How a chip shop curry inspired a nationwide foodies’ institution
allowance of irradiation, rather than producers waiting for applications case-by-case.
Some producers say would welcome the change.
Matthew Malcolm, managing director of Southland producer, So Sweet, says his company used to export parsnips to Australia, but increased quarantine regulations made it impossible.
‘‘Without New Zealand supply, Australia retailers are unable to meet demand which sends seasonal prices soaring,’’ he says.
If irradiation was an option, he’d be able to send parsnips to Australia again.
Irradiated food needs to be labelled, which has been a source of contention. Friends of the they
Earth researchers have uncovered examples of imported tomatoes and mangoes being sold either without labels, or with inadequate labels.
Tait says the labelling regime is a ‘‘farce’’, robbing consumers of proper choice. He had examples where ‘‘the lettering is half the width of a wire on a paper clip, or putting the warning on a brand sticker – that’s not where consumers expect to see that information’’.
No enforcement action had been taken when infringements were highlighted.
Green Party food safety spokesman Ricardo Mene´ndez March says there was a ‘‘power imbalance’’.
‘‘Therefore any decisions on modernising our food security regime would not be made with New Zealand having an equitable voice, let alone acknowledging Te Tiriti of Waitangi and the kaitiaki rights of Ma¯ ori.’’
There are benefits in working with other countries, but New Zealand should not give away its sovereignty, Mene´ndez March says.
‘‘A starting point would be for New Zealand to have equal voting rights in decisions made under FSANZ, and for the Government to embark on its own consultation process on how we can ensure food policy honours Ma¯ ori Mana Motuhake.’’
Verrall said a review of the system was under way, and that ‘‘we’ve signalled that the importance of indigenous people’s rights and traditional knowledge of food needs to be further strengthened in both FSANZ’s operating model and the enabling legislation’’.
The writing was on the wall for Sukhi Gill, or at least on the menu of his Dunedin fish and chip shop in the late 1980s. It spelled out ‘‘rogan josh’’.
Gill introduced the Indian lamb curry on a Friday night to see how the fish and chip faithful would react.
It quickly sold out.
That popularity encouraged he and wife Joanne, who is a chef, to ‘‘take the plunge’’ and open a restaurant, Little India, in the city’s CBD in 1991. Fast-forward more than three decades and that name now features across 11 restaurants nationwide.
Gill and his young family came from the UK to Dunedin in 1986, but the trained accountant soon eyed-up a career change.
‘‘As a good Indian, I suppose, I bought a dairy and a takeaway.’’
Opening an Indian restaurant was still something of a novelty in the southern city, but Gill used recipes from his mother Premjit Kaur Gill, who ‘‘is a famous cook in our family’’.
The 90-year-old, who lives in Chandigarh, India, was the mastermind behind the restaurant spices and dishes, and continues to train the company’s head chefs.
The restaurant’s success grew partly because of Dunedin students, who quickly developed a taste for Indian food, and enjoyed the BYO beers or wine ‘‘because of their tight budgets’’.
‘‘We still have those customers... and their kids come to us.’’
Although Gill says he’s served Indian food to some famous people, including the Dalai Lama and Cat Stevens, ‘‘it was local Kiwis who supported us’’.
The restaurants include two in Auckland, two in Hamilton, three in Christchurch, and one each in Palmerston North, Nelson, Timaru and Dunedin.
Gill said the same dishes that were popular three decades ago remained the same today: rogan josh, butter chicken, chicken tikka masala and palak paneer.
The business is now managed by his son Arjun Gill, 36, who started as a dishwasher and would later have to wear a tie when he sat in his father’s office.
Those early days were a family affair, and included a memorable moment when one of the sisters was fired by their mother, and later rehired by their father.
A few years ago, the business changed to a franchise model, with the individual managers financed into buying the restaurants which ‘‘gave them a step-up into the future’’.
Covid-19 presented a few difficulties, including staff still being in India and a few restaurants having to reduce trading to six days a week.
But the secret to the business’s longevity had remained the same: ‘‘To do the basics right,’’ Arjun Gill said.
That included adhering to those traditional recipes from his grandmother, and using a tandoor oven fired by charcoal and not by gas.
Restaurant Association chief executive Marisa Bidois paid tribute to the Gill family, for surviving and thriving in an industry where most businesses have a life span of three years.
‘‘So to get to this landmark is really testament to the combination of their passion and solid business sense which are essential components of longevity in the hospitality industry.’’