They’re a fixture in the UK, and now meal deals are here.
Is your boss dragging you back into the office? At least there’s a local meal deal now. But how good is it?
Eating at the office is one of life’s least nourishing occasions. I don’t care how many cookbooks have been dedicated to the art of elevating lunches, the reality for most of us is a box of languishing leftovers or a guilty dash to the nearest store.
Enter the $10 New World “lunch combo”, now available on Wellington’s Willis Street.
If you don’t have time for a supermarket sweep when you’re staring down the barrel of another restructure, this store has refined your options into one convenient fridge. For those of us with choice paralysis, those options are mercifully simple: choose one of a small range of sandwiches, add a packet of chips plus a chocolate bar, and wash it all down with a Pepsi brand soft drink.
Coined in the UK in the 1980s, the concept of a “meal deal” solidified the place of the sandwich in British working culture. As a cornerstone of the commuter’s diet, meal deals took a beating in the peak pandemic era, but like office life, the “foodie phenomenon” has made a remarkable comeback.
I set out to investigate both the calibre of the New World version, and its value as a budget offering.
The brave New World of office lunches, now available on Willis Street. (All photos supplied)
Taste: school lunch, revisited
According to a statement provided by Foodstuffs, the store has received “positive feedback” on its combo so far. I canvassed my colleagues for their thoughts on the matter, and all agreed that the deal’s appeal hinges solely on the quality of the sandwiches. That’s why I called Nick Iles of the Two Bear Sandwich Club to conduct a robust and informed taste test.
Foodstuffs says the goal is to keep the sandwich options “fairly simple”. I presented Nick with the current selection: egg mayonnaise (“a child’s sandwich”), egg and ham (“not very nice”) and the “gourmet” cheese and chicken (“quite dry”, but the winning choice.)
‘Gourmet’ means a hint of tomato, one leaf of lettuce and some seeds in your bread.
It’s hard to condense the key components of a quality sandwich into a digestible soundbite, but Nick observes that one thing missing from the New World range is texture. Basically, “it’s really bad bread”.
Let’s not forget that there are always people behind the packaging. Theirs are the invisible hands that slice and spread and seal so we can get on with our busy office lives. As food that is designed to be consumed in motion, Nick appreciates that these are perfectly “functional” sandwiches. But to his mind, form and function are not mutually exclusive.
“We should be able to have affordable, delicious food. To make this sandwich nicer is manageable – but maybe not at the price point,” he concedes.
Choice: no country for old vegans
Speaking to New Zealanders based in Britain, it’s clear that their range of options far outstrips the current choice in Wellington. Jonny and Emily recently moved to Edinburgh. The pair say they’re amazed by the prevalence of the meal deal throughout the supermarket sector, and beyond.
“Most major chains have a meal deal,” Jonny tells me. “Even Boots, which is more of a Chemist Warehouse equivalent.”
With more meal deal combinations in the UK than there are inhabitants of Aotearoa, it’s hard to imagine a time before your choice of lunch became a defining feature of your personality.
British meal deals are comprised of only three items: a main (mostly sandwiches), a drink and a snack. Jonny says that snacks serve up the greatest variety, from chips, boiled eggs and samosas to the more contentious yoghurt pots. Emily, who is coeliac, says even she is “astounded” by her scale of choice in Scotland. In our country’s capital of woke-food fandom, the lack of vegan and gluten-free options from New World seems a curious oversight.
Cost: the money or your life
Depending on the different price promotions on offer, one can save up to $2.26 by purchasing the four-part combo as opposed to buying all four items separately. That equates to an 18% cost reduction; nearly three times the savings required from government agencies this year.
From Emily’s perspective, much of the value of the meal deal is time – rather than money – saved from scouring the supermarket. If you consider that lunchtime breaks are mostly unpaid in Aotearoa, then every minute out of office is a valuable commodity to spend.
Most British offeringsare still cheaper than the $10 deal in Wellington, but we do get more bang for our buck. Whether that’s a good thing is up for debate, however: what we gain in carbohydrates, we risk losing in health.
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Health: a work in progress
To offer some insight on the nutritional value of the New World combo, I called dietitian Dr Rajshri Roy, an honorary academic at the University of Auckland and senior lecturer at the University of Sydney. She says the current options are “energy dense, but not nutrient dense” – meaning high in calories but low in vitamins and minerals.
“It doesn’t support long-term health if people are consuming this regularly,” she tells me.
Going forward, Roy is keen to see some fruit and veg on offer, plus more options with a “lean protein” (not deli meats).
Dr Rajshri Roy has dedicated her career to trying to build healthier food environments.
“People may not choose it every time,” she acknowledges, “but just having that option makes a healthier choice an easier choice.”
