Paul Newman’s beaming face has vanished from local supermarket shelves. Charlotte Muru-Lanning investigates the fate of her favourite salad dressing.

Newman’s Own salad dressing was a ubiquitous presence in the family fridge when I was growing up. I remember being enchanted by the actor’s ever-evolving costumes on the front of the bottles, but beyond that I never really gave the supermarket staple a second thought. Until now.

About two months ago, completely out of nowhere, I started craving a big bowl of crunchy lettuce with Newman’s Own Caesar vinaigrette. On my weekly visits to the supermarket I’d meander the aisles, clutching my shopping list with “Newman’s Caesar” scribbled on it, ready to chuck a bottle in my trolley when I reached the dressing aisle. And every time I left empty handed. After weeks of searching several supermarkets for any sign of Mr. Newman’s friendly face, I started to grow suspicious. The salad dressing section used to be packed with different flavours. Where in the world had all the Newman’s Own gone? 

I began my search by emailing enquiries to our two major supermarket chains, Foodstuffs and Countdown. The first response came back quickly and sent a chill down my spine: “We’ve checked with the team,” said a spokesperson from Foodstuffs, “and Newman’s Own salad dressing has been discontinued by the supplier.” “Discontinued” is not a word you want to hear associated with a food you’re craving.

Newman’s Own has been around since 1980, when the movie star and his mate A. H. Hochner made a massive batch of homemade salad dressing and decanted it into wine bottles to give away to friends. Their friends were so impressed that they convinced the pair to start selling it commercially in 1982. Feeling slightly guilty about all the money they’d made, Newman decided to give 100% of the profits to charity, something that’s become an iconic part of the branding. To date, Newman’s Own has donated more than US$540m to charity organisations around the world – including some in Aotearoa. Discontinued? Surely not.

A more hopeful-sounding response arrived in my inbox the following day: “Shipping issues mean we’re not able to purchase Newman’s Own dressings to sell in our stores at the moment,” said a spokesperson from Countdown. “We know Newman’s Own are a favourite and customers can rest assured that we are working closely with our supplier to try and get them back on shelf as soon as we can!”

It didn’t look like I was going to get my hands on a bottle of the stuff any time soon, so I went back to where this obsession all began: my parents’ fridge. My mum is the queen of condiments – her kitchen boasts an abundance of relishes and chow-chows, there’s always a bewildering array of hot sauces in the pantry and salad dressings aplenty in the fridge. As I suspected, she had a bottle of Newman’s Own Caesar vinaigrette tucked away in the fridge door. Just over half-full – or just under half-empty depending on your outlook. Best before May 23, 2021.

Mum told me she first encountered Newman’s Own in the early 90s when my godmother, then a flight attendant, used to bring back bottles as souvenirs from the US. “The bottles in America are bigger than they are here,” she said, “and there are way more flavours.” Why did she start buying it once it became available in New Zealand supermarkets? “I liked it,” she replied, looking disinterested in the direction our video call was taking. How did she feel knowing the dressing is no longer available in New Zealand? “I’ve got another dressing I like now,” she shrugged unsentimentally. Her tastes have changed over the last two decades, she explained. These days she prefers lighter, more natural and locally made vinaigrettes – “especially ones with raspberry in them.”

According to the Countdown spokesperson, their supermarkets haven’t had stock of Newman’s Own dressing for “around six months now”. This story was corroborated by a spokesperson from Hutchinsons, the grocery importer that manages the brand in New Zealand. “Unfortunately over the last couple of years, since the start of the [Covid-19] pandemic we experienced ongoing supply issues and increased costs, which left us no option but to temporarily delete the range from stores late last year,” they said in an email. “Very disappointing!” 

There is hope for Newman’s Own lovers on the horizon, however. “We have been working for some time to reintroduce the range with products made in Australia,” the Hutchinson’s spokesperson said. “We are hoping, all going well, to have the Paul Newman’s range of salad dressings available to New Zealand consumers in time for summer.”

For now my salads remain undressed, and my fingers firmly crossed that we may all be able to enjoy a lovely Newman’s Own-dressed salad again come barbecue season.

It’s the end of Rotuman language week and to celebrate, we’re sharing the recipe of a popular delicacy from that community that’s not your ordinary dessert.

