New Zealand Home Loans, owned by Kiwibank’s parent company, erected billboards in public parks across Auckland without council permission.

“Did someone say party?” read the new billboards which have popped up in public parks and reserves in Auckland. They’re installed in areas reserved for election hoardings, and look much like the parties’ efforts, with a large photo of a man in a brown suit and a T-Shirt emblazoned with the block letters “FUN”. 

But on closer inspection, the ads aren’t for any registered political party, but promote home loans. “Have a mortgage & a life with NZHL” reads the tagline at the bottom. 

The fake election billboards are part of an advertising campaign by mortgage and insurance advisory firm New Zealand Home Loans (NZHL), which is wholly owned by government-run Kiwi Group Capital, the parent company of Kiwibank. 

Kiwibank has drawn international attention in recent weeks for issuing takedown notices to some social media users who joked about how attractive they found its sheep mascot, Buck. After installing these faux-election signs, Kiwi Group Capital’s home loan company could soon be receiving a takedown notice of its own. 

NZHL’s campaign centres around a character who personifies “fun”. Auckland Council, however, doesn’t think it’s so funny. “The council has not given approval for their display at any of the reported locations,” Auckland Council compliance officer James Watson told The Spinoff. 

“The signs appear to be commercial advertising erected in council-controlled public places and are being assessed for compliance.”

“We have made contact with NZHL and will continue our communication with them to ensure compliance. Any further action will be determined following our site visit and assessment of the signs.”

Janelle Ericksen, NZHL’s head of marketing contradicted this, saying the company has “not been contacted directly by Auckland Council” but confirmed that “NZHL did not pay any permit fees or seek permission from Auckland Council for these sites".

“NZHL is not a political party. The billboards use a play on the word "party" and form part of a wider marketing campaign,” Ericksen said. 

Auckland Council bylaws allow candidates and parties to erect hoardings in 278 council-owned locations across the city during the nine-week election period, but this permission does not extend to private businesses advertising financial products. Commercial advertising is generally banned in all public parks.

If the signs are found to breach the council’s Signs Bylaw, Auckland Council can remove them at the owner’s expense and prosecute, with fines of up to $20,000. 

The top 10 sales lists recorded every week at Unity Books’ stores in High St, Auckland, and Willis St, Wellington.

AUCKLAND

1 Nothing But the Truth by Stuart Grieve KC (Allen & Unwin, $45) 

"New Zealand's courtrooms have seen few figures as formidable – or as enduring – as Stuart Grieve KC," says the publisher's blurb. "Over five decades of criminal law and trial advocacy, Stuart has had a front-row seat for the cases that have gripped the nation: the notorious Peter Plumley-Walker murder trials, the Springbok Tour clowns case, the Gisborne Cervical Cancer Inquiry and the Erebus Royal Commission among them. He has prosecuted perpetrators of sexual assault and domestic violence, and acted as a special advocate for Ahmed Zaoui and Kim Dotcom.

But the stories Stuart tells in Nothing But the Truth are bigger than any single verdict. Spanning decades of social and cultural change, this is as much a history of New Zealand as it is an analysis of the law: examining how our legal system has evolved alongside shifting public attitudes and identifying where it still has some way to go."

2 Dirty Work: The Taxpayers’ Union and New Zealand’s Hard Right by Nicky Hager (Potton & Burton, $35)

Queenstown Writers Festival has just announced a new event with Hager on 7 November. Roll up for your tickets, here.

3 The Starving Bride by Catherine Chidgey (Te Herenga Waka Press, $38) 

"[The Starving Bride] really happened, and it was huge in Blackpool in the 1930s. The starving bride appeared in a glass casket along the Golden Mile. She was quite scandalous. But she was making a lot of money, and the sideshow folk absolutely wanted to keep the show going. The story was that she was just an everyday girl plucked from the streets and she wanted to raise money to set her and her groom up for their married life. And the monetary reward was substantial; it was enough to buy a small house at the time." Read more about the inspirations behind Chidgey's latest best-selling novel right here on The Spinoff.

4 Partita by Barbara Kingsolver (Faber & Faber, $38) 

"Brilliant, affecting work from one of contemporary literature’s masters." Read the rest of this review over on Kirkus.

5 The Disappearers by Marlon James (Hamish Hamilton, $38)

A masterpiece and a hot contender for this year's Booker Prize.

6 End Times Fascism: And the Fight for the Living World by Astra Taylor & Naomi Klein (Allen Lane, $40)

How to break the "doom loop" before we're loopy with doom.

7 Cape to Bluff Volume 2 by Simon Devitt (Self-Published, $99)

Aspirational homes photographed.

8 May We Feed the King by Rebecca Perry (Granta, $35) 

This year's Booker Prize wildcard. Read all about it on the Booker website, here.

9 Fruit Fly by Josh Silver (Oneworld, $37)

Auckland is reading up ahead of Josh's Wellington event next week.

10 Farewell to Eden by Sebastian Faulks (Penguin Random House, $38)

Another flawless epic from Faulks. Here's the blurb: "Philip Deval, a soldier recently returned from the beaches of Normandy, arrives in Palestine on a peace-keeping mission in the final days of the British Mandate. The Sea of Galilee glitters in the distance as war-weary troops marvel at the novelty of oranges and sun – a paradise that belies a fierce new conflict about to erupt.

Some years later, Philip begins work teaching at a school in the English countryside and meets the enigmatic music mistress, Frances Darwood. Over long evenings spent listening to records in her music room, they grow close. But Philip is a changed man, and must confront the secrets and scars of all he has lived through - which threaten, even now, to upend his future."

WELLINGTON

1 Dirty Work: The Taxpayers’ Union and New Zealand’s Hard Right by Nicky Hager (Potton & Burton, $35)

2 The Starving Bride by Catherine Chidgey (Te Herenga Waka Press, $38) 

3 Partita by Barbara Kingsolver (Faber & Faber, $38) 

4 In the Room: An Insider's Account of the Jacinda Ardern Government by Andrew Campbell ($38, Allen & Unwin)

The Spinoff's Toby Manhire had a fascinating conversation with Campbell which you can read about here and listen to / watch here:

5 Cost of Living: Union Politics & Economic Crisis in New Zealand 1975-87 by Ross Webb ($50, Otago University Press)

"The Cost of Living is an authoritative account of the rise and fall of New Zealand’s largest union body, the Federation of Labour (FOL), during perhaps the most turbulent era in our modern history."

6 End Times Fascism: And the Fight for the Living World by Astra Taylor & Naomi Klein (Allen Lane, $40)

7 The Valley: Crime & Punishment in a New Zealand City by Asher Emanuel (Bridget Williams Books, $40)

Asher Emanuel's deeply human-centred look at experiences of the justice system is still selling in Wellington.

8 Exit Party by Emily St. John Mandel (Picador, $38) 

"This is a peaceful dystopia, its glittering streetscapes and self-styled progressivism more reminiscent of Huxley’s Brave New World than Orwell’s concrete-and-jackboots Nineteen Eighty-Four," writes Nina Allan in The Guardian. "It is an eerie place, nonetheless. “I studied History before I came to Service,” Ibari says when asked why she decided to serve the lawmakers. “It made me terrified of discord.” While Ibari – reticent, calculating, a loyal arm of Service – might seem to be the polar opposite of the fiercely driven, anarchic Ari, the two women ultimately prove themselves capable of similar acts of recklessness and similar loyalty."

9 Sovereignty by Claire Charters ($20, Bridget Williams Books)

One of the latest in BWB's illuminating Texts series. Here's the blurb: "The idea that New Zealand’s constitution protects the rights of everyone is a fairytale, says legal scholar Claire Charters (Ngāti Whakaue, Tainui, Tūwharetoa, Ngāpuhi).

The Crown’s claim to sovereignty, Charters argues, met none of the legal tests that applied in 1840 under tikanga Māori, British law or international law. An illegal claim has produced an illegitimate state, and a constitution in which Parliament, the executive and the courts can each override Māori rights. Sovereignty makes the case for constitutional transformation, and sets out what it could look like."

10 That Woman: A Memoir by Silvia Cartwright ($50, Allen & Unwin)

Read an excerpt from this candid, funny and fascinating memoir here on The Spinoff.

As Celebrity Traitors UK returns for more murder and mayhem, we dare to dream: which famous New Zealanders would make the line-up for a homegrown celebrity season?

The Celebrity Traitors UK is back, and all is right with the world. We’re only four episodes in to the second season of the twisted parlour game featuring some of Britain’s most recognisable faces, but the intrigue has already been murderously good: one traitor accidentally revealed their identity just moments into the game, reluctant faithfuls were recruited to become traitors, and James Blunt wore a fighter pilot suit to get buried alive. UK viewers have hoovered up the show’s return, with a record-breaking nine million people watching episode one.

The success of Celebrity Traitors UK is mostly down to the calibre of the cast. Both seasons so far have attracted an impressive line-up of established and well-respected actors, academics, broadcasters and comedians, from Stephen Fry to Richard E Grant, Bella Ramsey to Paloma Faith. Unlike many other reality shows, these players aren’t trying to revive their careers. They’re already genuinely famous people who come on The Traitors purely for the love of the game, to gleefully enjoy some psychological manipulation and indulge in “killing” their celebrity mates.

It makes you think: why can’t we do the same thing here? Sure, season one of The Traitors NZ featured an allsorts mix of celebrity and civilian players, but what would New Zealand’s dream celebrity-only cast look like? Who among our local stars would thrive in a world of lies and intrigue, and which famous faces would be frothing to deceive and kill on the telly? Here’s a few local celebs who deserve a seat at our dream Celebrity Traitors NZ round table.  

Kim Hill

The former RNZ broadcaster would be terrifyingly brilliant in the Traitors mansion. Faithfuls would crumble at the slightest hint of an interrogation, traitors would self-combust the moment she stared into their duplicitous souls. Forget Nine to Noon, imagine the chats at breakfast. Sadly, Hill would probably be banished first because celebrities are also big scaredy cats, but I want to see Kim Hill fart in a shed, goddammit. 

David Lomas

TV presenter and mystery solver David Lomas has built a career out of squeezing the truth out of strangers. If he doesn’t work out who the traitors are in the first five minutes, then we should all lower ourselves into the nearest coffin and scream “haggis” like we’re a Texan model who used to be married to Rupert Murdoch. Don’t make me cry about it, David Lomas.  

Hera Lindsay Bird

If you’ve ever read Hera’s weekly advice column on The Spinoff, you’ll know that the award-winning poet is an astute and compassionate observer of the human condition, and she always has the perfect advice for every tortured situation. This means that she could murder you in plain sight while simultaneously reassuring you that the universe does not have it in for you, and she’d be so nice about it that you probably wouldn’t even mind.  

Chris Warner

Apparently Chris Warner is a fictional TV character played by an actor named Michael Galvin, but believe what you like. Either way, Dr Love has spent 34 years hornbagging his way around Shortland Street, so it’s time he enjoyed a relaxing killer holiday in a gothic mansion somewhere near Tīmaru. Galvin once told The Spinoff that his infamous “please tell me that is not your penis” line of dialogue will probably end up on his gravestone. Did he mean a Traitors gravestone? Makes you think. 

Lorde

Put our Lorde in the Traitors church, ASAP. 

Lynda Topp

After Lynda Topp appeared on Guy Mont Spelling Bee earlier this year, The Spinoff lobbied for her to appear on every unscripted TV show – and the sooner the next government fast tracks this into law, the better. “Every now and then someone comes along and rips straight through the very fabric of even the loosest of comedy panel shows, opening up a portal to a whole new dimension of laughs and a previously unplumbed depth of absurdity,” Alex Casey wrote. iI there’s one thing that a TV show about a pretend celebrity murder spree needs, it’s more absurdity.  

