I don't like Mondays

It’s Tuesday in Uturoa – a good day for the shops as groceries come in by boat on Monday nights. Mondays, we have discovered, make for slim pickings in our local “Champion” supermarket; overripe mangos, bunches of tiny orange bananas, white turnip–like vegetables with no taste whatsoever, purple courgette-like vegetables with no taste whatsoever, coconuts and the inevitable Thon Rouge. That's about the pick of it

Champion overlooking the harbour

Polynesian orange bananas

Turnip-like thing with no taste

Tuesdays on the other hand come resplendent with green leafy vegetables of many varieties, peppers, citrus fruits, herbs and naturally… a fresh catch of Thon Rouge.  

delicious!

Monday night meals are challenging to say the least; Tuesday nights are inspired by choice.  This morning  as I perused the well stocked shelves it felt like I was playing Salade Niçoise Bingo: lemons, check; potatoes, last two from Idaho but big ones, check: olives – only black with stones but cheaper than the elusive green ones, check; green beans, frozen but OK, check; eggs, oh my god eggs, check; tomatoes, frozen pieces but isn’t that how they come?, check; basil, check; thyme, check; olive oil, it will bankrupt us but check;  and Thon Rouge (no problem there), check!  A full house. What a day! Another Tuesday night triumph is on the way.  

The end product

The difficulty really is all the other nights.  We need inspiration.  The issue is ingredients: firstly their limited choice and secondly their price.  Obviously goods have a very long way to come but added to that wages are not taxed here.  Instead, there is an extremely high level of indirect taxation on goods and consumables making food prices up to 5x more expensive than at home. Our first few visits to Champion were sobering to say the least.  It felt like a trip to IKEA where it doesn’t matter how little you buy you always spend more than £100.00!   On the third or fourth trip though we made a purse changing discovery… red labels.  It sounds nothing when I write it down, but red labels are important.   They indicate French government subsidised food.  Not surprisingly coffee and baguettes are up there at the top of the list (sadly not patisseries or red wine).  Once you put your red label identifying glasses on, however, all sorts of delectable items jump out at you; tinned beetroots (who knew!), haricot beans, lentils of all varieties (yay), tinned peas, somewhat runny tomato puree, pasta, flour, gloopy rice, bottled carrots and peas (no comment), tinned sausages in a weird sauce (no comment), white turnip–like vegetables with no taste whatsoever, purple courgette-like vegetables with no taste whatsoever …dare I go on?  

Unsubsidised cashews - £10.00

Subsidised carrot/pea mix £1.90

We feel like we have gone back to first year University with our nightly cuisine inspired by Katherine Whitehorn’s “Cooking in a Bedsit”.  Generally, most of our meals look very similar to how they did then…. Mush-like but with Tuna rather than dodgy mince.  However, we do have a few late entries that might make the next edition should Miss Whitehorn decide to keep her book in print for a sixth decade.

·        Boiling lentils/split peas/beans or really anything in coconut milk is much tastier than water

·        Frozen green beans and tinned beetroot are actually delicious with gnocci

·        Spaghetti does work with curry – at least on a Monday

·        Grated ginger spices up the saddest meal…and the bits that don’t fit through the grater make a delicious brew (thanks Sarah E)

·        Less is more when it comes to runny tomato puree – don't use two cans when one will do

·        Never ever, under any circumstance, be tempted to use white turnip–like vegetables with no taste whatsoever.  They will ruin the most delicious mush

I should say we haven’t exhausted all the local produce - Taro being a major one that we’ve still not had the confidence to tackle - but we have tried most… so if any of you foodies can come up with new recipes to inspire Papillon’s recipe book I lay down the gauntlet! Remember substitute all protein with Thon Rouge!

 Moving on from food – well not quite because it seems that there are avenues to more delectable foodstuffs if you know where to look.  On Wednesday we were taken out for a meal at an amazing local restaurant by Herve, the previous owner of Papillon, and his wife Nadine.  The chef and owner was Nadine’s son so we definitely got the VIP treatment, but it was absolutely delicious none-the-less and not a grain of mush in sight.  A very good night was had by all, excellent bottle of wine chosen by the skipper, shared stories that sound so much better in Franglais than English and chauffeured there and back.  What’s not to like?

With Herve and Nadine

Full moon on the shore after the meal

It's been a very sociable week actually.  One consequence of a hot climate has been the reduction in our general aches and pains.  Consequently skipper has resumed his tennis career playing at the local club with our neighbour Florrie (using a borrowed racquet from Herve).  They go at 6.30am to avoid the heat but for us that’s practically mid-morning so no problem!! I have not been tempted but am eyeing up the local Pilates class.  Last week I zoomed in to my class in Glasgow (8am my time, 6pm Glasgow time).  Everything was set up on the foredeck with Olivia and me all ready to go.  At the stroke of 8am a truck pulled up and out hopped 6 workman who proceeded to work on the electricity and water supply points throughout the class, literally two metres away from my yoga mat   Now if that had been Glasgow I would have shut up shop and abandoned that yoga mat but out here there is an indifference to crazy tourists that is incredibly refreshing.  They weren’t remotely interested!!  Polynesian people are helpful and polite when you ask them for something but otherwise just get on with their lives. Its lovely.  

We were treated to a bit of Polynesian culture on Saturday when we went to our first official gig here. “Pepana” is a local band from Tahiti with quite a following (check them out on Spotify if you’re interested).   The whole evening turned out to be a celebration of St Valentine.  The dress code (taken very seriously) was red or white with flowers in your hair (the ladies) or around your neck  (ladies and gents).  

Valentine dress

Impressive hair garlands

Needless to say, we hadn’t seen that memo so did stick out like sore thumbs, but it didn’t matter. A communal meal was followed by a slightly dubious support band who played cover versions to accompany  a series of children's dancing displays (imagine Strictly come dancing – the results show – in Uturoa!). After much whooping and cheering for the performers by parents and friends, Pepana finally came on…it was after 10pm by this time.  They were great but sadly we only lasted 5 or 6 songs. We slunk away at 11pm leaving our 70+ year old neighbours to dance the night away until 2am!!  I’d like to blame the excitement of the rugby matches earlier in the day, but the bottom line is we go to bed so early here and exhaustion had set in.  To be fair the Polynesian people generally retire early too but apparently an exception is made for St Valentine!

On the boat front our bag of tools and spares has finally cleared customs and, assuming the payment goes through OK should be with us in the next few days.  Rare beers have been promised when it arrives!  To cover the delay the marina has kindly given us an extension until the end of February which is a huge help.  While we have been waiting both engines have been fully serviced by the lovely Thierry (who is now fully versed in the intricacies of Rugby Union rules as he came during the Scotland match!), I have been repairing the stack-pack that holds the collapsed mainsail, we have successfully checked out the mainsail and electric winch in a rare moment of calm, and… we are on the last leg with the solar panels.  

Mending the stackpack at sunrise

Mainsail is up!

It really is beginning to look like we will be away by March!

Yet more beautiful flowers

Marina at dusk