. As a loyal devotee of the Wellington restaurant scene (and a hospo worker myself), I went to three local hospitality businesses to see how they’re recovering post-Covid, and to find out the best ways students can support them in this tricky time.

Chow: Tory Street First stop of my tour-de-Wellington was the one, the only: Chow. Chow has maintained a cult following over the last 20 years the Tory Street restaurant has been open. Known for wildly cheap deals every day of the week, tasty Asian-fusion food, and out-of-this-world cocktails, it is a mustvisit. I chatted to the restaurant’s current manager, Peter Lowry, about how the establishment is doing in the current age of Covid-19.

sharing the restaurant’s weekly “Chow and Chill” competition, where you can win $200 worth of takeout for your flat every week. The restaurant also offers two for one cocktails every Wednesday and Saturday and two for one dinners every Monday.Taking advantage of these deals is a great way to show your love to the joint without breaking the bank—plus, it’s a great way to try items off the menu that you wouldn’t usually try.

The restaurant, while still full to the brim with loyal customers, can feel a bit odd since Covid-19 restrictions have shifted. Customers are seated, wait-staff are masked, and it’s strictly table service only. Peter’s relieved that things are starting to get back to normal—the wellbeing of his 70 staff are his priority. “With [O]micron, there’s a new set of rules, and it’s something that we’re working through”, he said. Chow has quickly adapted to the new rules. The restaurant has now branched out to offering delivery across apps like DeliveryEasy, and has even offered a free-delivery-thursday deal to encourage customers to get their fix of Chow even from home. Check your Instagram on a Sunday night and you’re bound to see posts

The restaurant has now branched out to offering delivery across apps like DeliveryEasy, and a free-delivery-thursday deal to encourage customers to get their fix

The energy in Chow is always electric—loud pumping music, a packed bar, and loud chatter sets the tone for a night out on the town. The food definitely matches the vibe, with bright Asian-fusion flavours complementing the incredible cocktails— think drinks topped with tufts of candyfloss and crowd-pleasing margaritas. It’s definitely crucial that you make a booking before you come. On a night out, Chow is definitely a destination within itself and with their recovery post-Covid being pretty successful, I’m excited to see where Peter takes the restaurant next.

Have Adapted to Covid-19 Fix & Fogg Toast Window: Eva Street Tucked away in a corner of Eva Street hides the perfect solution to your first-date stresses and brunch woes: the Fix & Fogg toast shop. The peanut butter company has taken Aotearoa by storm and is now stocking uniquely-flavoured nut butters all over the world. It’s no exception in their home city of Wellington, where their Eva Street Toast Window has been working hard during Covid-19. The company took a hit during Omicron, but supermarket sales kept the nut butter company afloat. “Luckily we have some amazing locals, students and visitors who pop by to see us on the weekend”, team member Shanae explained to me. The Eva Street shop popped up in Wellington a few years ago and hides away in the same location of the original Fix & Fogg factory. “Our Eva Street window is no ordinary shop: it’s a hidden gem located in the heart of Wellington City. There’s no big signage, so you’ll need to keep your eyes peeled for our peanut butter flag to find us.” The window is an effective way of allowing regulars in touch with staff as customers are able to purchase directly from the Fix & Fogg window. The windowservice method of the shop has also served as an advantage during Covid: with the entirety of the space being outside, the shop has been able to serve multiple groups without relying on table service. It’s refreshing to be able to see a business operate in some degree of normality amidst the current wave of Omicron.

The window-service method of the shop has served as an advantage during Covid: with the entirety of the space being outside, the shop has been able to serve multiple groups without relying on table service. But in all honesty, I’ve never been a huge fan of peanut butter—don’t come for me—but ever since my flatmate started bringing home jars of Fox & Fogg, my mind was quickly changed; the toast here is out the gate. I tucked into the blackforest toast, topped with their very own choc-berry everything butter, granola, raspberry syrup, and freeze-dried raspberries—this one is not to miss. For hot food, the staff convinced us to try their famous toastie: swiss cheese, smoke and fire peanut butter (a very spicy PB), kimchi, and pickles. It sounds weird but trust me, you’re gonna love this. It was incredibly rich, so they kindly boxed it up for us and we took it up to uni. Fix & Fogg was kind enough to offer an exclusive Salient discount for anyone keen to try out the Eva St window and show their support: “Just pop by our Eva Street window, show this article and you can get 15% off your purchase over the month of April. Other than that, a follow on Instagram and a nice comment now and then is always nice!”

Sweet Release: Manners

This unassuming Manners St café is serving up some of the best vegan food in all of Wellington. After owner Kris fell ill with an autoimmune disease, she turned to baking to help her through rough times.

“I named the company Sweet Release because of my autoimmune disorder called Graves’ disease”, Kris explained to me. “I just really liked learning how to bake while I was sick as I was housebound for a long time”. She seemed to be pretty good at baking too, having left her IT job to pursue Sweet Release over seven years ago. She tried veganism to help stabilise her thyroid and went on to open Sweet Release as a fully vegan and allergy-friendly joint. Sweet Release also places a huge emphasis on workers’ rights. Kris explained to me: “We are an accredited Living Wage company as well, which means everyone on our team gets paid at least the living wage, and we’re dedicated to making sure we keep up with that”. As well as emphasising workers’ rights, it’s easy to feel welcome and accepted in the store. Pride flags peek through the overflowing pinboard advertising local events, posters line the walls; the café radiates a sense of community that is unlike many cafés I’ve visited. Omicron has hit sweet release hard—even more so after the Parliament Grounds anti-mandate protests. The team made the choice to shut the doors an extra few days a week for the sake of employee wellbeing. “We went from opening seven days a week to just opening four days a week”, Kris explained. “That was mostly kicked off when the protest was here because we had a lot of people abusing our team. We just kinda thought—our team needs at least a few days off to recover mentally”.

Kris mentioned to me that, because a lot of their regular customers were immuno-comprimised or had serious allergies, Sweet Release have begun planning out how to operate at-home deliveries. She assures me that the team is back up and running and looking forward to welcoming new customers. Sweet Release doesn’t serve the type of food you’d associate with veganism; think decadent cakes, donuts, brownies, and burgers. “We have a lot of focus on comfort food. You know when people first transition to veganism and they’re like “Ugh, I don’t like vegetables’’? We’re kind of like the buffer for that”. Kris recommended I try the student special of the $10 Mac’n’Cheese, which I topped with some “Not Ribs”: crispy pieces of imitation pork rib meat made of jackfruit and vital-wheat gluten. I was sceptical, but pleasantly surprised. The way that Kris and her team have been able to recreate the taste and textures of non-vegan food is incredible—it’s not surprising that their “Not Ribs’’ won third place in 2019’s Wellington on a Plate. The Mac’n’Cheese itself was incredible. We also grabbed a bowl of crispy fries and fried tofu, and finished up with one of the best brownies I have ever eaten. Louis’ Cafe up at Kelburn Campus has got nothing on these brownies. Sweet Release has made an extraordinary recovery since the anti-mandate protests, and Kris is beaming as she welcomes new customers and new vegans into the shop. But, If I’m a broke student, how can I support your business without breaking the bank? “Spread the word about us… support our posts, share it, that costs nothing!”

