Summer reissue: Dinner at her favourite restaurant landed Beth Brash in A&E, where the doctor’s orders were to head straight to the dairy to source an unlikely remedy.

First published on June 29, 2023.

When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade, right? Well, life gave me lemons but it turns out it was Coke on the menu. 

What unfolded at one of my favourite Wellington restaurants, KC Cafe, last Friday is a saga so bizarre it needed sharing. 

So there I am about to order my favourite dish, eggplant claypot (which – I feel for the story it’s worth mentioning – is so soft you could almost eat through a straw), but due to the influence of the brilliant @KC_Review on Instagram, I thought I would branch out and try something new. @KC_Review gave the Xinjiang chicken with fresh chilli and ginger a 7 out of 10, which in hindsight is just an OK rating from them (for reference, the eggplant claypot gets a 9), but as they point out, “it looks awesome” – and it really did.

When I ordered it the two women at the counter both stopped what they were doing and piped up with questions of concern: “Have you had this dish before?”, “Can you handle spicy foods?”, “Are you OK with bones?” I brushed these all off with the nonchalance of a seasoned intrepid eater, almost using the line of questioning as a badge of honour, but this smug eater ran towards those red flags like they were bunting. 

My first bite of the chicken was delicious. I hadn’t tried it before but was glad I did. Oh wow, it was spicy – they had warned me, I guess – so with eyes streaming and stifling a cough, I swallowed. As it wedged itself into my oesophagus I thought, “Oh yes, there are the bones they talked about”, which quickly moved to, “Well, this is going to be embarrassing”. When you’re known for writing about food and running food events in the city, dying at one of your favourite restaurants would probably make the news. Oh well, at least they could say “she died doing what she loved”. 

Finally swallowing the chicken and my pride, the bone made its presence known in every centimetre of my throat and for the rest of the weekend. It wasn’t until Monday morning that I realised the pain hadn’t really subsided and so called Healthline. After a brief questionnaire, I was told to go to the accident and urgent care clinic immediately. 

There I was assessed, X-rayed and then brought into a room. Going through all the worst case scenarios, I thought the next stage would involve some sort of device down my throat. But the doctor assured me the bone was small, not a huge cause of concern and the pain was mostly from the scratch it had caused. The official medical advice and “after care” was something I did not expect. Neither did the doctor, who said, “I can’t believe I’m telling you to do this, but the ENT has said that drinking four cans of full-sugar Coke should help soften and dislodge the bone.” We both giggled at the absurdity of it; we also giggled and she apologised for having to write down “foreign object in orifice” which now, horrifyingly, is on my permanent medical record.

So off I trot, down to the Night & Day. Three cans of 440ml Coke were on special for $10, the exact prescribed amount but in a different dosage. Did they know I was coming, is this a common prescription? Is ThiS a BiG PhaRMa & CocA-COla AmaTiL CoNSpiRacY? 

This would be the most Coke I’d ever had in one sitting. I had flashbacks to growing up with a science teacher as a mother and doing this very experiment. We would put a chicken bone in a glass of Coke and after some time the bone became rubbery. It thrilled me as a child, but could this also explain why I’d never had four cans of Coke in one sitting? Parents take note. 

Turns out Coke is often used as medical-grade, human-safe Drano for the oesophagus. After I was jacked up on Coke and felt the need to share my experience on Instagram, plenty of medical staff responded with their stories of using Coke in the hospital. As well as dissolving and dislodging bones, it’s also used to clear blocked feeding tubes in situ. Someone else was advised by their doctor to drink a can of full-sugar Coke a day on their trip to Vietnam – “kills any bugs, he reckoned”. It worked, apparently. Other uses were to clean “blood off the highway” by first responders, and cleaning toilets and coins if you feel the need. Not to mention marinating meats, but I guess if we see what it does to bone, a bit of gristle is a walk in the park for this atomic bomb for the gut. 

I am thrilled to say it worked. The next day was noticeably better and by the one after I was back to normal. I am grateful for ACC, as it would be awkward to have to sue one of your favourite restaurants. Life lessons are: continue to try something new, but listen to the experts. And, if you’re downing a few cans a day of the good stuff, then maybe it’s time to give up the Coke habit

After celebrating its 50th birthday this year, Ollies’ longstanding owner Colin handed the baton to his son. What’s next for the beloved shop? 

It’s the last day of the school year, and as per tradition, my family and I are enthusiastically digging into ice cream sundaes smothered in chocolate sauce and all the trimmings. We’ve found a few scoops of the cold stuff goes a long way for both celebrations and commiserations, and on the days when everyone’s in a rut, the bad vibes melt faster than the ice cream dribbling down the cone. 

We always have at least one 4 litre tub in the freezer at home, and yet often find ourselves at our favourite neighbourhood ice cream parlour, because there’s something about the occasion of going out for a frozen treat. And there’s definitely something special about Ollies, the iconic diner wedged in between two converging roads at the Royal Oak roundabout that’s been bringing joy to locals for fifty years. 

This sentiment is obviously shared by all who come for the cheerful atmosphere and dizzying array of flavours, and stay for the entertainment provided by the near misses and occasional prangs of the intersection outside. Regular customer Bindiya Naran reports that a friend drives the 50+ km from Silverdale to Royal Oak to get a Tip Top ice cream cone they could easily get at their local dairy, because as she points out, “It just tastes better at Ollies”.