Suzy Cato

I cannot wait to see the sweet and unassuming children’s television presenter unleash the killer instinct that surely hides deep within. Let our beloved Cato loose in the Traitors conclave and watch her ruthlessly murder in plain sight, all night, every night. See ya, see ya later, indeed. 

Anyone from The Chase

After being so obsessed with the British quiz show for millions of years, the six geniuses on The Chase have had so much love from New Zealand that they’re basically honorary citizens and are probably building a six-bedroom apocalyptic bunker near Queenstown as we speak. It doesn’t even matter which one turns up to the Traitors mansion, as long as the Chaser is eventually caught. 

Dame Susan Devoy

We tried to avoid choosing New Zealanders who had already starred on Celebrity Treasure Island, but we’re making an exception for Suzy D. Her straight-talking, no bullshit approach would be perfect on a show based on deception and mistrust. Remember when she broke out in hives on CTI and claimed it was because she was “allergic to liars”? Bust out the Savlon, the game’s a good one. 

David Correos

Comedian Correos brought some delightfully unhinged energy to season two of Taskmaster NZ, even threatening to drown his competitors in their own blood. Fun! Everything is fine, bring on the chaos agent. 

The dog from Heart of the Beast

The entire New Zealand bush was unavailable for Celebrity Traitors NZ, so we chose the next best thing: Uber, the dog who outshined Brad Pitt in the locally-filmed adventure movie Heart of the Beast. “He is quick-footed, knows his lines and has a huge range of emotions,” The Spinoff’s resident Uber expert Chris Schulz says. “The only problem I foresee is that his allegiance could be easily swayed with treats. As long as beef liver snaps are banned from the set, I can see Uber going all the way.”

Who else would you like to see at a Celebrity Traitors NZ roundtable? Make your case in the comments!

Celebrity Traitors UK streams on ThreeNow and screens on Three on Sundays and Mondays at 7.30pm.

Second bills from the water agency will be sent to Wellington, Lower and Upper Hutt and Porirua residents and businesses from late October.

More than 30,000 people across the Wellington region have not paid their first Tiaki Wai bill, with the second round due to arrive soon.

Second bills from the water agency will be sent to Wellington, Lower and Upper Hutt and Porirua residents and businesses from late October.

They come as debate ramps up over whether Tiaki Wai's prices should be capped, and as Wellingtonians stare down a future of price increases which a budget advisor says is causing people in the community deep stress.

Numbers revealed to RNZ show 30,116 residential and commercial customers haven't paid bills for the first quarter yet - 18.5 percent of all accounts.

It shows $21 million in total invoiced bills for the first quarter has not yet been paid.

Chief executive Michael Brewster said Tiaki Wai had received $89.5m of the $110.5m it had invoiced. An extra $3.6m had been paid by people ahead of new bills coming.

Payments had been received from 82.2 percent of residential accounts, 71.2 percent of business accounts, and 76.4 percent of non-profit, community and government organisations, he said.

Brewster said the agency wasn't imposing fines yet on people who hadn't paid, though it was vital the company collected the money needed to fix ageing water networks.

In a briefing to city councillors this week, Tiaki Wai board chair Will Peet said there had been some initial "teething issues" for payments which he expected to settle in time, and those struggling could access the agency's hardship policy.

"Our message to anybody is that if you can't pay, if you've got issues, the sooner you get in touch with us the better we will be able to do that."

In a written response to RNZ, Tiaki Wai said nearly 500 customers spoke to the agency about financial hardship, and nearly 50 customers owing nearly $45,000 collectively had formally entered hardship arrangements.

Tiaki Wai said it did not know how many people were simply refusing to pay their bill in the future.

In comparison, Wellington City Council said it had collected about 95 percent of its rates over the same period – with around $10m outstanding.

Wellingtonian's water bills under Tiaki Wai are increasing by about 13.3 percent this year, in an average total annual bill of $2390.

Forecasts of bills reaching over $6000 per year in a decade has shocked some residents, prompting backlash and protests against the agency in August.

Peet said warned there would be consequences if people were opting out in protest.

"There is a very small group of people who have decided they don't want to pay, I can't see cutting people off as a viable thing.

"Debt collection is probably the next... that would be the step."

On Friday Tiaki Wai made a statement to RNZ saying "no penalties will be applied to late payment of water charges for an initial period, and no one's water will be turned off because they have not paid their bill. On a case-by-case basis, it might ultimately need to refer unpaid water charges to a debt collector."

Christine Tawhara, a budget advisor in Canon's Creek, said the threat of rising bills was worrying renters coming into the Porirua Whānau Centre.

"Their landlords are looking at a rent increase and that will be to cover the water rates, and the tenant knows that.

"It's real hard for them because then they're going to have to chop back on something if there's a rent increase ... and it's always food, it's always food they chop back on."

Tawhara said the pensioners she was seeing could pay this year's increase, but were stressed about the severity of future bills.

They were currently already avoiding repairs on their house to keep bills down, Tawhara said.

Commerce Commission chairperson John Small told Nine to Noon on Thursday Tiaki Wai's costs – including the debt it had inherited, and the extent of faulty infrastructure it needed to fix – far exceeded the money it currently collected from Wellingtonians.

He was asked whether the company was "technically insolvent".

"I wouldn't say that no, but I do know the directors had that issue in mind before the company was constituted on the 1st of July," Small replied.

"It's ultimately their job to maintain a solvent enterprise."

Small said the commission was imposing extra performance rules to monitor Tiaki Wai was making progress on its plans to upgrade or fix infrastructure.

But he said it would not cap bills right now.

"Right or wrong, affordability is not something that is within our mandate. What our mandate is, is to make sure that the assets are being managed properly and that prices are not out of line with costs."

Wellington mayor Andrew Little said the pressure would now increase on the government to fix its local water done well policy as other regions start to receive their own "extraordinary" price rise projections.

Local government minister Simon Watts recently told RNZ the government had imposed the stronger oversight by the Commerce Commission, giving ratepayers a better picture of performance and applying independent scrutiny.

"Wellington's water infrastructure problems are well known and have built up over decades, and while local Water Done Well has increased the long term financial stability of Wellington's water, the position they've started from has meant the overall costs Wellington ratepayers face have been higher than many other entities stood up through the scheme, some of which have actually reduced expected water charges from what they predicted last year."

He said it was not National Party policy to contribute Crown funding to Wellington's water infrastructure.

In today’s excerpt from The Bulletin: New details from the Transport Accident Investigation Commission’s interim report into June’s Khandallah train crash.

Controllers at Hutt Valley train control had no idea a train with six injured people aboard was crumpled against a concrete block until the phone rang, The Post’s Tom Hunt reports. Passengers and nearby residents alerted emergency services, who then notified train control – the first the controllers knew of the collision.

The incident began on an earlier trip north. As the two-car Matangi train left Wellington for Johnsonville at 6.32pm, the system registered a “dropped track” near Khandallah, treating the section as occupied by more than one train. No other train was in the vicinity. This generated an error message on the train controller’s screen – a visual warning only, with no audible alarm. It remained visible for 25 seconds and disappeared when the train entered Khandallah station.

But the system continued to register the track south of the station as occupied. As the train departed south just before 7pm, the signal ahead remained red and the track had been set to divert it onto a runaway line. The train passed the red signal and emergency brakes activated. Two seconds later, it passed a fixed stop designed to automatically apply the brakes – but the trip lever failed to engage, 1News reports. Another two seconds later it lost power, and immediately struck a concrete stop block at 33km/h. Both crew members were hospitalised and four of the eight passengers suffered minor injuries.

What happened to the safety system?

The crash has renewed scrutiny on Wellington’s ageing signalling system. Regional council chairperson Daran Ponter has described the system as the “nerve system of a railway” and said it was not a question of whether an upgrade should be paid for by the Government but how much it should spend, RNZ reports. The cost of getting Wellington up to Auckland and European standards was estimated between $500 million and $750m, according to The Post.

Transdev managing director Tonia Haskell accepted the facts in the interim report. “Since the incident, we have implemented additional controls and assurances to further strengthen operational safety. The safety of our people and passengers remains our highest priority,” Haskell said, according to The Post.

Political reaction

The crash has, of course, become an election issue. Wellington Central MP Tamatha Paul called out a lack of government investment in the signalling system during a recent Wellington North debate. Regional council chairperson Daran Ponter has described the system as the “nerve system of a railway,” saying it was not a question of whether an upgrade should be paid for by the Government but how much it should spend, The Post reports.

KiwiRail chief metro officer Bevan Assink said detailed comment had to wait until full investigations. Signal faults happened and when they did they defaulted to safety – automatically stopping train movements, he said.

We tried six standard tubs from the local chiller aisle.

The dizzying number of hummus varieties at New Zealand supermarkets – 34!!! – is enough to make you choke on some dukkah sprinkles. They’re all made by six brands: Lisa’s, Greater Hummus, Obela, Woolworths, Pams and Turkish Kitchen (variety dwindled further after Just Hummus was discontinued by Heinz Wattie). For the sake of brevity and not forcing Spinoff staffers to eat three dozen flavours in one afternoon, this ranking is limited to “original” varieties. 

Hummus is officially a supermarket staple, monitored by the Statistics New Zealand’s Consumers Price Index since 2008. Woolworths estimates its supermarkets started stocking hummus 30 years ago and specialty stores have sold it since the 1980s. The country’s palates diversified and hummus benefited.

The dish is a fixture of Middle Eastern cuisines. What we call hummus/hommus/houmus is more accurately called hummus bi tahini, Arabic for chickpeas with tahini – they’re the critical ingredients, alongside lemon, garlic, olive oil and salt.

In Lebanon, hummus isn’t just a dip, but a dish in its own right, explains Samir Allen, owner of Auckland restaurant Gemmayze Street. His award-winning hummus is thick, velvety smooth and takes three days to make. Hummus eaters outside the Arab world often have the wrong textural expectations, says Allen. “Hummus isn’t supposed to be chunky or runny. Traditionally, it should be really smooth and creamy.”

Flavour is just as important, with a good balance between the nuttiness of the tahini and the acidity of the lemon. “Neither should overpower the other.” Allen says most of what’s sold at supermarkets is “vastly different” from traditional Lebanese hummus. “A lot of the hummus that Kiwis are familiar with doesn’t have enough tahini or lemon and is far too chunky to be considered authentic.”

There’s no definition of hummus in the Australasian Food Standards Code. The supermarket varieties in our trial all contain chickpeas (some more than others), oil, tahini, lemon (though one brand omits this), garlic and salt. It sounds simple, but products vary widely, as we discovered.

We assembled 12 Spinoff staffers for our ranking, who tried six hummus varieties on pita (to assess form and stickability) and spoons in a blind test, rating each out of 10, then averaged out to reach the final scores.

6) Lisa’s Original Hummus With Lemon & Garlic

$4.49 for 200g from Woolworths ($2.25 per 100g)

5.5/10

It’s New Zealand for hummus, or so the ads said. Lisa’s Hummus hit shelves in the 1990s amid a burgeoning health food movement and founder Lisa Er (whose husband came from Türkiye) was clearly onto something. Her company, Lisa’s Middle Eastern Foods, was making $6m a year when it sold to Sanitarium in 2002. Two decades on, how does it hold up?

Although many of our Spinoffers buy Lisa’s, it performed poorly. “Solid but unremarkable,” said Henry, who noted some textural shortcomings. “Gritty, verging on watery.” I found it lumpy in a way that felt unfinished, like the blitzing was only half completed.