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Understaffed and Overworked: The Workers Behind Aotearoa’s Most Popular Words by Maia Ingoe (she/her)

McDonald’s is universally recognisable. Most of us have been to the Courtenay Place restaurant on a Saturday night when it’s packed with people retreating from town for a quick, late-night feed. We all know the branding and the menu, and, chances are, we know someone who’s worked there.

Behind the big red ‘M’ and salty smells of fast food are the employees that assemble the burgers, scoop the fries, and make the coffee. Most of the time, the crew are young: still at school, or have just left. “For me, it was tied very closely with the whole sort of, coming into your own,” Ava, an ex-employee, told me. She started working at McDonald’s as a fresh-faced high school leaver. At a store outside of major cities, Ava worked her way through the McDonald’s career ladder from a crew member to crew trainer, to hiring and shift manager. “As a job, it was like my lifeline,” she says. Ava was living in a new city after returning to Aotearoa when she was hired at McDonald’s, which she says led her to be swept up into the intense working culture at the fast-food restaurant. She embraced working 60 to 70 hour weeks, she found a social group, and although she now questions the intense working environment, for the first three years she “loved it”. Ava was promoted to management positions at the same time as four other young employees, and the restaurant harboured a competitive work culture to squeeze the most out of their workers. “The 60, 70 hour weeks were a point of pride. It was a competition between all the managers, especially the young managers who were all kind of my age to see who could do the longest workweek.” There are 167 McDonald’s restaurants in Aotearoa, with one million visitors every week. Around 10,000 people are employed across the country—a combination of full time, part-time, and casual staff. Staff at McDonald’s are paid ten cents above minimum wage, topped up with another dollar for crew training. Once trained in a management position, employees can’t be paid less than a manager’s wage, but they have an obligation to work with Maccas for the next year. Ruby was 16 when she was hired. “One of the first things [my manager told me was] don’t stress out Ruby. This is McDonald’s. Nobody expects that much of you.”

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At the first restaurant Ruby worked at, an overbearing manager made the environment more intense. “He actually made my job way, way worse. I was literally scared to come to work, because I wouldn’t want to be told off.” There was an expectation to always be doing something, even if it was wiping down a counter that had already been cleaned five times. Ruby laughs heartily, recalling a story of her coworker who was frantically looking for something to do as the manager passed and ended up petting the sauce packets. In other ways, the management situation shows itself to be more concerning: “He used to literally watch the cameras from home and it would scare me,” she said.

At the first restaurant Ruby worked at, an overbearing manager made the environment more intense [...] “He used to literally watch the cameras from home and it would scare me” Now at university, Ruby works one steady shift a week for the restaurant—any more, and her student allowance is reduced because of personal income limitations. She doesn’t mind it: The job doesn’t require much brainpower and working mornings in the Courtenay Place restaurant is more relaxed than expected. Courtenay Place transforms late at night on a Friday. Crowds of people pass through the street outside McDonald’s. At the door, a makeshift table and screen, and the now nationally-recognisable yellow-striped Covid-19 signage, advertising mandatory vaccination for entry and QR code scanning. Behind the screen, wearing an apron and mask, a person stands scanning vaccine passes one by one. “Friday overnights is when you get college students, drunk adults, the sugar high kids, it’s definitely a lot more stressful. Especially because we’re not allowed to swap the people that are scanning the door on Saturday, like at all.” Jamie, a full-time crew member at McDonald’s, tells me. Jamie spends the majority of those late nights standing at the restaurant door, scanning vaccine passes. “That one night kills me for the rest of the day,” they say. The McDonald’s website advertises a ‘happy family’ image of a McDonald’s crew team. The

career page reads: “So whether you like putting a smile on people’s dial, building custom-made burgers, or making a mean cappuccino, we have a role that will work for you!” Jamie says it’s sugarcoated: “Yeah, we smile, because otherwise we get told off, which is fine, it’s customer service. But a lot of the time you’ll get shitty customers.” In the late-night party environment of downtown Wellington, many people use McDonald’s just as a toilet stop on the way to town, or the last stop on the comedown of a drunken high. Jamie tells me of a customer denied entry on a Friday night because they couldn’t present a vaccine pass. The man continued to piss in the doorway, making eye contact with one of the staff. The pressure of customer service was difficult in many ways before the vaccine system was introduced, Jamie explains. Being a front-facing worker for a fast-food restaurant comes with its share of abuse and difficulty from customers. “Sometimes you want to go home and just curl up in a ball.” We talk on a weekday afternoon, fresh out from a morning shift. Their exhaustion from the day shows. As a crew trainer, Jamie is tasked with training new staff alongside working the café, restaurant, and kiosk. Although morning shifts are quiet compared to nights, there are still busy rushes. Jamie paints a picture of a hectic environment during lunch rushes in the small restaurant: “You’re yelling at someone who’s on the other side, not really yelling, but shouting, because it’s quite loud with everything going off all the time. Then you’re asking them to drop some like crispy chicken patties. And then you’re on the other side trying to pick up the beef patties and try to put them on the grill. It can be quite tense.” Ruby enjoys the slower pace for most of the day—she describes it as a mental break from university study. At the first Wellington restaurant she was rostered at, problems of near-constant understaffing showed. “Even when I worked a three-hour shift there, I felt so exhausted because they get so many customers and you’re constantly doing stuff on your feet,” she says. “The real issue at the moment has been understaffing and overwork,” Xavier Walsh told