This year proved to be a big one for the little ice cream parlour and burger joint. Ollies quietly celebrated its half century birthday in February – incredible given that the average hospitality outlet in New Zealand only lasts three years – and just last month, long-time owner Colin Haines sold the business to his son Matt, passing the ice cream scoop onto the next generation to continue serving his loyal customers far into the future.

Colin and his wife Caroline opened Ollies on Valentine’s Day of 1973. They’d returned home from Canada with a love of the quintessential North American diner that they wanted to share with a city that had only just opened its first fast food restaurant. The location on the roundabout was as iconic as the red poppies on the window, and it quickly became a beloved fixture of the community. 

Stories circulate from the five decades since: of first dates, 65c floats, player of the day rewards and youngsters scrounging together enough coins for a single scoop and a game of spacies. Customers who visited as kids now relive the magic of their youth, bringing their grandchildren for a thick shake or famous Ollie Dog (an American hotdog with cheese and bacon) as part of a Sunday afternoon outing.

All four of Colin’s kids grew up hanging around the parlour, and like many local teens, learnt the value of hard work behind the counter at Ollies. It may seem like destiny, but while geography teacher Matt Haines remembers doing his primary school speech on ice cream (his Dad sweetening the audience with mini sundaes), owning the place was never part of his grand plan. But things fell into place when his father decided it was time to sell up at the same time that his wife Leigh was looking for a career change.

The couple come with family connections, plenty of hands-on experience and a cute backstory, having met at Ollies as teenagers back in the early 2000s, when the youth wage was $7 per hour and a couple of shifts could fund the latest album on CD. Love eventually blossomed, they got hitched and started their own family earlier this year, and both feel really great about returning to the diner as proud new owners. “It’s nice now I’ve come back however many years later and the same customers are still coming in and they recognise me,” Leigh says. “‘I’m like, ‘yeah I’ve aged a little, but I’m the same person that used to work here.’” 

Mike Knowles, a customer who has been chowing down on ham and cheese toasties since Ollies first opened its door, is excited by the news that Matt is taking over. “I’m just so pleased it’s staying in the family,” he says with a smile. The feedback online has been similar, and Matt reports that there has been a real buzz in the air and a huge outpouring of support.

Taking over from his Dad does have its own pressure though, as Matt feels he has big shoes to fill. Colin spent 50 years building relationships with the people in his community, and was something of a local celebrity. “He’s definitely a real people person and has the gift of the gab,” Matt says. “I wish I was as good as him in that regard.” While Colin’s successors are decidedly more shy, they share his fondness for the place, their eyes lighting up when talking about their customers, young staff and favourite items on the menu.

With a change of ownership comes the potential for a change in how the business is run, but Matt and Leigh plan to honour the original vision and the diner’s delightful lack of pretension. “I think the worst thing we could do is come in and change the place heaps, you know?” Matt says. ”We want to keep our loyal customers happy in the knowledge that it’s not going to turn into something that it never was.”

They have been busy modernising a few things behind the scenes, like upgrading the till and eftpos, streamlining the accounts and installing a fancy new sound system, but they plan to take the summer to find their feet before thinking about any future improvements. However, there is already talk of gift vouchers, a food truck (dubbed the “Ollie Trolley”) and dreams of opening another shop. Matt is also very keen to sell some good-quality merchandise for those wanting to take a souvenir home with them, and he has already had a request for the slogan “Loyal to the Royal since ‘73” to be emblazoned across a T-shirt.

Part of Leigh’s business plan is to replace the single-use plastics with greener alternatives like reusable dishes. “I would love to take it right back to how it used to be,” she says, “with the glass banana boats for our sundaes and parfait glasses.”

‘How it used to be’ is part of Ollies’ brand, as apparently nothing has changed aesthetically since the place opened. The lampshades might even be the originals, and whenever the red formica counter wears out, it is replaced by an identical new one. And before any long-time customers freak out, Matt and Leigh are definitely committed to the decor staying the same. “We don’t want people to walk in and go, ‘oh my god. What have you done? It looks like a different shop.’” Leigh says. “We want people to have that nostalgia when they walk in.”

Something the couple will be hoping to continue is the roaring success of the business, with famous faces, queues out the door in summer, and a year-round weekend crowd satisfying their late night munchies. Ollies has already weathered the storms of the GFC and Covid pandemic, because people still appreciate a little treat when other luxuries are out of reach. Matt also feels confident that they fill a niche market. “There’s so many quite high-end ice cream places that are becoming really popular, but I don’t feel like we are competing with them,” he says. “We’re in a real unique spot in that we’re just true classic kiwi ice cream.” 

The new owners are already learning that running a business is “bloody hard work”, but with the effort comes rewards aplenty. “What I’ve noticed recently is how happy people are when they come in with their family to get an ice cream,” Matt reflects. “When I was a teenager and working here, I didn’t really care too much about it, but now that we’re running the shop you get a lot of satisfaction out of bringing them joy.”

My standing order of kid’s sundae with goody goody gumdrops and sprinkles never fails to transport me back to the happy memories of my childhood, and while my own ratbags always leave Ollies with the remnants of chocolate fudge sauce smeared across their faces, I always leave with a smile smeared across mine.