Other testers were merely whelmed. “Kind of nothing sauce,” judged Sophie Albornett, who found it fairly inoffensive and “fine”. Perhaps it just needs more of “something?” wondered Chris Schulz. “Anything?” There was a shred of redemption delivered by Hayden Donnell, who commended this hummus for its heavy garlic quotient. “Very tasty and moreish up front.” 

5) Greater! Hummus Roasted Garlic

$6.99 for 500g from Pak’nSave ($1.40 per 100g)

5.8/10

Greater! Hummus is also produced by Sanitarium, which is a (tax-exempt, Seventh Day Adventist-owned) registered charity. It would be charitable to call this a “good, solid, reliable, 9-5 hummus”, as Joel MacManus did. Although this contained the fewest kilojoules per 100g compared to others in our lineup, it did have the most carbs – over double Turkish Kitchen and Obela. Not privy to that detail, Sophie was nonetheless confused. “I feel personally at odds with it in a way I don’t understand.”

Although described by our testers as “watery” and “ugly” with an “odd” consistency, Ben Fagan was more kind, calling Greater! “friendly and relaxed”. Lyric Waiwiri-Smith went a step further, complimenting the “great gloop” with a “wow factor”. It is well seasoned, with a “nice topline” of garlic and lemon, as Henry Oliver observed. But how much is too much? Gemma Spring wouldn’t recommend this “garlic bomb” for a date-night snack.

4) Obela Classic Hommus

$5.39 for 220g from Woolworths ($2.45 per 100g)

6.2/10

This one’s pretty heavy on the tahini – “too much”, according to Sophie – which accounts for 13% of the hummus. It’s notably smooth, something Hayden liked (he told us so, repeatedly) and found “texturally appealing”. For others, it was perhaps too much, with Henry remarking on a “slight gumminess”. This hummus was thick to the point of gluggy, and it created a “paste-like film” in Gemma’s mouth. Chris hated the “horrible” aftertaste and gave Obela 3/10. Joel, reminded of “porridge that’s been left out too long”, awarded it a lowly 2.

Disconcertingly for something that calls itself hummus, a critical ingredient appears to be missing: there’s no lemon listed, only citric acid. It’s also the only one of our hummuses not to be produced locally, being made in Australia.

Obela is a global brand bought by PespiCo after which was subject to protest action in 2024 as a primary target for the global BDS (boycott, divest, sanction) movement. In November 2024, Obela was bought out by PepsiCo, and while activists declared the divestment a success, it still encourages consumers to avoid the products.

3) Pams Original Hummus

$3.49 for 200g from New World ($1.75 per 100g)

6.3/10

Ah Pams, so classic yet still with surprises up her sleeve. This lemon-forward hummus turned out to be the most tart of all. “Too acidy for moi,” judged Cal. 

Other testers were more judgemental, criticising this for being “cheap”, “inconsistent” and overly watery. “The loose stool of the hummus world,” ventured Hayden, frowning gloomily as he gave this a 4/10. “Hate the look.” So did Lyric, who likened it to “beer vomit”. But as Oscar Wilde said – surely inspired by supermarket condiments – the only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about. This hummus is “forgettable”, ruled Joel, giving it a 3/10. “Jog on.” 

Screw the haters! As Pams’ average score suggests, plenty of testers were pleased. “I like this a lot,” said Chris. “It’s basic but moreish.” Texture “isn’t a dealbreaker” for Sophie, who was wowed by the “kapow” of the garlic.

2) Woolworths Hummus Original Garlic And Lemon

$3.49 for 200g from Woolworths ($1.75 per 100g)

6.6/10

Woolworths own-brand hummus looks basic and is. Judging only on taste (very chickpea-y) and texture (rather watery), our team were disappointed by the consistency and “boring” flavour. “It’s not knocking my socks off,” remarked Alice Neville. 

Chris, however, still wearing his socks, was impressed and commended this hummus for its “touch of tang” and “good texture”. Sophie suggested it had a certain “je ne sais quoi” that others lacked. Alas it stirred no foreign tongue nor excitement for Hayden, who declared this hummus “spiritually bereft”. Bereft or not, this serviceable hummus managed to scrape into the top two due to its inoffensive qualities – suggesting centrism still has some life in it yet.

1) Turkish Kitchen Traditional Hummus With Roasted Garlic

$4.39 for 200g from New World ($2.20 per 100g)

7.5/10

The top of the pack and rightly so! This is the most authentic-tasting hummus of the lot. It’s the only one with olive oil as a listed ingredient – it also has the highest calories, nearly twice Lisa’s, and fat content, but lowest percentage of chickpeas. Turkish Kitchen is produced by local company Brelita Foods, which has a factory in Auckland’s Mount Roskill. 

Their hummus was so popular with our testers that the bowl was scraped clean. They were impressed by the flavour and texture, which Hayden described as “interesting” and “lovely”. Lyric and I both gave this a 9/10. Sophie was impressed too: “well balanced” and “smooth”, she judged, guessing correctly that this was “the purple lid one”. Tina Tiller was bowled over. “YUMBOS!” she wrote, next to a big 10/10.

In the third of The Spinoff’s leader profiles for the 2026 election, Toby Manhire meets the great survivor of New Zealand politics to talk about the campaign today and the moment 48 years ago that ‘cost me psychologically’.

For longer than many of us can remember, it’s been Winston Peters’ last election. Ruled out, aged out, washed up – the political obituaries have had to be shredded over and over again. Fifty-one years ago he first stood for the National Party in Northern Māori, knowing he would lose. In 2026, his New Zealand First Party sits on the brink of something new: going from a place in government to sailing back into parliament above the 5% threshold.

That might be why Peters has so far seemed chipper in this campaign. The polls are “trash”, he says – they don’t do their own polling, he told me, but the mood in the halls around the country tells him that the even the 12% NZ First has recently registered understates their support – but that’s a hell of a lot better than the numbers of many campaigns, 2023 included. 

It’s been an uneven campaign. In the TVNZ debate, especially, he looked sort of lost. But when Peters came into The Spinoff studio, a few days after a very Winstonian series of North Shore walkabouts, he was in excellent spirits. Puckish, almost. He beamed a cheerful hello to the room, and engaged in friendly conversation with Albert, The Spinoff’s loyal English Staffordshire terrier.

Last year, Peters had declined repeated approaches for an interview for the second season of Juggernaut, The Spinoff podcast which told the story of the fourth National government and the dawn of MMP – a story in which he is a central and crucial character. People who know him have told me he’s reluctant to take part in anything that might be construed as a valedictory. After all, at 81, he’s in his prime. 

But Peters could hardly have been more willing to travel back in time when we spoke. What kind of campaign was it so far? “Perverse,” he said. “We’ve got a debate going on where one side is promising to spend money like there's no tomorrow, with no explanation as to where they're going to get it from, and the other side is talking about taxation non-stop. One party, the party that I belong to, is talking about what we need to do.” And what we need to do, he said, is reverse a rot that began in the 80s, with the installation of the Lange-Douglas government. “For four decades, we’ve failed to perform,” he said. “We had a neoliberal experiment in 1984… They got in on election night, threw their manifesto in a rubbish bin, and pulled out their secret agenda called Rogernomics, and the rest is history.”

Surely, though, the Rob Muldoon regime, the “Polish shipyard”, as David Lange put it, with its wage freeze and price freeze, wasn’t sustainable? 

“No, of course it wasn't sustainable,” he said. The error had been in failing to adapt when Britain entered the European market a decade earlier. “Instead of getting offshore and going hell for leather to build our exports, we decided that we'd sort of retrench somehow, and then we could handle it from home.”

Such folly remains live today, he said, pointing to the National Party commitment to cutting the budget of Foreign Affairs, the ministry around which Peters as minister has jealously erected a steel belt. “Haven’t they ever learned,” he said, before launching into one of five acclamations of Lee Kuan Yew, the founding prime minister of Singapore.

The answer to New Zealand’s problems is straightforward, said Peters: we just need to double the size of the economy. He’s a fan of John Maynard Keynes – and says David Seymour has misread Adam Smith – but he eschews pesky things like the fiscal plans that other parties publish. He wants to buy back the BNZ (to heal another wound of the 90s), to spend heavily on infrastructure, to invest heavily in New Zealand representation around the world. 

That all costs a lot of money. Does that mean borrowing? “Borrowing on the best terms you can.” How much? “Well, it’s not the amount you're borrowing; it's what you're spending it on.”

Winston Peters was born in the final breath of the second world war, the sixth child of 11. Māori dad, Scottish mum, farming up north, the last place to find out the Great Depression was over. He had direct experience, he’d later say, of what poverty tastes, smells and feels like. 

Winston was named in tribute to the great wartime leader, and whether by inspiration or accident, inherited Churchill’s embrace of oratory. You might even say he embodied it: a riddle, wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma. Someone who lives for the rhetorical combat of the debating chamber or the courtroom, but avoids conflict in his personal life. A venerated statesman who trumpets international relationships while snubbing multilateral accords to score culture-war points at home. Someone who can say the most acerbic, inflammatory things, yet melt a room with a grin that could power the national grid. 

Across this campaign Peters has repeatedly emphasised his experience. On that metric, he has no rival: here is a near-permanent part of the political furniture for half a century. He’s been a minister in Bolger’s National government, treasurer (a role contrived for him specifically), foreign minister, deputy prime minister, even acting prime minister to cover Jacinda Ardern’s maternity leave. 

Andrew Campbell, former chief press secretary to Jacinda Ardern, says Peters is like a cat. “I quite like him, which is sort of a weird thing to say,” Campbell told me last week. Weird, he means, given how venomous Peters has been about the Ardern years since 2020. But why a cat? “You can just be playing with it and patting it, and then it just bites you for kind of no reason."

Peters went to parliament in 1979, as MP for Hunua, but only after a legal challenge to unseat Malcolm Douglas, younger brother of Roger, who had won on the night the year before. It was the first of countless battles Peters would contest in the courts as a politician. 

By 1988, Peters had climbed to the top of preferred prime minister polls, powered by vocal opposition to Rogernomics. Even before the 1990 election, Peters, by then National MP for Tauranga, had been an open critic of his own party’s economic policy. “Nobody's ever gagged me and ever will in this business,” he said.

Much of the Peters playbook was already in practice. Railing against the media. Deploring abandonment to the market economy. Decrying “separatism”. Playing to fears around immigration. Prodding the populist nerves. 

Peters’ rise in the public spotlight was plotted in part by an ambitious young staffer, Michael Laws. He would later write of their first encounter: “I remember walking into a dense blue haze and wondering if the sofa cushions were on fire. Instead I had just been introduced to the omnipresent calling card of my new boss. Winston did not just smoke – his lungs smouldered like an underground peat blaze. These attempts at self-immolation were offset by his appearance – a relatively short man, with a dapper dress sense that always appreciated the fine line between fad and fashion.”

In an interview for Juggernaut, Laws said Peters made him an offer. “He said to me: Laws, you put me on the front page of the newspaper, or, more expressly, you put me on the TV news lead, and I’ll make you. I’ll give you a reputation, and you can go anywhere you want. So that was the devil’s deal, the Faustian bargain.” He set out to make Peters “a sensation”, a “leader of a popular emotion”. Laws recalled: “He taught me the rope-a-dope political technique of the time, which was to make a claim, make it sound outlandish, get the denial and then produce the evidence.”

In 1990, Jim Bolger appointed Peters to cabinet as minister for Māori affairs after National swept to power. When Peters was sworn in at Government House, Bolger’s lieutenant Bill Birch is said to have muttered under his breath, “too late now.”