me. The 19-year-old Auckland University student joined Unite Union on their first day at McDonald’s two and half years ago and is now the Under 35 Stand Up youth network representative and the copresident. Unite Union represents McDonald’s and other fast-food employees throughout Aotearoa. They have between 1300 and 1500 members nationwide, with most of those from bigger centres, but any standards negotiated roll over to all 10,000 employees. The onset of Omicron has turned up the pressure for all hospitality workers, and McDonald’s is no exception. “It’s a really draining job at the best of time[s],” Xavier tells me, with that pressure continuing outside of the job, eating into studies, social life, and mental health. McDonald’s has been running an employment campaign for the past year in an attempt to address shortages made more obvious by the pandemic: Posters in shop windows show smiling employees, quotes saying McDonald’s doesn’t just build burgers but careers too. According to Xavier, things won’t change until people are valued. “It’s recogni[s]ing that this is hard work, and we should be compensated for that through the living wage, $22.75 [...] we should be getting free meals, not just half-price meals, we should be ensuring that we get looked after.” Aotearoa’s minimum wage increases by $1.20 as of 1 April, but Xavier says “it’s not enough”, falling short of the $2.75 increase needed to meet living wage. Unite Union are in the position to negotiate fair pay agreements: a system designed by the government to facilitate minimum terms and conditions within an industry. The hospitality industry is crucial here, says Xavier, because it’s recognised as being one of exploitation and breaches of minimum standards. For Ava, everything changed in 2019. She suffered a knee injury and was suddenly unable to work long hours on the floor. “Then I wasn’t useful to them anymore. And they just flipped like a switch.” When her doctors ruled out working full nine-hour shifts on the restaurant floor, Ava’s hours were reduced to four days a week and shifts were split between five hours on the floor, and three hours in the back office, completing bookwork. In a busy restaurant environment, this didn’t last long, and Ava says management consistently asked her to come back out to the floor throughout her shift, with no sympathy for her painful injury.

The reductions in hours resulted in her being unable to run shifts. For a short time she was rostered as a ‘support manager’, and then her hiring manager position was given to another staff member. Ava felt like she had no control over her job. “It really sent me into a spiral because my whole sense of identity had been really tied to McDonald’s,” she said.

For Ava, everything changed in 2019. She suffered a knee injury and was suddenly unable to work long hours on the floor. “Then I wasn’t useful to them anymore. And they just flipped like a switch.” “I’m a 20-year-old girl sitting in this office in front of my boss, begging, in pain […] for less hours. And he’s like, okay, cool. Well, fuck you then,” she recalls. Looking back on her role as a manager, Ava says she feels “complicit” in creating the toxic working culture. “I used to be like, if you’ve got time to lean, you’ve got time to clean. I used to tell people we’re not paying you to stand still.” It’s been six months since Ava left McDonald’s, and she says it was the best decision she could make for her wellbeing. “My job now treats me like a human that is just trusted to do the job that I was hired for. And they treat me like a human. I’m allowed to take bathroom breaks and I’m allowed to go get a drink of water if I need one. Whereas at McDonald’s, you can’t do that.” Ruby plans to quit McDonald’s as soon as she’s able to at the end of the university year. “I think we get a pretty bad rep considering we’re earning 10 cents above minimum wage, and we’re working harder than someone who probably earns about 10 times more than us and owns the restaurant,” she says, laughing with a positive air. The job is easy to handle at part-time and she says no when asked to pick up shifts. For many employees, it’s not a long-term commitment. Jamie accepts the job as what it is, and is looking towards the management certificate, which is wellregarded in the hospitality industry. “It’s just a job at the end of the day. It’s a means to an end.”

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HUMAIDI RIDWAN, BARISTA JAYA, 2022.

Beer in Mind, Women Also Like

a Brew or Two Words by Lauren Walker (she/her)

I had my first proper sip of beer at a party when I was sixteen. The beer was a Tui given to me by a cute boy I was trying to impress. “I’ve never had a Tui before,” I had most likely said meekly, batting my eyelashes as I looked up at his six-foottwo frame. I remember him laughing and saying something like, “You probably won’t like it.” My reaction was exactly as he had predicted. From then on, I walked hand in hand to every party with a box of mango-raspberry vodka cruisers.

Aotearoa had increased rapidly. With the six o’clock closing of pubs, binge drinking beer became the working man’s daily ritual. While, on the other hand, women were only allowed to drink in respectable private bars upstairs, or at home. At this, beer was firmly cemented in the hands of men. So much so that in 1878, the ^New Zealand Herald^ declared beer to be “the national beverage of New Zealand […] the drink of the working man.”

Beer was for the boys, drunk after rugby games; a competition to see who could sink as much piss as possible. While girl’s night quickly became characterised by a lush-looking, pink bottle of rosé.

The history of Aotearoa’s beer culture has provided foundation to an exclusive cult of beer drinkers, twisting the tale to now depict beer as being for men. Supported by cleverly targeted marketing campaigns, beer’s identity became masculine. Take DB Export Gold’s 2010 campaign for example, “Let nothing come between a man and a great beer.” Or Tui’s 2012 television advertisement: Three men sneak into a brewery, stealing beer from under the noses of a group of skimpily-dressed, seductive-looking women.

There’s irony in the fact that the first records of beer date back to women. The first written recipe is claimed to be the Hymn to Ninkasi, circa 1800 BCE. Ninkasi, born from freshwater, mixed the bappir with sweet aromatics, soaked the malt in a jar, and poured out filtered beer, the onrush of Tigris and Euphrates, to plenish the people of Mesopotamia. The Sumerian goddess of brewing, a woman, was the inventor of beer. Sumerians and Egyptians praised beer goddesses and associated the process of brewing with women. As well as Ninkasi there was Kubaba, the only woman on the Sumerians’ list of kings. Earning her ruling not through birthright, but her role as a brewer.

But, as history has it, the tale is being retold and resold to a new generation of beer drinkers. Wellington-based academic, Kathleen Kuehn, conducted an investigation in 2018 on branding and gender (in)visibility of women brewers among Aotearoa’s craft beer industry. In her article, she outlines that the number of women drinking and working in beer has increased rapidly thanks to craft beer.

Around the fifth century, the concept of an alewife emerged. Women were making large volumes of beer for their families and there was often a surplus. By placing greenery over their doors, and in some cases brooms, they could signal to locals that there was extra beer for sale.

When I got my first restaurant job I was hired as a barista to work the day shifts and the mid-morning brunch rush. However, as Summer crept up with the days getting warmer and longer, I knew I wouldn’t be able to avoid the beer part of the job for too much longer.

By the early twentieth century, beer drinking in

I would ask questions like, “How do I pour a pint?”

