Hunger for the Wild

We would have felt a bit cheated if it hadn't been raining as we journeyed on to the West Coast. It seemed like the Holden was the only car on the road, as we edged our way along State Highway 6 through driving rain towards our mate Ginge's remote bach near Punakaiki.

Once we got there, we were lucky enough to experience Ginge's unorthodox and hair-raising way of catching a crayfish for the table, and to explore a remote and rugged region with a heap of colourful characters.
Hidden from the road, with the sky pitch-black and the wind thrashing the wet bush, we did well to find the small track that led to Ginge's place.
It was remote and kind of creepy, so to be welcomed by Ginge's big, smiley, friendly face was a relief. His classic Kiwi bach with its raging fire was a welcome haven from the ominous backdrop of mountain ranges, and the wild expanse of the Tasman Sea before us.
Time seems to have stood still in this part of the world. The huge granite faces behind the bach were covered with bush, mist and waterfalls and the place had an almost prehistoric feel - the sort of place you'd expect to see dinosaurs.

Al: There's a sense of life being a bit on the edge here and that in the West Coast things don't come easy. As a coast that is constantly bombarded with extreme weather and massive ocean seas, you can almost feel the struggle the people who've lived here have endured over the years.
Our mate Ginge
Ginge (Tony) Connors looks like a friendly Grizz Wiley - he's a big ginger walrus of a man. With a face full of laughter and a can-do attitude, he's a typical West Coaster. He has been a goldminer, a farmer, secretary of the local Kumara Racing Club, has a number of whitebaiting stands and is a hands-on dad. Ginge's wife Bev is also a 100 per cent West Coaster and a lawyer by day. We met Ginge and Bev about five or six years ago on a trip to the Coast looking for a regular supply of turbot for our restaurant, Logan Brown.
We spent a day meeting local fishermen and later that evening they took us around to have dinner at Ginge and Bev's place. It was your classic West Coast ambush. Here were these two Flash Harrys with a fancy restaurant in Wellington and, without a doubt, Ginge and his mates were thinking 'let's put these guys to task and see what they can do'.
With plenty of ribbing being directed our way we were escorted out the back to a large, old West Coast kitchen. We were presented with a number of different species of fish like cod, turbot and, from memory, there was even some whitebait.
We made a few dishes as quickly as possible as we were dying to join in on a few drinks. We sat around a huge dinner table with a whole lot of Coasters in what was to be an extraordinary evening of laughter, good food and plenty of wine to wash it down.
Driving back to Westport the next day, we stopped off to check out Ginge and Bev's bach and we were blown away by its position on the beautiful, remote coast at Punakaiki. In typical West Coast manner, Ginge showed us where the keys were left and, in his modest fashion, said to use it any time.
Snatch-potting with Ginge
Ginge is an expert fisherman and has been catching crays off the rocks near his bach for over 20 years. It's called snatch-potting and is something of a tradition in this neck of the woods, where people have been doing it for generations. As we were to find out, it's one hell of a way to catch a cray!
After winning the toss, it was Steve who had to get up pre-dawn in order to hit the low tide at one of Ginge's favourite spots. Al had the sleep-in but was charged with making some basil mayonnaise and gathering the other ingredients for dinner.
It was a drizzly morning that Steve and Ginge headed out into. The storm had passed but there was a big sea running. Ginge didn't like the look of it but was prepared to give it a go. Ginge reckoned he and Steve were in for a bit of a walk, which in West Coast language means one hell of an adventure.
The adventure began with a steep descent down a bushy track and a walk along a stunning beach, followed by a wade through the sea, a meeting with some grumpy seals and finally a gut-busting scramble up a slippery, sheer cliff.
Once at the top, it was just a matter of dodging birds, avoiding thorny scrub and traversing some treacherous rock crevasses. It turned out that Ginge's spot was a slippery downward-sloping rocky ledge with a sheer 50 foot drop down to a wild, thrashing sea.
'With that below and the grey dawn sky, drizzle and squalling birds pressing in on me from above, it was exciting, exhilarating and petrifying all at once,' Steve recalled. that it had been there forever and had endured everything the Coast could throw at it, weathering the harshest elements throughout the years.
For most New Zealanders the bach or holiday home remains a true Kiwi icon, with a sentimental attachment that has lasted for generations of New Zealanders.