Peters pushed back against the agenda of Ruth Richardson. He raged at Bolger’s U-turn on the superannuation surtax. He infuriated fellow ministers by going public with a blueprint for a pan-ministry Māori development project, Ka Awatea, without telling them first. Within a year of the election, Bolger had sacked him from cabinet. Peters called it “a sad day in New Zealand politics for my electorate and for the Maori people, who, last November, I was asked to serve”. 

By the end of the term, Peters had fallen out irrevocably with the National Party bosses. He stood as an independent in a Tauranga byelection. The major parties chose not to compete, and Peters won by more than 10,000 votes. Second was someone called Greg from the McGillicuddy Serious Party. 

Could Peters have gone become leader of the National Party? Had he “played his cards differently, he probably would have been”, Bolger told me in an interview for Juggernaut. “Winston could have been prime minister,” said Jenny Shipley. But, “he could never quite discipline himself”.

Instead, he founded the New Zealand First Party, in perfect timing for the advent of MMP. In 1996, they won 17 seats, including a sweep of the Māori electorates – electorates which today Peters would like to see abolished. 

Peters became the kingmaker MMP prototype in 1996. He defied predictions – and much of his own rhetoric – by going into coalition with Jim Bolger. Hadn’t he campaigned on replacing the National government? Yes, he said at the time, and he had replaced a National government. With a National-New-Zealand-First government. 

Those first MMP negotiations had seen Peters and his team barter with both National and Labour – as they would do again in 2017 – and a personal detente with Bolger, sealed by a mutual affection for single malt whisky and Bolger’s willingness to apologise for having accused Peters of fanning racist flames in the campaign. 

At another point in those 1996 negotiations, the party leaders left the room, and Doug Woolerton, the New Zealand First president, floated an idea. “Doug said, 'Look, we would like to talk about the possibility of a shared prime ministership',” Rob Eaddy, then Bolger’s chief of staff, told me last year. “He said, 'You know, in the Scandinavian-type coalition, you can have a minority party leader being prime minister, and it can be for the full term or part of the term. We think we’d like you to give some consideration to that'.”

Don McKinnon, Bolger’s deputy, was having none of it. “Yeah,” he told me. “That was beyond the boundary fence. It wasn’t going to fly.”

The same idea had “percolated from somewhere”, in negotiations that year with Labour, said Helen Clark (Peters' pick as the best prime minister of the five he's worked with). “It was in the air, but I would have had the same response as Bolger gave… Not a runner.” 

In 2026, with New Zealand First polling as high as 15% and the big party leaders struggling for popularity, could Peters make one last push for a share of the top job? The Irish, for example, are currently in the second term of a rotating taoiseach model. How about that? “No, no,” said Peters. “But, you know... the first coalition in this country was before MMP.” He’s talking about the 1931 election. Then, Labour finished first, Reform second and United third, but it was United that provided the prime minister, George Forbes, after they formed a coalition with Reform.

“You get my picture?… Forbes came in with his number two party, his was a lesser party in numbers, but he still got the prime ministership.”

So something like that, or the example we’ve seen in Scandinavia, could happen here? “Yeah, precisely,” said Peters before launching into one of his favourite bits about the big parties: “Tweedledum and Tweedledee, or Pepsi and Coke."

With such ambitions in mind, Peters has gone on a remarkable recruitment campaign in the leadup to this election – call it the Avengers or Dad’s Army, but New Zealand First in 2026 has assembled a cast of candidates so archival that it would hardly be shocking if it reached back as far as the 1930s. It hasn’t always been smooth sailing – Stuart Nash, for example – but the party list released last week included, above many of the sitting MPs, some real Travelling Wilburys. Former All Black captain Taine Randell. Former National minister Alfred Ngaro. And Michael Laws, who had become an MP for National and NZ First after working as the ferret to Peters’ Luigi.

How did the list get drawn up, I asked. Did he just write it down and hand it to an aide? “We have a most agonising experience over days,” he said. “We do it collectively.” It’s just that Laws, in his 1998 book The Demon Profession, wrote that “the entire New Zealand First organisation was the ectoplasm of Winston's personality exactly mirroring all his strengths and weaknesses”. 

“Well, that’s not right,” Peters said with a grin. “And everybody on that selection committee will tell you, I have the same say as everybody else. Why do I say that? It's because if it was my decision, you don't get any buy-in. If it's not my decision, that's why I do get buy-in. That's why these people are still here after all these years, working for the party. And this party is seriously on the rise at the right time.”

Part of the reason that New Zealand First has managed to retain support while in government is that it has spent much of the term, the second half especially, battering its own coalition partners. Peters has taken jabs at Act and Seymour. “David is trying to catch up,” he told me. “He's the most imitative politician there is. Look how many of his policies are New Zealand First steals, but he doesn't understand them.” That’s small beer, though, really – especially when you consider the depth of animus between the pair in the leadup to the last election, when, for example, Seymour told The Spinoff: ”We're not going to sit around the cabinet table with this clown”. 

The more tense and vituperative stuff has been aimed at the prime minister. In commentary on Christopher Luxon's prowess as a leader at home and abroad, Peters has evinced nothing less than contempt. After Peters’ office released materials documenting the leadup to government statements on the US attacks on Iran – materials which underlined what already looked like haplessness on Luxon’s part – the prime minister’s patience cracked. Peters, he said, had “put politics ahead of the national interest”.

When I put that to Peters, he did what he does – he hit back. “I understand international affairs. The prime minister's still in training wheels. That's what I say to that statement.” 

But it wasn’t really about their relative proficiency on geopolitics, so much as a perceived breach of trust, the fact that information had been released into the public domain. Wasn't it? Here, Peters took a different line to his remarks at the time, when he called it "a process mistake" not to have coordinated with the PM's office.

“The reason why those materials [emerged] was because the public was being misadvised as to the truth of the matter," said Peters. "And I wasn't going to stand back while the truth was somewhere else and it was in the documents.” Had it not been released, “then the public would never know.”

The issue returned to the spotlight this week, when Luxon was asked by Ryan Bridge in the second leaders' debate whether reports that "you supported the war or wanted to express more support for Trump's war" were "completely a hoax?" Luxon's response: "Absolutely." When asked whether he had ever supported the US attacks on Iran, "even a little bit at the start", he answered, "no, never."

There may be more to come. "Against the record of history coming," Peters told the Spinoff, "we'll find out who is telling the truth or not."

At the end of July, Winston Peters made headlines in New Zealand and around the world for all the wrong reasons. Angered in parliament by a provocation from Lawrence Xu-Nan about his vaccination status, Peters unleashed. “I know you just came here five minutes ago. Go back to your own country,” Peters seethed at the Green MP, who has lived in New Zealand since the 90s. “That’s where they lie like a flatfish, but they don’t lie like that here, all right? This is called democracy. This is called democracy, unlike what you’re used to.”

As soon as I raised that exchange – condemned as “racist” by both Christopher Luxon and Chris Hipkins – Peters launched into a blast at the “ignoramuses in the media and in politics”. But forget them for a minute; I read from an email – one of dozens from the New Zealand Chinese community I was copied in on at the time, ranging from disappointed to incandescent with anger. This one’s from someone called Wesley.

“Chinese communities have helped build this country for generations,” he wrote. “We raise families, pay taxes, create businesses, volunteer in our communities and contribute to New Zealand every day. We should not be treated as outsiders in our own home.”

“I say to Wesley,” said Peters, “do you know the guy that did the first deal with China, in terms of business? Do you know what his name is? Well you're talking to him right now. I'm the guy who went there in 1997 to [establish] export education for New Zealand, and there the Chinese said to me: Mr Peters, could you make me one promise? When they’re there, train them. But will you send them home? And I said: Of course, I'll make that promise, but for the time being, they'll be in the Latin term, in loco parentis. We'll look after them properly. That was my commitment, and I try to keep it, as opposed to others who have not kept the promise. That's my answer to Wesley. You need to know more Wesley. Oh, and by the way, Wesley, my people left your country 5,000 years ago. In case you didn't know.”

Peters insisted that his “flatfish” remark had been misinterpreted. “My statement about the flatfish is not what they think. In China, it’s an analogy for lying low in the sand and saying nothing about your surroundings.” He said of Xu-Nan: “He came to see me when my brother died, right? So he understands what I meant, but they [Luxon and Hipkins] don't. So all you white journalists are screaming out racism, racism, racism. Don't know what you're talking about.”

Xu Nan confirmed that he had approached Peters to offer his condolences last month. Of the flatfish semiotics, however, he told The Spinoff: “Regardless of which interpretation he feels people could choose to make, neither is good or appropriate, in the generalisation of an entire group of people.” He was confident that “we no longer live in a society where people think these divisive or racist comments are good for any of us”.

The popularity of New Zealand First can be seen as part of a global phenomenon of flourishing nationalist-populist movements. Luxon nodded at that in the first leaders' debate, shaking his head at Peters for “pretending” to be “Nigel Farage or Pauline Hanson”. He’s previously accused the New Zealand First leader of “cosplaying” the British and Australian party leaders.

When that is raised with Peters, he does not reject the comparison, so much as the chronology. “I was there in politics saying these things before anybody heard of Pauline Hanson or anybody heard of Farage. Go and look at the record. Go and look at the history. That's my answer to that. My answer is, Mr Luxon, you'll need to do more research before you make comments like that in the future.”

For Peters, the history is always present. I show him two pictures from elections 48 years apart. One is from 1978, when he’d been chosen to play the role of interviewer, asking questions of senior National figures, including Muldoon, as part of the “We’re Keeping Our Word” campaign. The other is from recent weeks. This time Peters is the interviewee, taking questions before swivelling to stare down the barrel of the camera.

What would the 2026 guy say to the equally dapper guy from 1978?

“Terrible haircut!” was Peters’ first response, quite unfairly. “It was a haircut every three months in those days.” He said: I learned a great thing on that programme. Never do that. Never front, unless you're happy. I came away from that experience, fronting the National Party's campaign, saying I'm never going to be caught out doing that again, unless I'm happy with everything. I'm not doing it.”

He continued: “I was being remodelled as not the person I was, but as somebody else. In short, I was remodelled as a reporter journalist interviewing ministers, and it cost me psychologically.” Psychologically? “I didn't believe I should have been asking those sorts of questions because they weren't true… National wasn't keeping its word. That's the point.”

It was a rare example of Peters marching to someone else’s drum. And it was a formative moment – maybe even the last of its kind. “You can marginalise, Cinderellaise, and think you can cauterise New Zealand First,” he told me at one point, playing the hits. “But it just motivates us to go harder.”

Because nobody gags Winston Peters, and they never will.

Analysis: A photoshoot with patched gang members is a spectacularly risky political move. It’s also an important reminder that not all constituents look the same.

Those images were always destined to promote a reaction. Among a group of patched gang members in their local pad, MPs from the Greens and Te Pāti Māori flashed bright smiles and upped thumbs for social media. If those pictures came with sound, you would have the rubbing together of Simeon Brown’s hands.

The shots would have resonated with some core Te Pāti Māori and Greens voters, while alienating others. And yet, engaging with constituents is exactly what politicians should be doing on the campaign trail – and yes, gang members are constituents too. That’s not to say they are beyond scrutiny, or any victims should be overlooked, but ignoring them or painting every gang-affiliated person as an irremediable criminal might cut us off from understanding why people join gangs in the first place.

They don’t form in a vacuum. The Royal Commission of Inquiry into Abuse in State Care showed us that former state wards, who suffered awful institutional violence and neglect, gravitated towards gangs to find affinity. Reporting from journalist Aaron Smale has also extensively covered this pipeline.