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and my manager’s face would turn into one of perplexion. I questioned how I would ever learn the difference between an American pale ale and an Indian pale ale. I knew fuck all about beer because it was something that I was never encouraged to drink. As I saw men continually approach Joe for a beer suggestion, I took it upon myself to understand the politics of beer. The problem wasn’t that they approached Joe, but more so how he had acquired such vital information throughout his lifetime that I, as a woman, had not. If my relationship with beer over the past few years is anything to go off, then I feel like I’d be betraying my fellow women if I said that the realm of beer is equally gendered. Sure, there are brewers, bartenders, and beer business owners who are women, but this doesn’t mean that women are treated equally to men in the industry. Within the craft beer industry, everyone’s pretty supportive. You’ve got associations like Pink Boots to get women involved, and slowly more female brewers who are women are popping up. You’ve got beer reps and bartenders are your favourite local who are women. The main difference being it takes more to prove ourselves. My experience as a bartender who is a woman is echoed amongst so many others. The obvious distrust on a customer’s face when I make him a beer recommendation hurts. Then there’s the chuckle when I bring him a couple of tasters and urge him to try something different that I think he might like. Nonetheless, not all customers are like that. Some don’t second guess, who trust, who are thankful, and, as a bartender, those are the reactions that I should receive every single time. It’s on the off days that I am reminded that I’m not just a bartender, but that I’m a woman bartender. Statistically speaking, the ‘female’ body physically can’t handle beer in the same volume as men (though, of course, this varies person to person). We aren’t all built to sink a box or crate and I can happily accept that. I’m not asking to claim beer as solely a women’s drink. What I’m wanting is to break down the egos, the assumptions, and the unnecessary sexist slurs. Women also like beer, some of us even love it. Sorry if that’s threatening to your manhood, but get over it.

As more women begin to enter the world of beer, the realms of masculinity and femininity are being re-gendered. The perception of women as masculine for drinking beer is re-considered and the idea that beer is masculine is re-thought. When a woman enters a man’s world it threatens to displace his masculinity, hence the egos and the unnecessary comments. The sad truth is that a woman’s legitimacy in the beer industry is at the mercy of men who decide whether a feminine association to beer is threatening. Working in a men-dominated industry with a “masculine” beverage has compelled me to learn as much as I can about beer. Every day I went to work inspired by the women that I was surrounded by; all successful, driven, and incredibly knowledgeable on beer. I’d always try whatever new beers we had on tap. Getting a gauge for the flavours and placing them somewhere on my scale from hoppy to malty to sour. I understood that McLeod’s 802 range was the superior choice for a hazy and that Funk Estate’s Jungle Boogie was and always will be the best sour. R.I.P. Funk Estate. Whenever I got stuck with a table of pretentious boomers, I’d chat shit about them behind the bar, then take it upon myself to impress them with my beer knowledge. I’d ask them what their favourite beer was then surprise them with a few pints, the perfect way to humble a few older men. Over time, my after-work staffie progressed from a glass of buttery chardonnay to a juicy hazy pale ale. A personal fave, Behemoth Brain Smiles; mosaic and citra-hopped liquid gold. I’ve worked around craft beer for a few years now. I’ve been made to wait tables with the assumption that I know nothing behind the bar. Disobeying orders to pull pints until they realised I wasn’t joking when I said I like beer. While at other venues I’ve run the bar, gladly on my own, and proven that I know what I’m on about. To succeed in this industry, women have to break a historical culture of gender stereotypes and marketing campaigns, but, as statistics are proving, the industry is changing. Ninkasi is making a comeback.

Contentment is rhyming couplets Contentment is something you try to hold in your hands: a spoonful of honey, a palmful of sand steam from your noodles, warm dappled light you can’t keep it for long, try as you might. Time pushes onwards, something else to pick up can’t carry water with holes in the cup. It feels like loss, good things go away but they were there for a while and I guess that’s okay. Cause contentment is soft, contentment is small a little is better than nothing at all. Its clean skin and clean socks and coffee in bed it’s each little smile that hides in your head. Contentment is gratitude for the things that you’ve got it’s nice to be happy, it’s okay if you’re not. Hold to these moments and grieve when they’re gone but this too will pass and life will go on. - Emily Blennerhassett

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Everybody Dig In Words by Kaityln Randall (she/her)

In 2017, Nick Loosley returned from the UK not only with a Master’s Degree in Green Economics, but also with an idea of how we could put some of our food waste to better use. This idea was then developed into a unique business model taking on some big issues: food waste, food poverty, and social isolation. And today, this idea is open for business three nights a week as Everybody Eats. “We work almost exclusively with rescued food. This doesn’t mean it was out of the bin, but it could have been on its way there,” says Nick, proudly. It’s food rescue organisations like Kiwi Harvest, Kaibosh, and Kiwi Community Assistance who intercept this high quality food that ends up on plates at Everybody Eats. “It’s often great produce we are working with. It can just be an odd mixture of great stuff, and that’s where the creativity comes in.” It’s the chefs who use these ingredients to put together a three course, restaurant quality meal based on what’s available to them. It’s their creativity and craft, alongside the help of volunteers, that makes Everybody Eats come to life. “Our volunteers help us with anything from peeling potatoes in the kitchen, through to serving tables and washing dishes. We really could not exist and could not do the mahi we do without them.” One of the volunteers making it happen is recent graduate Elyse Smaill. “Volunteering for my first time I found everyone to be so welcoming.” She particularly enjoyed the “cosy, yet lively environment. Everyone seemed to be having an awesome time, volunteers included.” For Elyse, “volunteering helps [them] to step out of [their] own world and focus on giving to others.” Everybody Eats is set on giving people a great dining experience, regardless of their circumstances. This is why they operate on a koha, or pay-as-you-feel basis. “We make payment completely anonymous, we’re not hung up on it,” says Nick. “More than half of the meals we have

served in our five years have been accessed for free.” This means these meals are accessible to those living in poverty or experiencing otherwise difficult circumstances. “We don’t know people’s circumstances, but we know when they come to us they will enjoy a really beautiful meal and experience, even if they don’t have the ability to pay.”

Everybody Eats is set on giving people a great dining experience, regardless of their circumstances. This is why they operate on a koha, or pay-as-you-feel basis. It was in 2018 that Everybody Eats opened its pilot restaurant in Auckland. They have since expanded, opening another location in Onehunga as well as in Wellington on Dixon Street. I went along to their Wellington restaurant recently with my flatmate Amelia. Neither of us really knew what to expect, but were going in with an open mind. As we entered, the first thing we were asked was whether we would “prefer to sit by ourselves, or with others?” Nick explains, “we are trying to build community through our dining experience. What we wanted to do is create an environment for everyone, where everyone is welcome and is treated with dignity.” Nick emphasises the importance of food and how

it fosters great relationships: “As humans we love to share experiences and gather over a table of food.” Nick recognises that not everyone has the ability to share a meal with friends or family. When dining at Everybody Eats, customers are encouraged to sit together with people they don’t know. “For some people it’s slightly uncomfortable, but I think that’s where you start to break down some of those social barriers and make some meaningful connections through conversation.” For our dining experience, Ben* (who preferred not to be identified) was the stranger sitting across the table from us. We introduced ourselves and within moments the waiter greeted and talked us through the menu for the night. Soon after we were eating our green lentil harira soup with crispy mince.