The word 'bach' is literally taken from the word 'bachelor' referring to a man who, perhaps, lived alone in basic surroundings with just the fundamentals required for living. In the south of the South Island a bach is more commonly known as a crib. Most start out as a bit of a lean-to and then over the years another room or window might be added, or a deck, to catch the last of the evening sun. They tend to grow almost organically.
Entering a real bach is like stepping into a time warp - memories of a familiar smell, the single decent chair that everyone fights over, or, perhaps, a particular creaky floorboard. Each bach has its tiny idiosyncrasies that make it unique. People have big ideas about fixing up their baches, but then they're on holiday so rarely get around to it!

Black MUSSELS AND salami
Al was unaware of Steve's plight out on the clifftop with Ginge. Meanwhile he'd found a great rocky area not far from the bach that was coated in black mussels and he'd gathered a small sackful. Small black mussels grow abundantly in the rocky tidal zones along the West Coast and are a ready source of seafood for all to gather and enjoy. Smaller than the more commonly eaten greenshell mussels, black mussels are sweet and juicy and the beauty is that you can still get a feed at low tide even if the weather's no good for getting out in the boat. To go with the mussels and crayfish he wanted chorizo - a type of spicy smoked sausage - and he knew exactly where to find some.
Historic Blackball, tucked away on the inland side of the Paparoa ranges, is famous for being the birthplace of the Labour Party. More importantly, its butcher Pat Kennedy - who has been butchering in Blackball since he was 14 years old - is well known up and down the country for making great sausages and salami.
'Having eaten a heap of Pat's products over the years, going into his butcher shop was like visiting the Holy Grail of salami,' said Al. 'It was the first time I had met Pat and it's always great to get to know the person behind a product.'
The remarkable thing about Blackball is that it's basically an old mining town in the middle of nowhere that has rebuilt itself largely around its hotel, Formerly The Blackball Hilton, and Pat's butchery.
It's wonderful to find these great products in such a remote location. You could put that down to the West Coast can-do attitude and willingness to adapt. Pat Kennedy put his head down and worked at what he was good at and the market came to him instead of him going to the market.
Pat gave Al a dozen beautiful chorizo sausages straight from the smoker.

The swell was running high and after a quick survey from his precarious perch, Ginge said that he didn't like their chances. Since they'd come all this way though they weren't going back without giving it a crack. With the tide pushing in there was time for about three decent throws with the snatch pot.
The actual process of snatch-potting is comparatively simple. Ginge ties a fish head to a weighted snatch pot which is like a big basketball hoop but with the net closed off at the bottom. It is tied to a long line of rope secured to the bank where we stood. Ginge throws the snatch pot down into the water below. The art is getting it in the right spot and, once there, he'll leave it for about ten minutes - enough time for the crayfish to be lured onto the net, but not so long that they finish eating and make a quick exit.
Crayfish, or more correctly rock lobsters, usually hang out under rocky ledges, hiding in underwater dens during the day to shelter from predators and storms, but they can also wander large distances across the seafloor. There's strong evidence that they possess a magnetic directional compass and geographic positioning capabilities; however, it's their sense of smell that fishermen rely on to lure crayfish into their traps.
Steve: The craziest thing was that Ginge was oblivious to the risks he was taking. Every time he stepped out onto the ledge I was wondering: What if he went over? What could I do? What would I do? It was probably Ginge's nonchalance, backed up by his years of experience that kept my gob shut. Oh yeah, and the fact that we needed a cray for the cook-up back at the bach!

Pulling the pot
The critical part of snatch-potting is the actual snatch. Before you do this you have to gently pull up the slack until the rope becomes taut against the pot, the idea is that you don't disturb the crays feeding on the bait. When you have a taut rope you 'snatch' the pot, pulling it quickly and smoothly back up to the surface, keeping the rope tight to prevent the crays from escaping. It's an art that Ginge has perfected, but that day it wasn't getting results. After two throws, all they came up with was a couple of paddle crabs. That's hardly a feed for four, but the thought of returning empty-handed was all the motivation Ginge and Steve needed.
The seas were building as tide and time were working against them. There was just time for one last throw and they were hoping it would be a good one.