And so MPs – Māori in particular, as tangata whenua make up around 77% of gang members – are in the tricky position of trying to curb a cycle of abuse in which victims create more victims. 

But it’s a difficult line to walk. Don’t engage and how will you achieve change? Engage too much and you’re soft on crime, or, worse – an apologist for criminals. Labour knows that only too well. Like the co-governance conversation, gangs are political poison now, because of what happened when the Ardern-led Labour government came under immense scrutiny for providing $2.75m (from the proceeds of crime fund) to a Mongrel Mob-affiliated rehabilitation programme. The programme, Hard 2 Reach, saw a “significant” number of participants stay clean after the programme’s completion. That didn’t wash away the criticism.

The Greens, though, are doubling down on the gang photos, saying yesterday that they’d consider supporting a similar initiative to that Ardern-era one if “evidence” proved it could work.

Funding for that programme was halted by National police minister Mark Mitchell in 2024, in line with the coalition’s ‘tough on crime” approach. They’ve wanted to look even tougher on gangs, banning insignia in public.

Justice minister Paul Goldsmith has often rubbished the idea that the government should treat gangs as a social issue, but that hasn’t always been the National Party approach. Former prime minister Rob Muldoon had an famously close relationship with gang members, favouring a ‘carrot-and-stick’ approach to tackle gangs as a social issue, favouring subsidised work schemes and recreational activities over a tough-on-crime approach. However, abuse of the scheme through the misuse of funds ultimately led to its cancellation in 1987.

But a measured approach or nuance during an election campaign? Not when the polls have National and Labour neck-and-neck. Not when National is running a campaign trying to tie Labour to its potential coalition partners' most radical policies. In a campaign like this, any bad optics become immediate weapons.

The gang photos are ultimately not as much of a problem for the Greens or Te Pāti Māori as they are for Labour. On Wednesday night the party’s leader, Chris Hipkins stood under the bright lights at the NZ Herald’s leaders’ debate and faced the inevitable gang attack line from National leader Christopher Luxon. There’s simply no reality in which the next Labour-led government would allow any Greens or Te Pāti Māori MPs to hold police or justice portfolios, he said. Going to the gang pad and taking photos was “really, really ill considered”.

He shut the conversation down, even though engagement is not endorsement. To be fair to Hipkins, it was the safest call to make this close to election day.

But even if he's managed to squash this attack line, he won't be thanking the Greens or Te Pāti Māori for giving the right a weapon to bash them with, especially when National is frothing at the mouth over any misstep. Senior Labour MP Willie Jackson summed it up well on RNZ when he said: “You do not hand the government something, who are absolutely desperate at the moment.”

One of Aotearoa's best eating streets just got even better with the addition of this Palestinian gem.

What is it?

Zaitoon is a family-owned Palestinian restaurant making waves on Dominion Road. It’s homely, nice but not overly flash, and deeply rooted in community here and abroad. The name means olive in Arabic, a nod to the fruit key to the nation’s culture, economy and cuisine. 

Where is it?

I’d call it “that first bit of Dominion Road”. Look for the Mövenpick on the corner of Burnley Terrace and Dominion Road – you’ll spot Zaitoon's olive-green walls next door. It’s nestled in what’s growing into a killer culinary block, with neighbours like Ooh-Fa and Michelin-recognised Parro. For a strip with an incredible concentration of great food but sparse Middle Eastern offerings, it fills a real gap in the scene. 

What’s new about it?

Zaitoon opened its doors in early September, brand new fit-out and all. They’ve made the most of the small former takeaway shop (it fits 40 diners, at most), with beautiful, modern design grounded in traditional motifs. There’s an olive tree in the window, another in a painting wrapped in a keffiyeh, suede teal chairs against a light mint wall, and gold hardware to match their delicate emblem. 

Who’s behind it?

Zaitoon is the product of chef and owner Nehad Albattniji’s many years of work. Growing up with nine sisters and two brothers meant first dibs on dinner went quickly, so he got in the kitchen and started cooking for himself. His culinary career spans cooking at a school in Gaza, starting a catering business after moving to Aotearoa in 2010, and opening a takeaway spot, also called Zaitoon, in Manurewa. Today, he’s realised his long-held dream: opening a Palestinian-owned restaurant that serves Palestinian food.

What are the vibes?

Welcoming, hospitable and family-friendly (helped by the lack of any alcohol on site). Early on a Friday night, we spotted families, date nights and groups of friends catching up. You should probably book ahead of time; walk-ins were out of luck, and it seems Zaitoon has been just as busy since it opened. It feels like it already has that patina a long-standing family institution develops over some years. In a way, with Albattniji’s experience across his many venues, it’s been earned. And though I was ready for kinks in the service given its infancy, I was impressed by all our food arriving in less than 30 minutes. 

Some would say the restaurant isn’t political, but they’d be ignoring the posters for an upcoming protest next to the till, or the simple fact that more than 100 of Albattniji’s family have been killed in Gaza since 2023. Its dishes tell the story of a culture actively under threat of erasure, keeping it alive halfway across the world. It feels like there’s been an increasing demand to support Palestinian-made in the face of the ongoing genocide, from food to goods. You could say Aotearoa’s first Palestinian restaurant opening in 2026 is an answer to that demand. 

What should I order?

At least one dip is necessary, if not just for the fluffy, steaming but perfectly warm flatbreads that accompany them. The hummus is great, but you might get some with your mains, so go for the muhammara: roasted capsicum, panko crumb, walnuts and pomegranate molasses blitzed into greatness, garnished with its ingredients in solid form. A drizzle of olive oil keeps it moist, while the pomegranate molasses helps hold up some tang to the capsicum’s sweetness.

Mixed grill always feels like a win, because you can’t go wrong with a bit of everything. Such is the case here: lamb kofta, chicken shish taouk and lamb tikka come on a bed of muhammara bread that soaks all those juices up. The meats were tender, with the charcoal grill imparting a smokiness that accentuated the spices. The rice (or chips, your choice) and well-dressed salad were both pleasant surprises. Plain white rice is a perfectly acceptable side, but isn’t it so much better when it’s the colour of a sunrise and tastes like it too? The sharp pickles were great after overloading on the meats, as were the hummus-dipped flatbreads.

Sadly I couldn't fit in the layered rice dish maqlouba, which looks like a great option for feeding a crowd – and the grand cheese pulls of the knafeh on Zaitoon's Instagram are a convincing reminder to leave room for dessert next time.

What’ll it set me back?

A fairly low amount for how full I felt walking out; the muhammara was $15, mixed grill was $38, and the beef shawarma came to $30 for an $83 total. Drinks range from $6-12.

Zaitoon

353 Dominion Rd, Mt Eden

Tues-Thurs 5pm-10pm, Fri 5pm-late, Sat-Sun 4pm-late

NZ First MP Andy Foster claims to be a non-Wellington MP despite owning a house in the capital and standing as a candidate in the Upper Hutt seat of Remutaka. 

An MP who claimed a $36,400 per year accommodation allowance intended for non-Wellington MPs is now running in an electorate in the Wellington region. 

New Zealand First list MP Andy Foster, a former Wellington mayor, has claimed the taxpayer-funded allowance since 2025, when he purchased a second home in Wairarapa, which he listed as his primary residence. Foster has owned a house in the Wellington suburb of Karori since February 2000 and continues to stay there during parliamentary sitting blocks. 

Parliamentary expense disclosures show that Foster claimed a total of $39,500 towards the cost of staying in his Karori home between April 2025 and June 2026. 

When The Spinoff revealed his accommodation claims in May, Foster justified his status as a “non-Wellington” MP in part by saying he intended to stand as a candidate in the electorate of Wairarapa. 

However, the New Zealand First party list, revealed last week, confirmed that Foster is standing in the Upper Hutt electorate of Remutaka. Ron Mark is the party’s candidate for Wairarapa.

MPs cannot claim the accommodation allowance if they “live permanently in the Wellington commuting area” or if “the member’s constituency is predominantly within the Wellington commuting area”. The Wellington commuting area is defined as “Wellington, Hutt, Upper Hutt, and Porirua” – which includes the Remutaka electorate. 

If Foster were to win the Remutaka electorate (although he’s highly unlikely to beat the incumbent, Labour leader Chris Hipkins) he would be representing a constituency within the Wellington commuting area and would no longer be able to access the accommodation allowance. But if he loses and returns to parliament via the party list, where he is ranked 11th, he could keep claiming the allowance.

Foster initially refused to answer questions over the phone. He told The Spinoff: “Can you please follow some real news? I live where I live” and hung up the phone saying “I’ve got other things to do”. 

The Spinoff sent Foster the following questions over text:

1. Do you think it is ethically appropriate to claim a non-Wellington accommodation allowance despite owning a house in Wellington and running in an Upper Hutt seat?

2. If you win the seat of Remutaka will you continue to claim the non-Wellington accommodation allowance? 

3. Do you believe the $36,400 per year you're claiming for an accommodation allowance on a home you already own is a good use of taxpayer money? 

Several hours later, he provided the following statement: “I live in the Wairarapa. It is not tenable to get home when parliament [is sitting] and that is why for the moment, like other MPs, we retain our property in Wellington, in preference to renting or hotel accommodation.”

When asked again if he would continue to claim the allowance if he won Remutaka, Foster said: “In that happy eventuality I would need to change my accommodation arrangements”. 

The accommodation allowance has been an ongoing issue during this parliamentary term. In 2024, prime minister Christopher Luxon was found to be claiming $1,000 per week against his mortgage-free apartment rather than living in Premier House. He later vowed to pay back the money.

Social development minister Louise Upston caused a similar furore in May after revelations that she had been claiming the allowance on her Wellington apartment while simultaneously raising the threshold for low-income New Zealanders to claim an accommodation subsidy. 

Earlier this month, the Remuneration Authority issued new rules which require ministers who claim the accommodation allowances on properties they own to seek a rental appraisal for their property rather than automatically claiming the maximum possible amount. However, these changes do not apply to backbench MPs.

The Kiwis are chasing Rugby League World Cup glory in 2026, but with Tonga and Samoa on the rise, the Pacific could have a major say in who lifts the trophy.

I have few regrets in life, but one that's stuck with me over the decades comes from 2008. It was late November and the Kiwis were playing Australia in the final of the Rugby League World Cup. My dad – a bonafide league diehard – couldn’t have been more excited.

We weren’t rich enough to afford Sky, but Māori TV was showing a delayed broadcast of the match and Dad wanted me to stay home and watch it with him. Instead, 13-year-old me was more concerned about going to a pool party in Gulf Harbour and chasing girls.

“You don’t want to watch the game with me?” I remember Dad asking me with a disappointed look on his face.

He was nice enough to eventually give in to my request to go to the party, after putting up with my bitching and moaning. I can’t remember where I ended up that night, but I do recall the party was shit. At some point, I heard the Kiwis had won the game and remember being in utter disbelief. What an upset.

The next morning, I was hitchhiking down Whangaparāoa Road back towards Stanmore Bay when I was picked up by a young brown man. “You watch the game last night?” I asked excitedly, hoping to break the ice and bask in New Zealand’s maiden Rugby League World Cup glory with him. “Nah, I don’t watch men running around in short shorts hugging each other on the ground,” he replied.

My dad has passed on now. While I’ll never have the opportunity to watch the Kiwis lift the Paul Barrière Trophy with him again, I'll certainly be making a point to watch every Kiwis game in their 2026 campaign, hoping they can repeat the triumphs of 18 years ago.