Nick recognises that not everyone has the ability to share a meal with friends or family. When dining at Everybody Eats, customers are encouraged to sit together with people they don’t know. Ben told us that he first dined at Everybody Eats about a year ago, and since then has been coming back most weeks. Ben agrees, “there is something special about sharing a meal with people.” For mains we had carbonara with bacon and linguine, and a lesson in cryptocurrency. At one point Amelia remembered that in the building next door there are swing dancing lessons. From swing dancing we got talking about people who live time capsule lives, devoting their home, wardrobes and soundtracks to a particular era.

When asked what era Ben would most like to live in, he said, “probably 12,000 years ago in the beginning of the neolithic age.” He further explained, “people lived in tribal communities of about 150 people. Every person was really integral to keeping the community running. Everyone would work towards a common goal.” Ben contrasts this against the times we’re living in currently: “Society is a lot more disconnected these days.” Ben finds that “it’s hard to find a sense of community in this world we’re living in.” For him, Everybody Eats is a source of community. “There’s a few people that have stuck out and made my times at Everybody Eats particularly memorable and enjoyable.” Ben told us about his friend Peter who he’d often sit with. It wasn’t long before Ben was tapped on the shoulder, and Peter had joined our table. Peter is a wordsmith, a lover of language and speaking it. He speaks so much that Ben joked to him, “do you ever manage to finish your food before it gets cold?” Peter passed some of his newly op-shopped reading material round the table. He taught us the word “loquacious.” It means wordy, or full of excessive talk and sums up Peter very nicely. In return we all taught Peter who Demi Lovato is, and told him about how she sings to ghosts to help them overcome their traumas. This was what Peter described as “utterly uproarious”. “Without a place like this I wouldn’t have developed a relationship with this guy,” says Ben, when Peter finally lets him get a word in. “I keep coming back to Everybody Eats for the vibe, for lack of a better word. For what the thing it is, for the way it introduces you to all sorts of personalities, and for a great meal.” I walked away from the night feeling full of food and full of appreciation for the experience of eating it. It was a novel experience, but one which really left a great impression on so many levels. I’d learnt a bit about cryptocurrency, acquired a few new words up my sleeve, and met some really cool people that I otherwise might not have met.

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Jack O’Donnell (he/him) has worked at top restaurants in Aotearoa and overseas. He is currently the head chef and kitchen manager at The ReMakery, and has over 20 years of hospitality experience.

In the relatively small city and competitive market of Wellington, a sense of terroir and a feeling of belonging are central to what makes a restaurant stand out. Here are ten local eateries that are getting it right.

Rita ($$$)

Yanbu Vang serves up bright Tibetan-Yemini-style food, throwing the big punches that can only be expected from such a rich culinary milieu. Engaging diners within his flavour-memories, Vang’s cuisine transcends and reframes what we know about taste and texture. The freshly squeezed juice, in all its quirky flavours, is good too—really good. Take thee to the isle-of-yum, they said, it’s over yonder, they said, that place called Gunusu, bruv.

They say you can tell a lot about how clean a restaurant kitchen is by the cleanliness of their bathroom; in Rita’s case you can tell a lot about the restaurant’s entire vibe. With its simple-yet-refined décor and food, Rita evokes a commitment to quality and consistency that can only be attributed to the dynamic hospitality duo, Kelda and Paul (previously of Nikau). Let them welcome you into their humble but smart abode, while Head Chef Kahlivia Russell (ex-Cumulus, Melbourne) and her team do what they do best. Settle into Rita’s pared back, intimate surroundings, and soak up true hospitality in all of its finer details at this Te Aro institution. Sit back and relax—there’re plenty more Tinder dates in the sea.

Dragons ($$)

Capitol ($$$)

Offering a wide selection of traditional dishes such as masterfully-made dumplings and Peking duck, Dragons showcases flavours and techniques found only in fine Cantonese cooking. Fans of yum cha and larger-format shared dishes alike will agree that this temple of Chinese gastronomy is second to none. Once you’ve sampled the huge array of tasty treats on this menu, Dragons will become your own personal culinary lighthouse—a beacon calling out your name.

With market-fresh ingredients and a quality wine list to boot, this family-owned dining room is at once classical and modern, robust yet refined. Capitol is ideally situated for watching the world go by, while being served hearty Mediterraneaninspired dishes in a smart but casual environment. As owner-operator Tom Hutchison would say, “It’s pretty tasty, bro.”

Gunusu ($$)

Hillside ($$$) Opting to ditch the meat in 2018, Hillside offers an intimate setting where diners can experience vegetables and fruits at their peak, often picked directly by owner-operator Asher Boote at his farm in nearby Shannon. Head Chef Nikita Kuschke’s dedication to honouring remarkable product elevates humble ingredients to centre-stage, with a never-ending barrage of brassica literacy that makes you want to plunge your hands into the living earth, giving prayer to the vegetable kingdom in all its unordained splendour.

Kazagaruma ($$$) At a Japanese restaurant you know what you’re going to get, you just want to know that it’s good. And, well, Kazagaruma is very, very, good. Your face won’t explode with the heady joys of a fresh truth-bomb direct from flavourtown, but that isn’t what we came for. Kazagaruma is simple, paredback, exacting in every element of technique, offering expertly crafted sushi and sashimi, saké, green tea, and all of the usual suspects, though it’s the harmonious balance of flavours, textures, and attention to detail that set this destination apart.

Mason ($$)

Taste of India ($)

Rounding out the dining experience with natural wines, cocktails, and thoughtful service, Mason makes you feel welcomed by people who really care. Matt Hawkes’ (ex-Rita) passion for organic, seasonal ingredients, and devotion to big, bold flavours fits perfectly with the Middle-Eastern theme in this intimate space. No room? Never fear, get yourself to their sister-bar Next Door. It’s an arm’s-reach away, literally. You can even say hi through the conveniently located and selfproclaimed ‘glory-hole.’ Next Door is that foodie’s parallel universe we’ve always wanted but never been brave enough to ask for.

Delighting Wellingtonians with its beautiful curries and freshly-made naan from an open-kitchen tandoor, Taste of India is a hidden gem. Hands down the best chicken tikka in the city—if not the world—the salty, zesty, smoky flavour of the yoghurt marinade, spices, and oven char is enough to transport you directly to a street-food cart in India, the lemon on the side elevating this dish to a near religious experience. No dine-in, but go and eat the food—in a park, at a hotel, in bed—all of your wants and needs will dissolve once you experience the spicy greatness confined within these walls. Trust me: you’ll thank me later.

