Though the exact history of the pie is not clear, it represents not only a preference for sweet foods but two other great American addictions: litigation and corn. Originally called derby pie, Tippins changed the name to dixie pie to avoid litigation with Kern’s Kitchen, who has defended a registered trademark for “derby pie” since the 1950s. In The American Century Cookbook, Jean Anderson notes surprise that there are no records of recipes of this traditional dessert (as pecan pie) before the early 20th century and that it may have actually been created by Karo corn syrup’s economists. If they didn’t originate it, they certainly popularized it, as nearly all recipes call for Karo by name. The ingredients also include bourbon whiskey, which is made from corn.

Here in New Zealand, you’ll find variteties of golden syrup on the grocery shelves rather than corn syrup. I first assumed that “golden syrup” was a euphemism for golden corn syrup, but it’s a thick form of inverted sugar-syrup made from sugar cane, also known as pale treacle. In this pie however, you’ll find organic grade B maple syrup, because that’s what was in my cupboard, and it tastes delicious with both chocolate and walnuts.

Decadent Deep-South Dark Chocolate Walnut Pie

Deep-south here refers to New Zealand as much as the US as my ingredients were not traditional. But the crunchy and custardy textures and flavors hit all the right notes of my dixie pie memories.

Crust
Confession: This year I bought fresh pastry dough made by the wondrous Marie of the organic La Patisserie de Marie & Nico in Miramar, Wellington because it’s the best I’ve ever tasted. (And because last year the pie dough making took the better part of a day.) If I hadn’t, I would have used Martin Bosley’s shortcut pastry (adapted from Rachel Taulelei’s 12 September Newsletter for Wellington’s City Market, where she describes her own pie entry, the delicious ‘Four and Twenty Titi” pie that was my first taste of the distinctive muttonbird) below, not only because it sounds simple and good, but also because he was one of the judges.

50g flour
a pinch of salt
70g unsalted butter, chilled
ice-cold water

Put the flour and salt into a bowl and add the butter in small chunks. Cut into the flour with a small knife and rub with your fingertips until the mix resembles fine breadcrumbs. It only takes a couple of minutes to do this, but you could use the food processor if you prefer. Sprinkle a little cold water over the crumbs and bring to a rollable dough (it should look slightly crumbly but firm enough to roll), adding more water if needed. Cover in plastic wrap and set aside in the fridge for 30 minutes. Cut the pastry in half and roll it out on a lightly floured kitchen bench, then line a 22cm/9″ pie pan, leaving a good amount of pastry overhanging the edges to be trimmed off.

Filling
1 1/2 cups (150 g) walnut pieces or halves
1/2 cups walnut halves
2 ounces (57 g) organic dark chocolate, coarsely chopped
3 large eggs
1 cup gur or jaggery (unrefined sugar made from raw sugarcane juice)
1 cup maple syrup
2 tablespoons (25g) salted butter
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 tablespoon Grand Marnier (Typically bourbon is used, but this turned out great.)

Preheat the oven to 180°C (350°F) and place the oven rack in the bottom third of the oven

Melt the chocolate in a stainless steel bowl placed over a saucepan of simmering water, then set aside.

Whisk the eggs in a large bowl, then whisk in the jaggery (sugar), maple syrup, melted butter, vanilla extract, and stir in the melted chocolate.

Place the walnut pieces across the bottom the crust and pour the filling over the walnuts. Arrange the walnut halves in on top of the pie in a decorative pattern.

Place the pie on a baking sheet and bake for 50 to 60 minutes until the filling is puffed up but still wobbly when gently shaken. If the pastry edges are getting brown, cover with foil to prevent burning. (I could have done this a little earlier.)

Remove from oven and allow to cool. Serve warm or at room temperature with vanilla ice cream or whipped cream.

This pie features additional dark chocolate drizzled on top, but the walnut design is pretty on its own too. I presented a big bowl of delicious Kohu Road Vanilla ice cream along with the pie, which was not the most brilliant choice for an all-evening event, as the ice cream melted into a bowl of soup early in the evening (see below).

And now to start thinking about next year… if you have any recommendations, let me know! In the meantime, I’ll study KCRW’s Good Food Pie-A-Day series and piecasts.

Thanks Stephanie Jaworski for the pie history lesson and inspiring chocolate pecan pie recipe.

Wellington is blessed with relatively abundant water, and therefore most people take it for granted and spare it little thought. I just returned from the Sonoran Desert, where it is always top of mind that water equals life, and started to wonder about the water sources in my new home. Where does it come from? How does it get to us? What happens in between? I was excited to discover a municipal water tasting as part of the Wellington on a Plate Festival, and that it was moderated by Simon Woolley, whose Antipodes Water was a happy discovery on a reconnaissance trip through New Zealand to decide whether I’d want to live here. Abundantly wonderful water was one of the reasons I did.