The 2026 World Cup begins tonight in Sydney with a highly-anticipated match between tournament favourites Australia and New Zealand kicking off at 10pm NZT. Running over the next five weeks, the competition will be predominantly hosted in Australia, with a Kiwis game against the Cook Islands in Christchurch being the sole game this side of the Tasman. The tournament will feature 10 teams across two pools. Australia and New Zealand are the favourites to finish in the top two of Pool A and advance to the finals, with the Fiji Bati and Cook Islands Aitu hoping they can pull off a major upset and nab a semifinal berth. 

Meanwhile, the other pool includes six teams, with England, France, Lebanon, Papua New Guinea, Samoa and Tonga all vying for a spot in the final four. While Australia, New Zealand, Tonga, and Samoa are widely expected to advance through to the finals, previous tournaments have shown anything can happen.

Defending champions Australia will be without star halfback Nathan Cleary, after he broke his leg in a NRL preliminary final against Newcastle. However, the 12-time champions are once again the bookies’ favourites to take home the trophy. The Kangaroos have a star-studded line up comprised of multiple Dally M winning players and representative superstars. But the Kevin Walters coached side will be acutely aware winning the tournament will be no walk in the park. 

For one thing, this year’s Kiwis team has been hailed as one of the strongest ever assembled, fronted by one of the strongest forward packs the game has seen. Changes in eligibility rules for State of Origin players earlier this year means superstar fullback Kalyn Ponga and Newcastle teammate Dane Gagai can now represent New Zealand at international level. 

Tonga and their Pacific archrivals Samoa continue to benefit from a movement of top-level players returning to play for their motherland, sparked by Jason Taumalolo’s historic decision in 2017 to defect from New Zealand and play for Tonga. Mate Ma’a Tonga is littered with NRL superstars, including Haumole Olakau'atu and Robert Toia, who both made the Dally M team of the year. 

Toa Samoa will be hoping to go one better in 2026 after finishing as runners-up in 2021, becoming the first team outside of England, New Zealand and Australia to make a World Cup final since France in 1968. NRL Premiership winning Benaiah Ioelu and Spencer Leniu feature in the squad, as do fellow finalists Greg Marzhew, Francis Manuleleua, Jermaine McEwen and Pasami Saulo.

England remains a dark horse in the tournament, seeking its first World Cup title as an independent country (Great Britain has won three World Cups). The Dolphins’ Dally M centre of the year Herbie Farnworth headlines the squad and is joined by NRL premiership winner Victor Radley and fellow finalists Dom Young and Hugo Savala.

In my neighbourhood of Māngere, cars are already covered in Samoan and Tongan flags. If the recent Pacific Cups are anything to go by, the town centre down the road from my house will soon become a rallying point for proud fans, blasting music through their sirens, honking horns and parading into the early hours of the morning. Whatever the result, they'll be making noise and sending their support across the Tasman.

The rise of Tonga and Samoa has given their supporters even more reason to believe. The Kiwis' 2008 victory remains one of New Zealand's great sporting achievements, and another triumph would be something special. But imagine if a team outside the traditional powers of New Zealand, Australia and England went all the way.

I'll be cheering for the Kiwis, of course. I'll watch every game, hoping to see them lift the Paul Barrière Trophy again. And when I do, I'll think of my old man, and the game I wish I'd stayed home to watch with him.

It all feels disgustingly futile. But the futility-to-apathy pipeline is exactly what they're counting on.

Want Hera’s help? Email your problem to helpme@thespinoff.co.nz or fill out this form.

Hi Hera,

I was hoping to get your advice on how to work through the feelings of anger and despondency I have towards New Zealand, its right wing governments and the cruelty of austerity.

It’s a feeling wrapped up in guilt too; I was a public servant who didn’t lose their job but decided to leave anyway. Now with more public service job cuts announced, I find myself experiencing a complicated mix of guilt, despair, disbelief and anger.

Did you ever feel a sense of peace and find ways to accept the worst parts of this piss country (along with all the great things)? Thank you for all your work.

Best, 

Austerity complex

Dear Austerity complex,

I struggle with this problem myself. It’s hard to gauge what the appropriate amount of political rage is. Too much, and you get sucked into a personal despair vortex, rendering you too incoherent and pessimistic to do anything productive. Too little and it’s easy to become numbed by apathy, as your country circles the neoliberal drain.

A lot of people write in to ask me how to manage their growing feelings of despondency and rage. It’s probably the most common question I get, after "how do I become polyamorous" (🤷‍♀️) and "how do I stop hating my job I can’t afford to quit?" (🦹🔫🏦💰💰💰)

Normally there’s something you can do to change your circumstances, whether that’s getting divorced or practising circular breathing until your blood is dangerously oxygenated. But political anger is harder because it’s usually an entirely sane response to an all-you-can-eat buffet of being kicked in the teeth. Many would argue you have a moral responsibility to be pissed, for the good of democracy. But it’s hard to know what to do, beyond sending a bunch of well-deserved anthrax. And even that sort of behaviour only hurts the postie (soon-to-be self-employed postal contractor).

Can you bully horrible people into having good opinions? Can you bamboozle them with rhetoric and statistics? How do you have a good faith debate with someone who doesn’t think poor people deserve medical care? It all feels disgustingly futile. But the futility-to-apathy pipeline is exactly what these ghouls want, and there’s no way to emancipate yourself from the dogmeat factory, beyond trying to calibrate your anger into the precise quantity that allows you to do something productive without also burning a hole through the top of your skull.

If someone is truly on the political fence, and has a history of voting for Act because they have a rare fungus of the brain, rather than a sour bottle cap of hatred rattling around inside their empty moral core, approaching them with compassion and trying to find common ground is a more effective rhetorical technique than shaming. But shaming has an important strategic place too. There are always calls for political civility around an election, but I often think there isn’t enough anger in leftist politics, as David Seymour and all of his other Goosebumps Night of the Living Dummy cronies go about gleefully launching their third consecutive “single-mother euthanasia catapult” weeks before election day.

You say you feel guilty for leaving the public service, but honestly you might have been made redundant anyway. Luckily, you don’t need to be gainfully employed by Forest & Bird to do some good in this world.

The best thing to do is to try to channel that rage and despair into doing something useful. Pick something that you are passionate about and good at. If you are rhetorically strong, go door knocking. If you have spare resources, donate. If you are a freak in the spreadsheets, I’m sure there are plenty of worthy groups that could use your data entry skills. Perhaps you already do a job that does objective moral good, in which case, go hard. Sometimes it helps to narrow in on something you’re especially passionate about and advocate specifically for that cause, rather than trying to be ambiently mad at everything at once.

What you shouldn’t do is waste your life arguing with people on the internet, or doomscroll yourself into a state of paralysis.

Personally, it helps me to remember that democracy has always been a shit show, and progress is never purely linear. Right now it feels like the world is sliding backwards. But this is not a uniquely fucked moment in history. Political change always encounters setbacks, regression, and sabotage. That doesn’t mean progress isn’t being made, and small gains aren’t worth fighting for. It’s just a lot slower and more torturous than we’d like.

When I feel most incoherent with anger and despair, one of the things that helps is finding people to look up to. Chlöe Swabrick is a personal hero, and having someone who can effortlessly articulate the hypocrisy and short-sightedness of our current government and offer alternative solutions is deeply inspiring and gives me hope for elections to come.

The last thing everyone can do is put on their orange gimpsuit and encourage everyone they know to ENROL TO VOTE BEFORE THE 25TH OF OCTOBER. You may not be able to change someone’s views on mandatory drug testing, but you might at least be able to motivate someone to check their enrolment details.

Luxon v Hipkins round two had little to offer other than a telling Luxon error, writes Henry Oliver in today’s excerpt from The Bulletin.

The NZ Herald leaders’ debate, moderated by Ryan Bridge, opened with both Chrises insisting, hand on heart, they had never lied in politics. As RNZ’s Craig McCulloch notes, it was “about as convincing as the next 90 minutes.”

Both parties sit on 28% and both leaders on 20% as preferred prime minister – so three out of every five voters prefer someone else. Bridge went for an early kill: “Why are you guys doing so poorly?” Neither looked inward. Hipkins blamed voter disillusionment; Luxon pointed to a "global political problem" where mainstream parties had “failed to deliver” – but not his, he clarified.

A turning point?

Luxon was holding his own through the first segment, as recounted by the Herald’s Thomas Coughlan, his “sunny disposition” contrasting with Hipkins’ frown. Then Bridge asked both to commit to lifting the minimum wage at the rate of inflation. Luxon said yes – adding it was “more or less what we've been doing.”

It wasn’t. The coalition has had three chances to lift the minimum wage and three times has increased it below inflation. As Coughlan notes, in 2024 alone the gap between the coalition’s 2% rise and an inflation-matching 4% was nearly $950 a year for a full-time worker – more than that worker saved in tax cuts. Hipkins quickly seized the opportunity. And Luxon never really regained his footing.

Hipkins on defence

Hipkins’ sharpest moment came on law and order. Following a story yesterday in which Green and Te Pāti Māori candidates posed for photos with Mongrel Mob members, he ruled out either party holding the police or corrections portfolios in any government he led – and said he didn't condone the visit. Today on The Spinoff, Veronica Schmidt calls it indicative of Hipkins at his (relative) best: “On defence, Hipkins’ shortest answers were the most effective.”

RNZ, however, questions the substance. At 28%, Hipkins “is hardly in a position of such strength to be dictating terms to his potential partners” – and the Greens would have a claim on a sizeable share of Cabinet on current polling. 

Hipkins was strongest on jobs and pay, noting 48,000 more people are unemployed than when Luxon took office. “You celebrate cutting jobs,” he said. “I want to create them.” On pay equity, he told Luxon: “[National] think women should settle for being paid less than men. I don’t.”

Luxon’s pitch

The Post’s Henry Cooke noted that Luxon finally got his primetime moment to deliver National’s core attack, looking down the camera to warn that Labour’s capital gains tax was “just the start” and Hipkins had an “unfunded set of policies.” “Mark my words, you are going to pay New Zealand. You are going to pay,” Luxon said.

He also deployed his best line of the campaign when challenged on the economy: “It’s really easy to burn a house down. Takes time to rebuild it.”

Hipkins called the CGT claim a lie – “This is why people don’t trust what you say” – and accused National of spending “hundreds of thousands of dollars to tell lies about the Labour Party.”

If no one wins, are we the losers?

When it came to verdicts, the Herald’s panel leaned towards Hipkins as a narrow winner, though only because most thought Luxon lost rather than Hipkins taking a win. “If anyone needed an illustration of why New Zealanders are disillusioned with our major political parties,” wrote Coughlan, “you only needed to watch tonight’s debate.”

Cooke wrote that it was hard to give it to either on points, though Luxon likely left having achieved what he wanted — uninterrupted airtime for his tax warning. “The real question for both Hipkins and Luxon going forward is whether anyone will be listening at all.”

Schmidt was blunter: “There was a lot of arguing but no fresh ideas and very little fresh information.” And then, blunter still: “Please don’t make us watch another one next week.”

Please don't make us watch another one next week.

The closer Christopher Luxon comes to annihilation, the more confident he seems to become. After he called a vote in his own leadership in April, and again after Chris Penk – acting alone – attempted to roll him in August, his performance immediately and noticeably improved. The same curious inverse relationship seems to be in play again.

On Monday, a 1News/Verian poll put National at 28%, neck-and-neck with Labour and with no way (if Luxon stands by his refusal to work with Opportunity) of forming a government. The effect? Last night the National Party leader was full of confidence and ready for a fight at the NZ Herald’s leaders' debate.