Mabel’s ($$)

Taste of Home ($)

Authentic Burmese food has found a recent home here in Wellington at Mabel’s. Arguably SouthEast Asia’s most slept on cuisine, the sharp, spicy, sour, and salty notes are resounding at this fresh and vibrant neighbourhood restaurant. And then there’s the certain refinement to the food at Mabel’s that rounds out the intensity, leaving you at once satisfied but wanting more of these traditional favourites; the perfect location for groups that want an experience to fully immerse themselves in. Newly defined friends with newly defined benefits—i.e. eating yum stuff at Mabel’s.

At Taste of Home the spicy, fragrant, sweet, sour, and numbing flavours of Sichuan cuisine are showcased; this is a true culinary experience that you’ll not want to miss. Renowned for its use of spicy chilli oil, Sichuan peppercorn enhances the intensely fragrant citrusy flavours characteristic of this Chinese province. Come, consume, and let the flavours burn their saucy imprints into your brain like a hot iron to a cattle hide. Don’t worry it won’t hurt (much), and you’ll be one of ‘us’ in no time.

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A Not-Very-Definitive

Review of Wellington’s Bars

at Traffic Light Red. Words by Phoebe Robertson (she/her)

Rogue and Vagabond ✰(5/5)✰✰✰✰

Circus Bar✰✰(3/5)

This is a socially distanced haven for any Covidstressed pals reading this article: On a sunny day, Rogue and Vagabond offers outside seating in Glover Park. If you get there when it’s quiet you can even snag one of their (probably not very well sanitised) beanbags or other variety of sacks and matts.

And the Britney song was on… Notably, no one was singing during my visit to Circus Bar. Instead, it was just a couple tables of individuals who seemed to be regulars of the venue who were blasting ‘early 2000’s music,’ a time frame which seems to stretch to the late 2010’s now. Unlike when Wellington first went into Red, their game consoles no longer have plastic bags over the controllers, but they are still playable.

It’s easy to relax with a reasonably-priced jug and some of the best curly-fries in Wellington. A prime people-watching spot, and if you’re lucky, you might even spot a dog or two. While the slightly mysterious Bedlam and Squalor room upstairs seem to be closed to events, downstairs still offers Jazz Nights and other events to have a fun night out. If it’s a nice day and you’re looking for some fresh air I’d say Rogue and Vagabond is the place to be.

Though the claw machine that used to stock toilet paper is no longer operational due to Covid-19 restrictions, it was even more disappointing to see the pool table stacked away, and I reminisced on the days when we could stand up and threeway kiss on top of it. At least they still give away popcorn for free. If you want somewhere to lament for the past when the Traffic Light system wasn’t a thing, Circus is the bar to beat!

Calendar Girls ✰(2/5)✰

Ivy Bar and Cabaret ✰(4/5)✰✰

Nothing says social distancing like titties in your face for $5. While, unfortunately, motorboats appear to be out of the question during Red, lap dances, and private bookings are still available. It’s unclear whether masks are mandated in these bookings, and I certainly didn’t have the budget to test that theory for a Salient article, but it seems like masks might be a little futile if you’re naked in the spa with one of the dancers.

Say “poor air circulation” three times in the mirror and you’ll end up in Ivy’s windowless gay basement. And, similarly to the vibe at Calendar Girls, nothing says social distancing like a drag performer face planting into a cake then throwing pieces of it onto your table. It should be said, however, this moment was cleaned up promptly by the emcee. And the bar staff were all seen masked up the entirety of my visit.

Speaking of the dancers, they are notably masked up. However, paterons at table services don’t have to be masked. Probably under one of those Covid-19 ‘if you’re drinking at a table’ laws, though those laws don’t seem created for somewhere with quite this atmosphere.

Whereas other bars struggle finding a way to entertain their patrons without the tools of dancefloors. On a Friday/Saturday night Ivy shines with drag shows that usually take up a couple of hours of your time.

If unaffordable drinks and socially distanced boobies are your thing, I would recommend giving it a visit. Freshers give it a miss though, if you aren’t tipping the dancers don’t bother going in.

If drag performers and $6 beers are your thing, Ivy is a great option for something to do on a weekend night.

Night Flower ✰(4/5)✰✰✰

Being a Hospo Worker ✰(1/5)

Listen, you can’t call yourself a true Wellingtonian artsy hipster if you haven’t been to Nightflower. A vintage-style punch house where you’re likely to miss the entrance, walk too far up the stairs, and then have to walk back down to look at a Google Review to make sure you’re opening the right, turquoise-painted, lion door knocker, unsignposted door.

If you’re looking for the Red experience without spending any money, maybe hospo work is more of your thing. When I put the call for this article out I had many people messaging me back wanting to share their experiences.

Once inside it’s an oddly intimate setting, tables are distanced in a way so that it’s easy to forget about Covid-19 restrictions. Notably, there are no menus to get grubby Covid-19 germs from, instead just bartenders who will ask about your tastes. As long as they’re expensive you’ll get a custom made cocktail that you can sip on, thinking about how good it tastes to still have mum and dad sending you money in third year. If you’re looking for an anniversary date, orto have not-like-others-bars taste, Night Flower is the best place to go. Just don’t get caught out when they get you to describe what kind of cocktail you want, vodka Red Bull doesn’t count.

One bartender talked about the discrepancies between venues; that it’s hard to enforce rules that other venues won’t and only results in angry customers and abuse of the staff. Another bartender mentioned the increased difficulty in managing intoxication levels and unsafe environment that has been created with venues having to shift focus from dancing to drinking. It’s also important to note that most hospitality staff I know have had (or at least been exposed directly) to Covid-19. It’s forced numerous bars to close with decreased staffing numbers and forced the few who remain without the virus to work increased shifts. If you’re looking to pick up the wrath of frustrated customers, maybe give hospo a shot. There are quite a few venues hiring at the moment…

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MEET OUR UPCOMING

Six new shows have joined the Salient Podcast scene and are ready to introduce themselves to you. Stay tuned!

Rock Dog Rock Dog is an ecocritical podcast where we stand at the precipice of climate catastrophe, turn around, assess the mess, and try to figure out how the heck we got here. I will unpack a series of case studies that demonstrate our complex relationships with the environment. Weaving in and out of science communication and socio-political commentary, Rock Dog will confront the apolitical status quo of the conservation sphere. As ecological breakdown looms, we have no choice but to confront just how personal and political the environment is.