AL'S BASIC BACH MAYO
Everyone should know how to make a real mayo. You can buy other relishes and condiments for the bach, but a good basic mayonnaise makes a huge difference to the way things taste; and compared with a processed supermarket version - well, there's no comparison.
I like a little bit of sugar in there just because I like the balance of sweet and sour and a little bit of heat from the mustard to round out the flavours.
Make a big batch of mayo at the beginning of the holiday and adapt small portions of it, with the addition of one or more ingredients, to suit the dish of the day.
Store the basic mix in an airtight container in the fridge.
ingredients
4 egg yolks
1/2 tablespoon dijon mustard
1 lemon (juice of)
1 tablespoon cider vinegar
2 teaspoons sugar
3/4 cup olive oil
3/4 cup canola or other cooking oil
salt and freshly ground pepper to season
method

Using either a hand-held food blender or food processor fitted with a metal blade, place the egg yolks, mustard, lemon juice, cider vinegar and sugar in the bowl and process for five seconds until incorporated. With the motor running, slowly drizzle in the blended olive and canola oils. Season with salt and pepper.
variations
o Add a handful of chopped mint to the mayo and blend for a great accompaniment for things like new potatoes or barbecued lamb.
o Roasted garlic and finely chopped thyme added to the mayo is great with game.
o Add gherkins, red onion, capsicum, grain mustard and capers to make a tartare sauce.
o The addition of bloomed saffron to the mayo is terrific with steamed shellfish.
o Add orange and lemon juice to turn the mayo into a runny citrus sauce.
o Add ground cumin, curry powder and cayenne pepper for an Indian-style mayo that tastes great with marinated chargrilled meats and chicken.

The final snatch
The anticipation was unreal as Ginge stepped out onto the ledge to pull the snatch pot for the third and final time. From where he was sitting Steve couldn't see the pot coming out of the water, all he could hear was Ginge's joyful chuckle as he declared, 'Yay hey, we're in business, Logie!'
What made it even sweeter was that there were three good-sized crays on board - all keepers.
Ginge, never one to miss an opportunity said, 'Righto then, we'll go back and see if they've got some mates!' With one more quick snatch Ginge got another beauty. Four crays and it was time to catch up with Al.
As Ginge and Steve made their long, cold, wet trip home, it was made easier as they anticipated all the glory in arriving with the catch, the big hot and hearty meal to come and the chance to relive tales of the hunt over a few drinks with Al and Bev.

Watercress salad
The simplicity of this salad, pure as you like, is hard to beat. It could be made with rocket, watercress, or even a chunk of iceberg lettuce - just keep in mind that it's all about balancing the richness of the other components of the meal. Simply rinse some watercress, then dress with a drizzle of olive oil, a squeeze of lemon juice and a pinch of salt and pepper.

Roadside deli
While Steve and Ginge were making their way back, Bev had joined Al back at the bach. She helped clean the mussels and told Al that Ginge had taken her out snatch-potting when they were courting, but that she hadn't been back since.
After cleaning the mussels Bev took Al to a classic West Coast roadside deli, a ditch by the side of the road. It was on prime waterfront, spring-fed real estate - the perfect place to find salad ingredients to go with the crayfish.
To hunt, gather, catch, or harvest from the wild stirs a huge passion in people. From earliest times when hunting and gathering was a means of staving off death until today, each outing into the wild is bound by a common theme - anticipation. There's always an air of excitement, often coupled with a hint of nervousness as one heads out to sea or into the hills, or walks up a stream quietly stalking prey. It's that anticipation that keeps us heading back into the wild. Then there's the point when that anticipation can turn to ecstasy, sheer joy or, in many cases, huge relief as the moment of capture is realised. There is a massive weight that literally falls from your shoulders, which in our case is immediately replaced with a completely different form of anticipation - hunger!

BARBECUED CRAYFISH WITH MUSSEL & CHORIZO RAGO^UT
&BASIL MAYO By Al Brown
This is a great dish that tastes even better when you've gathered the ingredients yourself. However, if you aren't lucky enough to have scored a crayfish, no worries - the chorizo and mussel combination makes for a satisfying dish with or without it. You could easily throw a piece of blue cod on top or, if there are no mussels, use cockles. Don't limit yourself to exactly what's in the recipe.
A crusty hunk of bread and a salad with this completes this meal perfectly. The basil mayo is a variation on Al's basic bach mayo, see page 19. Serves 8 as a main.