Where does it come from?

Wellington draws water from different sources for delivery throughout the region, using waters from the Tararuas and also the Pakuratahi Forest catchment in the Rimutakas via a tunnel through Wainuiomata. The Kapiti Coast is supplied from bores and rivers.

Petone’s untreated artesian water is a source of pride for its residents, and Te Puna Wai Ora (Spring of Life), the Petone municipal public bore, is used night and day by people who lug 20 litre containers to fill for domestic use.

Sculpture fountain over spring water bore at Moore Wilson store on Tory Street, Wellington, New Zealand

Tory Street in central Wellington features a 470 feet bore that was once used as the basis for a soft drink factory. A magnificent bronze fish and tree sculpture marks the spot where the bore has been reopened for public use at Moore Wilson’s. (Water carrying vessels may be found upstairs for purchase in the variety store.)

How does it get here?

The Greater Wellington Regional Council collects and treats drinking water and sells it to the city councils that supply water to homes and businesses in each city. Water, wastewater and stormwater services are actively managed by Capacity Infrastructure Services Ltd, a CCTO (Council Controlled Trading Organization) jointly owned by Wellington City Council and Hutt City Council. Homeowners pay a targeted rate annually for water based on property capital value but can choose to install a water meter and pay for actual usage.

How does it taste?

I had heard that Wellington has the best tap water in New Zealand, Petone has the best tap water in Wellington and the Buick St fountain has the best artesian water in Petone. Is all our regional water the same? We blind-tasted 12 waters at room temperature, all gathered within a day in glass tester bottles and served in wine glasses at the lovely Osteria del Toro. We were provided with helpful tasting notes on what to look for:

1. Clarity. Is it bright and sparkling? Are there any particulates in suspension? When swirled does the clarity change?
2. Aroma. Are there any obvious chemical odours? Some can be introduced for purification process. Some are innate such as hydrogen Sulphide – which can indicate volcanic activity.
3. Taste – Mouth feel. Does it coat the mouth evenly or are there sharp notes in the water?
4. Flavour. We taste sweet, sour, bitter, salty and umami. What flavours can you taste? Are there flavours of chemicals or is there a metallic taste?
5. Natural flavour. Is there any indication of the presence of these flavours – such as what you experience when you drink from a stream in the bush?
6. Length of the flavour. Can we taste the flavour long after we have swallowed? Does it linger or does it disappear immediately?

Though I had hoped to suss out subtle differences in terroir, feeling the variations in pH and mineral components, my palate’s vocabulary consisted mostly of lovely, nasty, burning, soft, heavy, salty and furry. Our wonderful host Simon found a leathery note with many of them, but I didn’t get that either. The unanimous winner was a selection from the untreated private bore at Ruth Pretty‘s home property in Te Horo, Waikanae. This may be the secret to her successful catering and food business — it definitely makes me want to attend one of the Wellington on a Plate events or cooking school at her place.

Nice (the top 3 are the picks from the whole group tasting… My personal order was 1,3,5,4,2):
1. Spring at Ruth Pretty’s home in Te Horo, Waikanae untreated. Notes: mild, alkaline, soft
2. Lower Hutt tap – aquifer, ph adjusted slightly with lime, unfiltered. Notes: heavier water, sweet aftertaste
3. Tory St bore at Moore Wilson’s. Notes: soft, lovely
4. Petone Buick St bore. Notes: no nose, lab-like, distilled water
5. Brooklyn Spring, untreated private spring. Notes: nice, syrupy

Neutral:
6. Pump bottled water, a wild card selection Coca-cola from Blue Springs in Putaruru Notes: not clean, unpleasing
7. Upper Hutt – collected surface water, treated. Notes: crisp chlorine nose, gentle taste, something not so nice at the the end note.

Nasty:
8. Karori, Wellington treated tap water. Notes: salty, heavily treated
9. Otaki, Kapiti Coast treated tap water. Notes: chlorine nose, burns my nose, unanimously disliked
10. Waikanae, Kapiti Coast – highly treated tap water. Notes: chemical sweetness, universally disliked
11. Whakatane – Braemar Springs – another wild card selection of treated tap water from up North. Notes: furry on the palate, chlorine nose
12. Carterton, Wairarapa – treated tap water. Notes: Janola nose but mild on the palate

Why so nasty?

The chemical smell and taste of the treated tap water comes from chlorine, which the Greater Wellington Council typically adds at 0.6 to 0.8 mg/L, acknowledging the aesthetic guideline value for adversely affecting the taste and odour is 0.6 mg/L. Lucky Lower Hutt has chosen to opt out of treatment as the water comes from a secure underground aquifer. While chlorine’s effectiveness in killing bacteria that cause water-borne diseases like typhoid and cholera has saved lives, chlorine also attacks our beneficial internal bacteria, disrupting our digestive and immune systems. When chlorine interacts with organic matter, it creates disinfection byproducts which are associated with bladder and colorectal cancer (the most frequently diagnosed and second most common cause of cancer death in NZ) and linked to artherosclerosis.