Can’t Get You Out of My Head: Salient’s First Fictional Narrative Podcast Three weeks ago, the rumour goes, a few new voices sung their way into the Student Union building, figuratively speaking. Ruby and Saoirse are here to find a path out of the housing crisis, share their struggles with mental health, and (oh my) might find love along the way. Just the usual (though usually anything but), for CAN’T GET YOU OUT OF MY HEAD. And if anyone heard a lawnmower inside near the Hunter Lounge last Thursday, please flick a message to @outofmyhead.podcast

Piña Colada Town In Piña Colada Town, we invite you to uncover areas of Pōneke that are overlooked, forgotten, or underrated. The title of the podcast alludes to Rupert Holmes’ song about rekindling the romance of a listless marriage. Analogously, this podcast is a love letter to Pōneke, reinvigorating those feelings and ideas that drew so many, including us, to the capital. In the face of rising rents, decaying infrastructure, feuding councillors, and lacklustre university management, we want to shine a light on the best that Pōneke has to offer: he tangata. We’re going to kōrero with people from a range of backgrounds. From activism and academia to theatre, music, and cuisine—we want to highlight pockets of excellence in Pōneke that are worth celebrating.

Smooth Brain Society Have you ever come across something and thought, “I’m not smart enough for this”? We at the Smooth Brain Society think the fault lies with those who present information in ways that are hard to understand. In an attempt to change this, we’ll be speaking to researchers, experts, and all-around wrinkly-brained individuals. Making them simplify their work, and in turn, hopefully, improve our understanding of a broad range of topics that can be linked to psychology. Join us as we try to develop ourselves, one brain fold at a time.

For Real? Life is all about being real and FOR REAL? does just that. FOR REAL? takes you into the lives of and conversations between besties Liv and Gabi. Join them to get real about all things from friendships and relationships, to uni life and dramas, and all the other things on a Gen Z’ers mind. There’ll be balance, raw convos, and a whole lot of laughs. Come get real with us! @forrealthepodcast xox

Note To Self Note To Self is a podcast hosted by Sof and Ella, two mates who have absolutely no shame in sharing their personal lives online. We are here to tackle some important topics and discuss them in a way that is fun and entertaining, yet digestible and meaningful. Through Note To Self we strive to encourage open and honest chat about stuff that can sometimes be challenging to talk about. So, note to yourself’—listen in to our podcast for some laughs, shit chat, and hopefully an insightful life lesson or two! Find us on Instagram @notetoself_podcast. www.salient.org.nz

Anoushka:

Laurelei:

I work in hospitality and for the most part, I can say that I like my job; my boss is lovely and I love talking to the regular customers who come into the café. Of course, there are things that make my job more exhausting than it needs to be. It is always the middle-aged boomer folk who love to roll their eyes, slam their phones on the counter when I ask for their vaccine passes, and bark their orders at me. However, I am very grateful that, while people sometimes treat me quite awfully, it is never because of my race, but rather because I’m a small 19-year-old girl.

Working closing shifts at Aotearoa’s third-biggest fast food restaurant wasn’t what I had in mind for a first job, but beggars can’t be choosers. I spent 2019 cramming a whole lot of studying during my break thanks to my inconveniently-timed Level 2 Chemistry internals. While the job initially seemed unattractive, it was actually pretty fun. By the end of my time there I was able to walk away with what one customer said was the “nicest drive-thru voice” they had ever heard. Small wins, I guess?

There are a lot of old people who come in and are like, “Ooh what’s that accent, where are you from?”, but they’re so ancient that I don’t even care when they are like, “colonisation in India was so great, haha railways am I right?” The generation they grew up in normalised their viewpoints, so I’m happy to ignore the mildly-offensive things. What is important to me is that they treat me with respect and kindness. On the other hand, there are people who are not at all racist but treat me like shit because they think hospitality workers are below them and aren’t real human beings with feelings. I’m happy that I only have to deal with general bullshit instead of general + racist bullshit, which is a solid indicator of how low the standard is. It’s high time we change our attitudes towards hospitality workers—minimum wage is not enough to be on the receiving end of some sorry person’s temper tantrum.

Over the years I’ve also had my fair share of racerelated comments. At my first job, I was referred to as “the Chinese girl” on several occasions (I am not Chinese). Just last week at my current gig, a customer asked me where my “ancestry” was from before proceeding to tell me about his own travels to the Philippines (I’ve only ever been once, and I was so young that I have no recollection of it). While I’ve luckily never had to deal with any direct racism from customers, funky interactions like that are far from enjoyable and they throw off the vibe real quick. Hospitality has incredible highs and astronomical lows. As energy-draining as instances like that can get, most customers are super friendly and genuinely fun to talk to. Even though it’s been a couple of years since my first job, I still miss seeing the regulars. Now that I work on Cuba Street, most of the conversations I strike up consist of bonding over uni struggles or complimenting people on their dope fits. To preserve optimism, I try to remember that I am not just another cog in the capitalist machine. Instead, perhaps the real hospo journey is the friends (and money) we make along the way.

Hello: My name is… Words by Aroha Witinitara (they/them; Ngāti Kahungunu) The best thing about working for a business that operates as a franchise is that if you move, you can transfer between stores. That’s exactly what I did when I came to Wellington. With three years of experience under my belt in my previous role, I was an attractive candidate, and the Wellington branch was happy to take me on. There was one downside to this arrangement: Back home, as my position mainly involved working in the back, I had managed to sneakily phase out wearing my name badge. I definitely wouldn’t be able to get away with that here. I made the decision to stop wearing my name badge because of all the uncomfortable remarks customers would make when they noticed my name. My Māori name. The power imbalance between customers and servers in the hospitality industry gives people a tendency to voice particular opinions they usually would keep to themselves. Unless I’m prepared to lose my job, I can’t speak up for myself. It’s disheartening that so many people choose to express such ignorance the moment they know they can’t be held accountable for it. I was holding out some hope that this wasn’t happening to other people with the same frequency that it was happening to me. I hoped that maybe I was just unfortunate, maybe my workplace just serves a particularly entitled demographic. So, I asked some of the other Māori students about their experiences in hospitality; unfortunately, they found it very relatable. At work, we’re putting up with people reacting to us and our names with things like: “That’s too hard, there’s no way I can pronounce that.” “Do you have a nickname we can call you?”

“What a mouthful, I’m not even going to try and wrap my tongue around that one.”

“Have you considered changing it to something more normal?”