He took Chris Hipkins’ policies and made them scary. The capital gains tax? “It is little but it will grow and grow and grow”. He hogged credit and threw shade. “In 2028, we get back to surplus, pay down Chris’s debt.” No one could stop him mid-attack – he simply continued to talk when host Ryan Bridge tried to cut in, and met Hipkins’ attempts to interject with belittling waves of the hand and remarks surely learned in his days as a parent to young children: “Let’s not get so chirpy. Let’s calm down”.

Luxon even managed to come across as a human being, his long struggle to project authenticity and relatability momentarily buried as he admitted he liked to go to McDonalds and order a quarter pounder, large fries and a chocolate milkshake – and that he’d also get in trouble with his wife for admitting these “campaign stops”.

Projecting confidence, however, is different to inspiring it in others. Any headway he’d made with viewers, was surely undone by a record scratcher of a gaffe. He claimed the minimum wage had increased at the same level as inflation under his government. It had not.

Luxon has spent three years asking the country to hang on, to believe that the economy is turning around, that we’re all going to feel better off soon, and National is the party who will get us to those good times. To then reveal he doesn’t know basic facts about what the country’s lowest earners make was like wrapping up an early Christmas gift for Chris Hipkins. 

Hipkins gladly accepted it. Like Luxon, he was not there to paint an inspiring vision for the future, but simply to fend off attacks and launch them at his opponent. In this depressing war, here was one more weapon.

On defence, Hipkins’ shortest answers were the most effective. Luxon was keen to rake over a Greens and Te Pāti Māori visit to a Mongrel Mob pad and what that might mean for a left-wing coalition’s approach to crime. Hipkins shut the issue down by ruling out having either party taking the police or corrections portfolios in a future government. He went further by disapproving of the gang pad visit. “No, I don’t condone it. I think it was a bad judgment.”

On attack, Hipkins went long and prosecutorial. He took to Luxon over pay equity, and successfully painted what the coalition had done to so many groups of women as brutal and unfair. 

You could say he won that particular battle, but it was hard to feel at any point that anyone was winning, particularly the voters. There was a lot of arguing but no fresh ideas and very little fresh information.

Perhaps the only person enjoying the night was Ryan Bridge. God, he was having a good time. He delighted in forcing Luxon and Hipkins to shake hands, squeezed in a reference to Barry White while discussing fertility, and joked that he was going to start a game of Shag, Marry, or Kill. 

It made for quite the juxtaposition; the host’s joy rubbing up against the leaders' stale war.

Can we really face another leaders’ debate next week? Apparently we must.

At last night's Silver Scrolls ceremony, the National Party's arts minister left early. You could hardly blame him.

Madeleine Sami had an early warning. “You’re brave,” said the MC during her introduction for last night's Silver Scrolls ceremony. The Labour Party’s Rachel Boyack and the Green Party’s Steve Abel were in the crowd, but Sami's words were almost certainly directed at the National Party’s arts minister Paul Goldsmith, also in attendance at Kiri Te Kanawa Theatre. “Did you come for a roast?”

We were supposed to be honouring the best songs of the past year, but politics was on everyone's minds. “Kick these punks out,” spat Rob Ruha while accepting the first Silver Scrolls kapa haka songwriting award. “Send these ideas back to the dark ages where they belong,” declared a feisty Don McGlashan during an impassioned speech that listed all the things he believed National has done wrong over the past three years.

Sami kept the jabs up. She accused National of “making it hard” to vote, encouraged everyone to enrol before time runs out on October 25, then asked for contributions to a donations box at the front door. This, Sami suggested, could be used as the government's arts budget for 2027.

The crowd was hostile too. Near where I was sitting, anytime anyone mentioned Goldsmith's name someone made a violent retching noise, and I counted at least five of them across the three-hour ceremony. After the interval, as we sat back down, I heard someone else yell, “Whaddup, Paul Goldsmith?” as if inviting him to the Aotea Centre's carpark after the show.

You have to wonder why Goldsmith keeps putting himself through all this. National has cut arts funding and continues to refuse to mandate local openers for international acts. Tourism and hospitality minister Louise Upston's $40m events attraction package has come under intense scrutiny, with a member of her own coalition calling it a “slush fund”.

A theatre full of lubricated musos is quite possibly the worst place for a National Party member to spend three hours just weeks out from a tense election. Goldsmith had other options too: just a few blocks away, the latest leaders debate was underway at NZME. At least he would have had one friend there.

Yet, Goldsmith keeps showing up to these things, and he keeps getting it in the neck. At May's Taite Music Prize, it was industry veteran Carmel Bennett who gave him a serve. “Why the hell are we allowing international acts to play here without local openers?” she asked while receiving her Independent Spirit Award.

Then, a few weeks later at the Aotearoa Music Awards, a tearful Lynda Topp dished it out. “We need support for artists in this country. We need a government that says the arts is more important than a defence budget,” she said to a standing ovation. “What the fuck?”

Last night, between blasts at Goldsmith, there was a tonne of music to enjoy. This, the 61st edition of the Scrolls, also doubled as APRA's 100th anniversary and its three-hour party offered frequent history lessons and messages from birthday well-wishers – including Anika Moa, who baked a cake then offered to show off her bush (not that one).

The ceremony's live music was often thrilling, from an opening medley featuring more than a dozen musicians showcasing songs from around the Pacific, to a haunting in memoriam segment that sent chills down the spine.

As has become customary at the Scrolls, the night's five finalists had their songs reinterpreted by surprise guests. Those songs were bent in different shapes with varying results, like Borderline, who turned Aldous Harding's shapeshifter 'One Stop' into a stadium rock moment Bon Jovi would be proud of.

As Neil Finn stepped up to announce the night's big winner, an award that honours the best Aotearoa song written over the past year, he confirmed Goldsmith had left the building early. He couldn't help but get one last shot in. “There has to be something more to life than, 'No new taxes,” he said, a reference to a National Party election slogan.

Then Finn opened the envelope and announced the winner, the night's clear crowd favourite LEAO. Their song 'LALELEI' is the first Silver Scroll winner sung entirely in Gagana Samoa and is an infectious surf-pop jam that oozes pure joy. If anyone could have used a dose of that last night, it was Paul Goldsmith.

The winners:

Silver Scroll Award | Kaitito Kaiaka winner: 'LALELEI' – LEAO.

Maioha Award | Tohu Maioha winner: 'Puna Ora' – Aro.

SOUNZ Contemporary Award | Te Tohu Auaha winner: 'Light Lines' – Dylan Lardelli.

Te Tihi o te Maunga Tito | Kapa Haka Songwriting Award winner: 'Te Tapuni' – Rob Ruha, performed by Te Taumata o Apanui (TOA).

Best Original Music in a Series Award | Tohu Paerangi winner: Claire Cowan, Bust Up.

Best Original Music in a Feature Film Award | Tohu Pūmanawa winner: Karl Steven for Pike River.

Ann Patchett tells Noelle McCarthy how her latest book had its beginnings in a Te Anau glowworm cave.

A few years ago, I spent a couple of hours with Ann Patchett in a hotel in Auckland. We ate pistachios and when I said goodbye to her, I felt a weirdly intense wrench. 

Apparently it’s not unusual to feel a deep parasocial connection to the American author – ask her and she’ll tell you she’s like Taylor Swift for middle-aged white women readers. In person she’s very similar to the voice on the pages of her award-winning books: funny, dry, grounded, a trademark mix of kind and unsentimental. Tender. 

I interviewed Ann Patchett for my new Substack, Tell It Slant, and asked her about the New Zealand experience that inspired her latest novel, Whistler.  

Here’s an excerpt (edited for clarity):

Noelle McCarthy: I trace so much of this book back to the essay you wrote in the New Yorker [about visiting the glowworm cave in Te Anau]. Do you think it's fair to say that Whistler comes from this near-death experience in New Zealand? 

Ann Patchett: It's so funny because I loved (loved!) New Zealand and I had so many people say to me, "Write a New Zealand novel". And in a very, very strange way, I did, because of that experience I had in the cave. That happened, and a year later, I wrote that essay. It was percolating the whole time in the back of my head, but I was writing a different novel that wound up failing, and I threw it away. And as soon as I threw it away, I thought, "Well, I'm going to go write that essay about New Zealand. And it was in writing that essay that I thought, oh wait, wait, wait, wait! Now I know what I want to do, which is write a book about my friend Jim Fox. 

Jim had died just before I came to New Zealand, and he died on his 85th birthday, which, I always like to say, was not a tragic death – it was a death in its proper time, sad, sad, sad though it was. And when I wrote that essay about the dreaded glowworm cave in Te Anau, Jim made a little appearance in the essay. And then I thought, “Oh look at this! I can write Jim's voice. I can get Jim's voice on the page, and it just sounds exactly like Jim. And I'm going to write a whole novel using Jim's voice, using that tremendous love we had. Where does the love go when the person you love dies? What do you do with all that love and that happy back and forth and back and forth? And I thought, I'll put it in a novel. 

NMC: I'm conscious there may be people who haven't yet read your New Yorker essay (it's paywalled). For their benefit, would you encapsulate the existential journey you had in that cave in Te Anau? I don't want to spoil the piece for people but…

AP: I  don't think you could spoil an essay. We didn’t die. That would be the spoiler. 

So, my husband and I were travelling with [New Zealand author] Meg Mason and her husband Andrew Mason. When the time came to go to this cave at 10 o’clock at night, and you had to drive to the dock and get on a boat and go across a lake, I was really the only one who wanted to go. Meg wanted to go a little. The husbands did not want to go, but they said that they would, and we all went. And New Zealand, not to denigrate a beautiful country, but you all have a bit of an earthquake issue, and you go into this cave, it's a hole in the ground that is narrow and low, and there's one way in and there's one way out. And you crawl into the hole, and you go quite a ways down and down because you want to see these glowing worms, and you get in a boat that is in a freezing-cold rushing river in the pitch-black dark, and it is pulled on a chain by a wisened old man, who I don't believe they've let up above ground for decades. People must just bring him a sandwich every now and then, and he pulls the boat on a chain, and in the in the dark in the freezing water, and you look at these worms, who are vomiting up tiny strings of bile in order to catch insects to eat, and they turn out not to be worms. They're maggots, they tell you…

NMC: Meggits, as Meg says..

AP: Yes. So why would you not be thinking of death, right? It is a reasonable thing to think about in the circumstances. In the dark with the meggits, and if the Earth's plates shift incrementally, you are never coming back up again. You will be buried there, and I had an existential crisis that was actually very sad. I was thinking not of the death of my beloveds, I was thinking of my own death, and how super sad that was going to be. And then I came up and the next day – this is what makes the piece complete – the four of us went to the Milford Sound, and we had to go through the tunnel that goes straight down [The Homer tunnel] and Meg – she had no sympathy for my existential crisis – but the very next day she had her own existential crisis as we were plummeting to the bottom of another dark hole, which New Zealand seems to be famous for, and saying “we’re all going to die in here”.

NMC: You told her a story about a famous kea, and that sort of helped, didn't it? 

AP: Yes, I did. 

NMC: You told her the story of Sally, a world-famous kea, and people can discover that when they read the essay. 

But, there was one detail in there, that I noticed actually – I don't think those caves would have been discovered by Māori 2,000 years ago as you say, because Māori didn't come to New Zealand until maybe more like the late 1200s. The fact checkers at the New Yorker missed that one, and they’re supposed to be terrifying. 

AP: You know, in the contributor's note to that piece they said that I was the author of Tim Lake. [Patchett’s novel, a New York Times #1 Bestseller is called Tom Lake.] It was David Sedaris who told me. And he said, "You know, Tim Lake – isn't that one lake over from Tom Lake?”