Another troubling component that you can’t smell or taste is fluoride, which gets added at the GWRC water treatment facilities Te Marua, Wainuiomata and Waterloo treatment plants. Only Petone and Korokoro, supplied from Hutt City Council’s Rahui reservoir receive unfluoridated water. New Zealand was the second country to begin fluoridating their water to improve dental health, but scientific evidence now points to swallowed fluoride causing harm and providing no benefits. (A rational compliation of research is available at Second Look.) Many dentists who once advocated for fluoridation now oppose it.

Wellington’s mayoral election is coming up in October, 2010, and I have read each candidate’s reassuring positions against water privatization. The folks from Capacity I talked with at the event said privatization of water here was simply a non-starter, there was no mandate for it. I’d love to know if any support ending spending taxpayer money on mass medication with fluoride and exploring healthier alternatives to chlorine treatment (such as ozone or UV).

Until that happens, the best options for health and taste are to collect your water from a private or public bore, live in Petone or Korokoro to receive untreated water, or install a reverse osmosis or distillation system to the water coming into your home. I was surprised to see Kapiti voted to continue fluoridating water in June, and that it’s become such an emotive issue rather than one based on scientific evidence. I’d love to read your comments on Wellington water quality and policies.

Other interesting droplets from discussion with Simon and the table while tasting:
• With sparkling water, the amount of bubbles are usually more an indication of how clean the glass is rather than how much carbonation the water has. If the glass is truly clean, you won’t see many bubbles at all.
• Even more than the total amount of dissolved solids, water flavor is affected by how much salt. Fiji and Evian have about the same amount of solids, but Evian tastes much saltier and heavier.
• Old pipes and fittings can leach heavy metals into your water. Let it flow for about 60 seconds to flush them or at least enough to fill up a mug before using to drink or in food.
• Heat is the major factor in delaminating plastic containers, therefore the concern of water bottles sitting in cars. Many pasteurized products are also heat treated in their plastic packaging – what are the effects? And will plastic water pipes turn out to be better or even more problematic than metal over time?

All I knew about Max Gimblett when I learned he was leading a sumi ink workshop in Wellington was that I liked his “Low Tide” installations at the Asian Contemporary Art Fair and Asia Society in New York and his lustrous signature quatrefoils.

I arrived at Capital E for Max Gimblett’s sumi ink painting workshop to see the chairs arranged in a circle that resembled an ensō, which would be our first painting exercise.

Max introduced himself as a mad monk (affiliated with the San Francisco Zen Center) whose monk name means “Diamond Brush Awareness”, and stated we were now a group, a Gestalt, and to speak only to the whole group and the centre of the circle, not to each other. Furthermore, he stated he is very intuitive, and any resistance would not be helpful. Of course, that just made me resist like crazy. But it all dissolved the moment we picked up our brushes and began our wild ride.

We began with the ensō [Max's, mine], and made several attempts each. Max paints like Tibetan Buddhist monks debate, animated with kinetic punctuations. He describes it as automatism, “one stroke bone” and “all mind and no mind”. Think very clearly of what you want do before you start, and then let go and free your mind while doing, “a little like making love.”

We expressed koans in ink. What was your face before the face you were born with? Then we dove into Jungian typologies and cognitive processes: thinking, feeling, intuition, and sensing. Which one is the hardest for you to reach? That one’s your shadow. What is your dominant process? (I’m an ENFJ, in case you’re curious.)

Between each exercise we held up our paintings for each other to see and comment upon into the circle. By the end of the hour, we’d produced quite a body of work and harmonized into a group. Afterwards he walked around and discussed our work with us individually; above are some video clips from the conversations. We also discussed the edge vs the centre, an idea Brian Sweeney explores in depth at nzedge.com and one that captivates me as a recent migrant from NY to NZ. His last advice to me was if things weren’t working, to add a little red: “Red always makes things zing.”

Max is currently has exhibitions of new work at Paige Blackie Gallery, “White Stone Clear Water,” in Wellington (19 May – 20 June 2009) and at Gow Langsford Gallery, “Full Fathom Five” in Auckland (5 May – 29 May 2009). His work was included in the Guggenheim Museum’s exhibition The Third Mind: American Artists Contemplate Asia (recently completed, but interesting presentation online).

• Max Gimblett’s website
• Max Gimblett on YouTube
• Max Gimblett discusses life as he thinks
• Max Gimblett in Art World, February 2009 by John Yau

NB: Good source for Chinese calligraphy brushes and Chinese Traditional Medicine in Wellington: Wellcare Chinese Medicine Shop 215, Left Bank, Cuba Mall, Wellington, 04 382 9451.