“Can you teach me more of your language?” The assumption that having a Māori name is synonymous with fluency in te reo adds to the reality of being Māori in the hospo industry. It is not in my favour to teach you “Māori phrases every New Zealander should know!” That is not my job both as a server and, most notably, as he Tangata Māori; educate yourself e hoa, both in te reo AND in being a decent person. These experiences have become part of everyday life for many of us. It might not seem like a big deal, but it’s alienating to endure these experiences. Up until now, I’ve tended to keep these experiences to myself; I’ve listened to my non-Māori colleagues be the perpetrators of these microaggressions when talking about customers behind their backs. Sharing these experiences sets me up to be rejected a second time based on that past behaviour. These incidents may seem small, but they are reminders that the culture of our everyday society doesn’t accept us as our authentic selves. www.salient.org.nz

Word of the Week: Restaurant SODUKU

Te Reo Māori: wharekai New Zealand Sign Language:

Name:

$$$$$ 1

d i

n 10c

e 11t

23r

16p

e 4

d i

12f

13c

a 15c

LAST WEEKS ANSWERS 8

17s

c r

21d

24e

25b

p o

h t

18r

e t

20l

a 22c

19b

14s

Created using the Crossword Maker on TheTeachersCorner.ne

THIS F-IN CROSSWORD

ACROSS

DOWN

1. 1903 achievement by the Wright Brothers (5,6) *

1. Amazed; put down carpeting (7)

7. Genre for Conway the Machine or Tyler, the Creator (3)

2. Cyclic experience for those who have not achieved nirvana, in Buddhism (13)

9. Left out (7)

3. Dorothy Gale’s dog; ‘Africa’ band (4)

10. Fabric often worn by lumberjacks and grunge artists (7) 11. With 19-Across, food seasoning with large granules (4,4) 12. The crack of dawn (5,5) * 14. Sweetheart; surname in ‘Peter Pan’ (7) 15. One might carry an industrial mop and an all-access swipecard (7)

4. Embedding; what one can find at a motel or hotel (7) 5. Innate talents (5) 6. Its cuisine includes massaman curry and green papaya salad (8) 7. Making amendments, as one might with a contract (13) 8. First episode; airline employee (5)

17. Where some theatre actors enter and exit (5,5) *

13. Like Bluetooth technology and mobile broadband (8)

19. See 11-Across

15. ___ Walker (Scotch whisky brand) (7)

21. Licorice flavouring (7) 22. Give sustenance to (7) 23. Piece of cookware; satyr deity (3) 24. Performance anxiety (5,6) *

16. Video game Lombax with the robotic companion Clank; one-way mechanical device (7) 17. Acute (5) 18. ‘The Darjeeling Limited’ setting (5) 20. Sound made by a pleased cat (4) www.salient.org.nz

Aries Don’t forget your kindness this week! Tension with the people around you is bound to arise if you aren’t careful with your tone. Remember, it’s not what you say it’s how you say it...

Cancer I’m going to sound clichéd and like one of your old high school teachers, but dear god do you need to improve your time management skills. Learn the difference between busy and disorganised.

Libra Time to align your body and mind. Walk or meditate. Get wild and pull out that old yoga mat (that you bought five years ago and have used twice) from the back of your wardrobe.

Capricorn You’ve been keeping your thoughts to yourself too much recently. You don’t have to tolerate anything! People need to be put in their place sometimes! Don’t let others overstep your boundaries.

Taurus Your phone is blowing up this week, your DMs are going off, and there just doesn’t seem to be enough of you to go round. It must be difficult to be so popular...

Leo You’ve got them right where you want ‘em. Expect apologies, poems, sweet nothings—gosh, even flowers. You’re used to the satisfaction of “I told you so,” but the novelty never really wears off, does it?

Scorpio I’d be wary of doing anything you wouldn’t want others to find out about this week. Mars and Saturn are disrupting all that is private for you. Stop being sneaky because those secrets are surfacing.

Aquarius There is a fine line between treating yourself and wasting your money. Do you really need another house plant? I’m not telling you off but I am keeping my eye on you...

Gemini I know there’s an assignment you’re putting off, a phone call you need to make, and just general responsibilities you’re avoiding. Well, this week’s the week you get back on your grind. No more excuses.

Virgo Virgo, your life’s amazing right now. Everything’s falling into place, just like you planned. Expect (but don’t demand) to be spoiled by everyone. Friends, families, strangers; you name it.

Sagittarius Cue the same advice you always hear: Practice makes perfect and consistency is key. If you’ve been putting regular effort towards your goal, this is your week of success. All your energy is compounding, baby!

Pisces Venus has moved into Pisces, and Venus looooves being in Pisces. You’ll be attracting all kinds of luck and good things all while looking your best. No, seriously, you look damn fine right now, Pisces.

THE SALIENT TEAM YOU CAN THANK THESE PEOPLE FOR YOUR WEEKLY FIX.

Editor Janhavi Gosavi

News Editor Beth Mountford

News Editor Azaria Howell

Designer Alice Brown

Chief Reporter Ethan Manera

Sub-Editor Lily Holloway

Features Editor Ronia Ibrahim

Staff Writer Bridget Scott

Staff Writer Maia Ingoe

Staff Writer Zoe Mills

CENTREFOLD ARTIST

This week’s amazing centrefold is brought to you by Humaidi Ridwan: Instagram: @doshotz

Social Media Manager Seren Ashmore

Podcast Manager Francesca Pietkiewicz

Phoebe Robertson Aroha Witinitara Anoushka Divekar Lauren Walker

Website Manager Annalise Scott

Contact Us features@salient.org.nz poetry@salient.org.nz editor@salient.org.nz designer@salient.org.nz chiefreporter@salient.org.nz news@salient.org.nz

CONTRIBUTORS Jack O’Donnell Naimh Vaughn Puck

Sophia Willis Emily Blennerhassett Laurelei Bautista Kaitlyn Randall

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Reckon you’ve got the gift of the gab? Salient Magazine is looking for contributors! We’re particularly interested in pitches for news stories, feature articles, reviews, culture pieces. Send a pitch to editor@salient.org.nz. Are visual arts more your thing? Get in touch with designer@salient.org.nz to see how you could contribute photography, illustrations, and centerfolds to the magazine.

Applications to be our Te Ao Māori Editor close by Tuesday 5 April! 8hrs/week and paid a living wage. We are looking for a Māori student to come join our staff as our Te Ao Māori Editor. You will regularly pitch and write articles (e.g. feature articles, news, reviews) and you will also screen other writers’ work for cultural appropriateness. The ideal candidate will be a proficient writer, and have a thorough understanding of te ao Māori, te reo Māori, and tikanga. Previous experience in journalism is desirable, but not required. To apply: send a CV, Cover Letter, and a writing portfolio of up to 3 pieces to editor@salient.org.nz by Tuesday 5 April.