If you were in Tāmaki Makaurau on Friday you may have noticed landmarks including the Sky Tower and Auckland Museum lit up in blue. The colour reflects the Fijian flag, and the event being marked was Rotuma Day, a celebration of the Rotuman minority group within the Republic of Fiji.

While Rotuma Day falls on May 13, it’s normally marked on the following Sunday with a combined church service followed by a huge Rotuman feast with one headlining dish. Rotumans say that if this dish is not on the table at any celebration, it’s not a true, traditional Rotuman event.

It’s called fekei [pronounced feh-kay] and earlier this month I met with a Rotuman living in West Auckland, Sopapelu Samisoni, to learn the process of making taro fekei (mara ma ‘a’ana) the modern way. Instead of using taro leaves to wrap the fekei in, we used loaf pans, and instead of cooking the fekei underground outside in an umu pit, we used a conventional oven.

There are around 25 different flavours of fekei such as banana or breadfruit (fekei ulu). Samisoni, a butcher by trade and last year’s Rotuman language champion, has been making fekei for over 20 years for families, friends and the Rotuman community back home and here in Aotearoa. He says it’s a beautiful reminder of home, his culture and language.

The theme for this year’s Rotuman Language Week, which finished yesterday, was vetḁkia ‘os fäega ma ag fak hanua – sustaining our language and culture. Throughout the week Rotumans rejoiced in prayer, songs and family activities, while practising phrases of the day that were posted online. For Rotumans, the week was not just a celebration of the richness of their language and culture, but a reminder of the dire need to ensure the language lives on. Rotuman is listed by Unesco as one of the world’s most endangered languages.

By sharing a recipe that has been passed down many generations, Samisoni hopes Rotumans will be inspired to share their own cultural knowledge, including their language, with their families to help revitalise and maintain Fäeag Rotuạm.

The taste of taro fekei reminds me of the popular Filipino dessert ube halaya, which is a flavour that now features in doughnuts, ice-creams and milkshakes across Aotearoa. 

Taro fekei

Serves 4-6

• 1 large whole taro
  
• 454g tapioca starch
• 500mls water
• 4x 400ml cans of coconut cream
• 500g raw cane sugar
• Margarine

Preheat the oven to 200 degrees C on fan bake.

Using margarine, grease the surface of two rectangle loaf pans (24 x 13.5 x 6.5 cm) to ease removal of baked goods.

Peel the taro and then slice in half to make the grating process easier.

Using a cheese grater, grate each taro piece until the texture looks like minced taro. Samisoni used a traditional Rotuman grater called a poat soroag fekei: poat comes from the word pota, which means tin, while soroag comes from the word soro, which means grate.

Combine the starch and 250mls of water and mix well. Add the rest of the water into the bowl and mix until the water has disappeared. Samisoni advises that you don’t want to put too much starch into your mixture as it’ll give the dough a hard texture, which is not what we’re after.

Pour the grated taro into the tapioca starch mixture and, using your hand, mix well until you reach a dough-like texture.

Add 1 cup of raw cane sugar to the dough and mix well. The mixing process can take up to 20 minutes. If you have a sweet tooth, add more sugar to taste.

Using a large spoon, fill each loaf pan evenly with the fekei dough.

Cut rectangle pieces of foil up to cover the top of each loaf pan. Paste one side of the foil with margarine and place the foil over the pans, margarine side down. Secure the foil down around the pan handles.

Place the two loaf pans on the middle rack of the oven and bake for two hours and 15 minutes.

When the fekei has baked thoroughly, it should be able to smoothly pop out of the pan.

Open up four coconut cream cans from the bottom, discard the excess water and pour the cream into a large, deep mixing bowl or stock pot.

Add both baked fekei into the stock pot and use a wooden spoon to combine the ingredients, mashing up the baked fekei with the coconut cream. Samisoni used an ‘ipesi, which is a special wooden stick carved especially for making fekei.

Add 1 cup of raw cane sugar to the baked fekei mixture and continue to mix well.

Optional: add more sugar to taste.

Serve your taro fekei in a bowl and enjoy. Samisoni’s recommendation is to add corned beef into your bowl and eat together with your taro fekei.

If taro is not your cup of tea, feel free to make banana fekei, using 1 bunch of bananas to replace the taro.

This is Public Interest Journalism funded through NZ On Air.