Saturday 2 February 2013


Today I gave a whole new meaning to the word 'overeat'.

I perfected the verb, adding a new layer and embracing its cousins gorge, binge and gormandize (I swear I did not make up that last word; look it up if you don't believe me).

I had the good fortune of being commissioned to do a food walking tour of Miramar (otherwise known as Wellwood, home to Peter Jackson's film empire) for a publication. The Animator came along to take my photos and a group of us trudged from shop to shop, talking to artisanal producers, suppliers and entrepreneurs. We sampled everything from char-grilled baby octopus and olives the size of my fist to pasta rolled fresh off the machine and churros with a chocolate dipping sauce that would give the health police conniptions.

You know that feeling you get after Christmas lunch when a constricting band of discomfort settles around you, almost as if you've pulled your belt too tight? Well put that in high def and that's sort of how I feel this afternoon. All I want do is lie on the grass reading my book and massaging my poor groaning stomach.

Instead, in two hours, we are due for dinner with one of the Animator's colleagues, a lovely Italian chap who first came to Welly to work on Lord of the Rings. There will be a mountain of delicious food and wine. I will wear a loose dress and dig deep into my bag of endurance. Wish me luck.

Photos of today's food walking tour (courtesy of the Animator):


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