Taking the Road Less Traveled in New Zealand

When I’m hungry, I get a little grumpy.
And when I’m hungry and lost, I get really grumpy.
This was the case during a recent trip to New Zealand. After a day of sea kayaking, my partner Neil and I were starving. The only problem? We were lost, and there was not a single thing to eat, unless you counted the one roadside stand serving what seemed to be New Zealand’s main food group: the meat pie. (Kiwis love their meat pies.)
Fearing the wrath of Hungry Susan, my partner, Neil, sped through the winding roads like a Formula 1 racer in search of something —anything! — we could eat.
“Oh!” Neil gasped as he slammed on the brakes, “There!”
On the side of the road was a blackboard with two words barely decipherable in faded pink chalk:
PIZZA. WINE.
Really, did anything else need to be said? Neil steered our car down the dirt road, kicking up rocks everwhere. Then, like a mirage, the dust parted and we saw this:

Purangi Winery is a tiny winery near Hahei Beach, on the northeast shore of New Zealand’s North Island. Compared to the majority of wineries, with their polished brass bars and perfectly-groomed vineyards, Purangi is … well, let’s just say they really put the “shabby” in “shabby chic.”

As it turns out, though, what Purangi lacked in air conditioning, it made up for in hospitality. As soon as we walked through the door, we were welcomed by a man with a motormouth and the kind of frenetic energy that comes with the realization that you have a guest — you actually, finally, have a guest!
Within minutes, the pizza was ordered, the wine was flowing, and our new friend excitedely jumped up and insisted we follow him to the back room: “Come on! I have something you don’t have in the States!”
Neil and I looked at each other with a shrug.
What the hell? I conveyed with a glare.
Might as well, he grinned.
“You ever have Feijoa?”
“Fey-what?”
“Feijoa.” He placed a small green fruit on a cutting board in front of him. He animatedly gave us a full history of this tiny fruit, a garden staple in New Zealand.

It was delicious — crisp and wonderful, a cross between a green apple and a pineapple, with the interior texture of a cucumber. The freshness was unlike anything else I had ever tasted, and the new flavor made me smile.
“They’re not in season for another few weeks,” he whispered dramatically, “but I have a few early crops, and knew you guys had to try them. You can’t get them anywhere else in New Zealand right now!”
A bell rang — our pizza was ready.
“Go outside,” he gasped, waving us away, “Sit under the kiwi vines! I’ll bring the pizza out to you.”

In the first moment since we arrived at the whirling dervish of Purangi Winery, there was silence. Neil and I shared another look — this time, followed by a laugh. Neil reached over and squeezed my hand:
“We should definitely get lost more.”
“Definitely.”

Have your navigational woes ever led you to a cool culinary experience? Tell me about it! —Susan