You can watch the full video interview on Substack or listen to Tell It Slant wherever you get your podcasts.

Red Chris vs Blue Chris.

The polls have Labour and National neck-and-neck. Here's how the high-stakes debate unfolded.

'I'm terrible at being romantic in a relationship'

Want to be part of Love, actually? Fill out the questionnaire here.

Age: 34

Gender: Non-binary

Sexuality: Queer. People tell me I'm pansexual, but there's been periods of my life where I've definitely had far more crushes on one gender. Gender can be sexy - it's a big part of what I'm attracted to.

Ethnicity: Pākehā

Religion: Atheist

Occupation: Government worker

Length of relationship: Six months

Children: Nada

How we met: Through a friend

The best thing about my relationship: We support each others' dreams (or even the exploration of what on earth is my dream?! I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up). And we're patient with each other.

A problem we can't seem to resolve: Accepting help from each other. We're both horrifically independent and dare I say avoidant.

This is how we share/separate our finances: We live separately in different cities, with entirely separate finances. Any big purchases (eg holidays) are 50/50, and smaller things like grabbing takeaways or an uber are approached with a "I'll get this one, you get the next one" attitude.

This is how we split chores and childcare: When we visit we just help do things. There hasn't been any active discussion over who does what, but so far there hasn't needed to be. Knock on wood that stays the same and neither of us drops the ball!

Our sex life in three words: Horny but patient.

The thing that makes me a good partner: I like seeing people achieve their dreams. That, and I'm pretty direct about what I need and good at asking what someone else does. I think a lot of relationship issues happen when people can't safely share what they need or hear what someone else does.

The thing I need to work on to be a better partner: Small romantic gestures. I'm great at showing up to see a friend with flowers, but terrible at being romantic in a relationship. I have a knee jerk reaction to it, but I'm working on it.

What I most appreciate in my partner: They do small acts that show they've thought of me. Stocking drinks I like when I visit, buying a heater when it got cooler because I've mentioned I struggle in the cold. I may have a knee-jerk reaction to big romantic gestures, but these small ones mean the world to me.

What I most resent in my relationship: Distance. Nothing is worse than knowing they've had a terrible day and not being able to go over and give them a cuddle.

The thing that has changed the most about my relationship over time: My sense of security. It's still not there 100% but I've learned to stop trying to find reasons this won't work. Either it will, or it won't. I don't need to pull the rip-cord just because it might not.

It would surprise people to know this about my relationship: I asked for us to be official.

Our last big fight was about: How something was worded.

If I hadn't met my partner: I'd be living overseas already.

I expect my relationship to last until: Fuck knows. Hopefully a while - I like them.

My relationship advice is: Be direct about your non-negotiable needs. Either someone can meet them, or they can't. Similarly either you can meet theirs or you can't. It's not worth waiting around hoping someone will magically figure them out.

Welcome to The Spinoff Books Confessional, in which we get to know the reading habits of Aotearoa writers, and guests. This week: author of Offshore Service and Other Stories, Craig Cliff.

The book I wish I'd written

Legend of a Suicide by David Vann. It’s a mix of short stories and a novella, and it starts you on one path with apparently connected stories, and then the novella turns everything on its head. It’s the most visceral reaction I’ve ever had when reading a book – gut-punched as a son and a human being; in awe as a writer.

Vann’s career since has been weird – rehashing the same territory and publishing his last three books only in French. But there’s a new novel in English promised next year, so we’ll see if he breaks new ground.

The book everyone should read

The Seasonal Quartet by Ali Smith because it's one of the great achievements in 21st century literature. Smith was essentially writing and responding to Brexit, climate breakdown and later the pandemic in real time, publishing one instalment a year. Each season contains multitudes, Smith zigs and zigs, but it all coheres. Incredible.

The book I want to be buried with

Cremation is the norm in my family and I don’t believe in burning books, lol. I’d much prefer it if my loved ones created a little shrine along a bush walk somewhere and included some books in it. They could start with Moby Dick, which has sustained me intellectually and imaginatively thus far in life. (It plays a huge part of the opening story in my new collection, too.)

The first book I remember reading by myself

It would have been a Little Golden Book, possibly The Poky Little Puppy? My mum gave me the whole stash from my childhood when I became a parent and the one I can still recite by heart is Donald Duck and the One Bear. On the one hand it’s a troubling portent for the current legacy IP-obsessed state of mainstream media, but it also tickles my writer brain the way it takes a familiar story (Goldilocks and the Three Bears) and subverts it at every turn. And it has plenty of scope for silly voices.

It’s a crime against language to…

It’s gotta be the construction “like so many X”. 

“The stars sparkled like so many diamonds.” “The men scrambled across the cliff like so many spiders.” Ugh. No one talks like that. It just screams Creative Writing.

The book that made me laugh

It’s at least 20 years since I first read Pastoralia by George Saunders but just thinking about it still makes me smile. I have to admit that Saunders’ novels don’t do it for me, but his short stories are frequently hilarious in an awkward-on-purpose way that is just so hard to pull off.

The book I never admit I’ve read

The good thing about being a writer is that you can read anything and claim it was research. I listened to the audiobook of Jordan Peterson’s 12 Rules for Life (not wanting to be caught on the bus reading the physical book) when I was trying to write a young male character falling under the sway of right wing manosphere nonsense. There’s certainly an ick factor with Peterson, but my prevailing memory is how reedy and facile it was.

If I could only read three books for the rest of my life they would be

I’d choose short story collections to get the most variety. I wouldn’t choose big “Collected Stories” either, no matter how great Cheever, Chekhov and Flannery O’Connor are, because that feels like cheating. And there’s something magical about a well-constructed single collection that captures a writer in a particular phase of their career. So let’s go for: Birds of America by Lorrie Moore, Love and Hydrogen by Jim Shepard, and The Lynx Hunter by Owen Marshall.

The book I wish would be adapted for film or TV

I’d love to see a feature film adaptation of Walter M. Miller Jr’s A Canticle for Leibowitz (1959), which is about civilisation rebuilding itself, and literacy re-emerging, after a nuclear apocalypse. I feel like it would have fresh resonance given how large AI looms over us and the environment.

And while we’re talking Sci-Fi epics, it’s crazy to me we haven’t yet had a TV series adaptation of Neal Stephenson’s Seveneves or Termination Shock. They’re both great examples of hard science fiction. A bit like Andy Weir (The Martian, Project Hail Mary), but with way more going on. You’d need at least 10 hours to do one justice.

The most underrated book

Jujitsu for Christ by Jack Butler (1986) is a book not enough people have heard of, let alone read. According to WorldCat, there are only six copies in libraries in Aotearoa (all of them tertiary institutions; none in Te Waipounamu). It’s set in Mississippi during the civil rights era and manages to balance humour, humanity and experimentation.

Greatest New Zealand writer

Everything Janet Frame did just oozes greatness. There are a lot of contemporary writers who have greatness in them, but it can be hard to keep a career in orbit, let alone achieve escape velocity like Frame did, with the level of support artists and writers receive currently in Aotearoa. Money’s important (UBI, anyone?), but so is encouragement. If only all those AI-generated emails targeting writers’ vanity were genuine.

Best place to read

Nothing can beat reading poetry collections in the window seat of my wife’s cousin’s crib in Aparima. But I’m also a big fan of pairing audiobooks and gardening.

What I'm reading right now

I’m about to start Meg Mason’s latest, Sophie, Standing There. I loved Sorrow and Bliss. It’s probably one of the best three New Zealand books I’ve read in the last 10 years (shout outs also to She’s A Killer by Kirsten McDougall and Birnam Wood by Eleanor Catton). 

I’m also reading an advanced copy of Laurence Fearnley’s new novel, Dedication, which is fab so far.

Offshore Service and Other Stories by Craig Cliff (Otago University Press) is available to purchase at Unity Books.

Married at First Sight Australia expert John Aiken reveals why making a documentary inspired by the work of Nigel Latta was the best TV experience of his life. 

John Aiken was nervous when he first sat down to chat with some well-known New Zealanders for his new documentary series Lessons on Living. The Australian psychologist was about to ask his famous guests to open up to him about some of their darkest and most difficult times, and Aiken – best known here as an expert on controversial reality series Married at First Sight Australia – was worried about how they might respond. “Would they sit there and go, ‘what's the MAFS guy doing here?’” 

But Aiken didn’t need to worry. The guests in question were also there to talk about the enduring wisdom of clinical psychologist Nigel Latta, and Aiken says their shared familiarity with Latta’s work made it easy to connect. Aiken is the presenter of Lessons on Living, a new three-part series inspired by Latta’s best-selling book of the same name, which offers simple tools to deal with life's toughest moments. The book was shaped by Latta's own experience of coping with an incurable cancer diagnosis, and was published one day after Latta's death in 2025. 

Aiken’s role in the docu-series is to carry on the conversations that Latta started, and while he never met Latta in person, Aiken says Latta’s work had a huge impact on him. Throughout his own psychology career, Aiken admired the way Latta made complex issues easy to understand, and appreciated how his no-nonsense, direct language appealed to New Zealanders from all sorts of backgrounds. “He didn't get heavily bogged down in psycho-babble. He was all about: if there's a problem, here's what you do about it, and it was always backed by science.” 

The docu-series is a mix of pragmatic advice, social experiments and inspiring conversations with people like Gilbert Enoka, Lucy Hone, Benee and Shaun Johnson. Each episode explores one of Latta’s three core principles about how to build resilience and deal with grief, illness and trauma, but the series is also a tribute to Latta himself. It's filled with colourful memories of Latta and emotional interviews with those closest to him, including his wife Natalie Flynn and brother Craig. “It really allows the audience to get to know Nigel in a way that perhaps they haven't known in his previous documentaries,” Aiken says. 

It was an immense privilege for Aiken to make the docu-series, and after 14 seasons of dramatic MAFS dinner parties, a refreshing change, too. “It allowed me to really flex different muscles and lean into a very different style of filming,” he says, noting that while MAFS features many cameras and a crew of hundreds, making Lessons on Living involved a simpler set-up and a much smaller team. “You roll the sleeves up and you do whatever it takes, and so there's an intimacy to it which I haven't had before.” 

Lessons on Living was made by the same production company who worked with Latta for a decade on TV shows like The Curious Mind, You’ve Been Scammed and Mind Over Money. Working with a team who knew Latta well was important to Aiken, and he describes it as one of the best filming experiences he’s ever had. Importantly, it felt like Latta was always with them. “We talked about Nigel's stories. We'd have drinks at the end of the day and we'd reminisce. There were so many laughs,” he remembers. “We also followed through with Nigel's policy: no dickheads allowed.”

As Lessons on Living launches on New Zealand screens tonight, what does Aiken think Latta would have made of the series? Aiken admits he’s given it some thought, and reckons Latta would be “quietly happy” with the result. “It brings his book to life, and I think he'd be delighted that I shared some laughs with the people that he knew very well.”  He’s also pleased that the series will introduce Latta’s easy humour and relatable advice to a new audience of New Zealanders.

Mostly, Aiken hopes Lessons on Living is a fitting tribute to a “bloody good Kiwi bloke” who made psychology accessible to everyone. “I hope people reflect on Nigel and think about him and all his magnificence,” Aiken says, adding that regardless of whether Latta was handling a tarantula or diving into the ocean in one of his many television shows, he was a remarkable man. 

“He helped all sorts of people. I hope people really take a moment after watching it to remember him.”

Lessons on Living streams on Neon and screens on Sky Open on Wednesdays at 8.30pm.