I had been seduced by a terroirist network known as New Zealand Artisan Honey, made up of passionate beekeepers producing honeys in small, quality batches from specific varietal sources among some of New Zealand’s most spectactular locations.

Sadly, most bees and beekeepers are not having such a romantic experience. I had noticed my previous honey brands losing their organic status as the varroa mite has spread south through New Zealand. There is evidence that CCD (Colony Collapse Disorder) has arrived in New Zealand, and it’s likely due to the strong neonicotinoids, a class of systemic insecticides which France, Italy and Switzerland have banned because of its effects on bees.

In the amazing TED Talk above, Dr. Jill Taylor (author of My Stroke of Insight: A Brain Scientist’s Personal Journey) reaches the insights Oprah and Eckhart discuss through a stroke. As a neuroanatomist, she was able to observe her own stroke from the inside out. She uses a real human brain as a prop, showing how differently the left and right hemispheres experience the world, outlining an anatomy of enlightenment and “circuitry of peace.”

Her talk highlighted for me how we are literally out of balance individually and collectively. “Modern” education focuses almost solely on the left brain and undervalues development of the right side. We need to develop the whole thing and use everything we’ve got. Bring back arts, music and movement and add in meditation. (Of course, if you use more than 5% of your brain, you don’t want to be on Earth anymore…)

Kabat-Zinn, author of Wherever You Go, There You Are, Coming to Our Senses, Full Catastrophe Living, and Arriving at Your Own Door, opened the conversation with a gorgeous poem from which the title of his latest book came:

The second poem Kabat-Zinn used was by a poet from whom the name of yours truly was inspired. (Thanks Mom and Dad):

During the discussion, he defined meditation as “attention in service of self-understanding and liberation.” He also used “awarenessing” as a verb in places where you might expect to hear “thinking” instead.

Both he and Bokara somehow started to blame technology for accelerating time, to which I respectfully disagree. Oddly enough, my brother gave me a book on just that topic this week, The Mayan Code, which asserts that time acceleration is a manifestation of the acceleration of consciousness. So perhaps it’s Jon Kabat-Zinn and Bokara who are responsible for this phenomenon through talks like these! Your thoughts (and awarenesses) welcome, of course.

The surreal romance of aristocratic expat Lucy and castaway Jack enchanted me as I strolled through Sydney’s Royal Botanical Gardens in early January, following their love story on a handheld HP GPS device preloaded with Anita Fontaine‘s spooky sweet Ghost Garden, part of the 2008 Sydney Festival. As I traveled through the gardens, certain locations would trigger animated scenes that revealed the story, set in the 1800s. I could feel the past, present and future all melting into one, and I got excited imagining the day when it be easy to create my own site-specific adventures for people to discover as they’re traveling through a space.

That day turned out to be less than a month away! Wherigo is a flexible gaming platform that Garmin is embedding in their new Colorado 400t Handheld GPS unit (Pictured at right. Thanks, Brady!) Wherigo Builder allows anyone to build alternate reality games, tour guides, local reviews, real estate marketing apps, scavenger hunts, pub crawls or Victorian love stories that are site-specific by mapping out zones, creating a story and then sharing it online. (Alternately, you could write it directly in Lua, a programming language whose name means “moon” in Portuguese and is also what World of Warcrafters use to build on top of their platform.) If you have a PocketPC Device, you can download the Wherigo Player and start playing.

Anything similar for the iPhone’s fauxGPS maps or soon to be true GPS?

For now, you can enjoy my Emily Approved Sydney recommendations in Google Maps and in Google Earth.

Coming from a deep natural aquifer to the surface in Whakatane, New Zealand, Antipodes has real mouth appeal. It’s less aggressively carbonated than my usual brew, San Pellegrino, and it’s easy on the eyes too.

Dressed in classic Mrs. Eaves, Antipodes complements any table without overpowering it. The oviform bottle echoes the round beads streaming up when opened. It’s a happy thing to hold.

I know, I know… you have issues with bottled water. I do too. But a girl’s gotta have a vice, and until I can pour sparkling from the tap, I’ll order the bottle. (When out… technically I could make my own at home.) If it makes you feel any better, Antipodes is the first premium water to be certified carbon neutral in production and export, and they plan to be carbon neutral to any table, hotel room or home anywhere in the world by 2008.

Antipodes is currently served only in hand-picked great restaurants around New Zealand, hence their restaurant list is a good guide to the restaurants I want to try. You can order Antipodes by the case for home delivery in the United States through New Zealand Natural Goods, but at $60 for 12, I’d have to consider it a design element to justify it. Oh, wonderful! Oprah already did.