STEP 1. Basil mayo
ingredients
1 handful fresh basil leaves
1 cup Al's basic bach mayo
salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
method
Using either a hand-held blender or food processor fitted with a metal blade, process fresh basil leaves until smooth. Fold the basil mix into the mayo and season with salt and freshly ground black pepper. Refrigerate until required.

STEP 2. Chorizo rago^Ut
ingredients
1/4 cup olive oil
350 g chorizo sausage, finely diced
500 g onion, finely diced
250 g celery, finely diced
1 tablespoon garlic, minced
60 g tomato paste
4 cups whole peeled tomatoes, pur'eed
1 teaspoon sugar
method
Take a large saucepan and place over heat. Once hot add the olive oil and chorizo. Cook for 5 minutes then add the onion, celery and garlic. Turn
down the heat and sweat the vegetables and chorizo for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. As the water evaporates out of the celery and onions, the flavours will intensify. Finally add the tomato paste, the pur'eed tomatoes and sugar. Cook for another 15 minutes. Remove from the heat and hold until required. Refrigerate if using the next day.

STEP 3. Black mussels steamed in RAGO^UT
ingredients
3 kg fresh mussels, cleaned and debearded
2 cups white wine
4 crayfish, halved down the centre, cleaned and dried
melted butter
salt and pepper to season
1/2 cup fresh basil leaves, roughly chopped
2 cups chopped tomatoes
50 g butter, roughly chopped
method

First heat up your barbecue until it's good and hot. Now place a large saucepan on high heat and add the chorizo ragout. Once the ragout is heated through, add the fresh mussels and white wine. Place a lid on the saucepan and turn the heat down to medium.
While the mussels are cooking, brush the crayfish halves with butter or oil then season with salt and pepper. Place the crayfish halves, flesh side down on the grill or flat top and cook for 4 to 5 minutes before turning.
Now check the mussels. They should have started to open up, so add the fresh basil, chopped tomato and butter. Place the lid back on and turn the heat down to low.
The crayfish are ready when the shell has turned bright red and the tail flesh comes away from the cavity with ease.

STEP 4. plating and serving
lemon wedges to garnish
crusty bread
watercress salad
To serve, divide the mussels into 8 bowls and spoon over liberal amounts of the chorizo rago^ut. Take the tails of the crayfish, remove the flesh from the shell cavities and slice into pieces. Place on top of the steaming hot mussels. Finish with a dollop of basil mayo and garnish with a lemon wedge. Serve with heaps of crusty bread for dipping, and watercress salad on the side.

STEVE'S TIPS ON HOW TO PREPARE AND BARBECUE CRAYFISH
Split the crayfish in two, starting with the crayfish on its back, cutting from the mouth down through the centre of the body using a combination of slicing and chopping actions.
Pull out and wash the innards or any parts you don't want to eat.
To ensure a nice seal when the cray hits the hot plate dry the flesh with paper towels.
Brush with butter or oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper.
Ensure the barbecue is hot enough - the crayfish should sizzle from the moment it hits the plate.
Place the crayfish flesh-side down first for 4 to 5 minutes. Turn and finish off cooking on the shell side for 3 to 4 minutes.
If your barbecue has a lid, close it to speed things up and generate all-round heat. If not, cover the crayfish with a roasting pan to achieve the same effect.
It pays to err on the side of undercooking crayfish as it will continue to cook after it comes off the barbecue.

STEVE'S WINE RECOMMENDATION
Neudorf Chardonnay from Nelson
Wherever we travel we gather food from the region so we try to incorporate wine from local vineyards, too. Neudorf is a fabulous producer of elegant yet full-flavoured and well-structured wines, especially Chardonnay. Their Chardonnay has weight and power that stands up well to the rich and robust mussel stew. Its fresh, citrus character complements the crayfish and creamy basil mayonnaise, freshening the palate after every sip.

This article is an extract from Al and Steve's fantastic book Hunger for the Wild. Availble in all good bookstores nationwide.