Last year, the Welsh government released plans to “shift the focus” of their meal deals after research found that most exceeded recommended lunchtime levels of salt and calories. Foodstuffs say they’re keen to “build on their offering” by introducing “healthy options” in the future. Don’t hold your breath for quinoa salads: what they mean is “water and fruit”.
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Verdict: traditional partners need a reset
Personally, I want to see a bit more Kiwi ingenuity in this fledgling meal deal market. If we consider British trade a form of foreign policy, perhaps the meal deal import should undergo its own reset. I’d like to think that New World could live up to its expansive branding and broaden our horizons beyond sliced white bread.
For now though, it remains to be seen if the Willis Street pilot will spread to other parts of the country. While this lunch option is unlikely to have you “firing on all cylinders”, at least you might recoup the cost of your compulsory commute.
Keep going!
The warming cabinet at Jo’s Pies (Photo: Preyanka Gothanayagi)
The warming cabinet at Jo’s Pies (Photo: Preyanka Gothanayagi)
Flaky pastry, rich gravy and slow-cooked meat that falls apart in your mouth. Preyanka Gothanayagi searches for the capital’s best pie.
They say you always want what you can’t have. As a child, this proved most true at the dinner table – my mother made the most incredible dahl, koli curry, korma and sambal every night of the week, but all I ever actually wanted was a pie. I couldn’t tell you where I got the idea from – an Enid Blyton book, maybe? – but I was obsessed with the concept of stewed meat wrapped in pastry. Warm, salty, oozing with gravy and cheese, the kind the Famous Five would eat on their way to solve an impossibly British mystery. I was convinced I’d join their ranks in no time if I could just get my hands on a good pie.
To her everlasting credit, my mother did try. One Sunday afternoon, she and my Appamma made me these delicate little homemade pies in a muffin tray, crimped edges and everything. I was so excited – my first ever pie! – and immediately bit in without waiting for them to cool down. I was expecting mincey, pastry goodness, but instead I got thick potato, chicken, peas and curry powder.
“Ma, this is… curry puff filling?” I asked.
“Yes,” she confirmed.
“And curry puff pastry?”
“Yes.”
“So… this is a curry puff?”
I was slightly disappointed, but they were actually delicious. In retrospect, my mother’s a genius. I ate the lot.
Now as a working adult, I have the freedom to seek out pies outside of our family muffin tray. So I decided to go on a quest to find the best ones in Wellington. I limited my search to the Wellington City Council limits, so it doesn’t include the remarkable Pepe’s Cafe in Porirua or anything in the Hutt. Armed with a bunch of recommendations from coworkers, friends of friends, pie aficionados and the fount of all truth that is Wellington Reddit, I compiled a list of nine contenders for the top spot. Here they are, ranked.
9. The Blue Belle Cafe, Island Bay
Pie: Chicken, cranberry, and brie
Price: $9
We visited the Blue Belle Cafe in Island Bay just as the sun rose on yet another workday – and we may as well have been nowhere near the city. There was a freshness to this place that reminded us the beach was mere minutes away. Burlap sacks covered a large feature wall, and the rest were punctuated with paintings for sale by local artists. Despite the winter morning chill, it all felt ever so homely.
There were more than a few interesting pie flavours available, but I went for a personal favourite combination: chicken, cranberry and brie. It was warmed for us while we waited for our coffee order, and it came out piping hot, the cheese in magma state. I burned my tongue on the first bite.
Overall it wasn’t unpleasant – the chicken pieces were sizeable, the pastry light and the flavours mellow and sweet – but there was a lot of white sauce. The pie disintegrated as I ate, so I had to switch from hands to knife and fork. Definitely not a car pie, but I would take it to the beach for a picnic on a cold winter day.
8. Super Deli, Featherston Street
Pie: Herby chicken with creamy sauce
Price: $12
Superdeli was a straight vibe. Firstly, the “u” and “p” were missing from the sign above their door on Featherston Street, meaning we were walking into “Serdeli”, which felt delightfully European. There were reasonably priced flowers for sale in baskets by the door, and the warmth was a welcome contrast to the cold and rain outside. Happy pop music blasted from behind the tiny counter. It was all a small taste of spring to come.
Immediately, we were drawn to the artfully presented goods in the glass cabinet. My coworker Marcus snagged himself a salted caramel brownie, and I purchased a herby chicken pie. It was a beautiful work of architecture, all high walls and vaulted pastry in a perfect, round package. A few sesame seeds on top completed the visual. I couldn’t wait to dig in.
And honestly, it didn’t disappoint. It took a bit of effort to break through the flakey, crunchy sides, but once I did, the herby, dill-garnished inner was well worth it. In the end, I flipped it upside down to use the top as a bowl, eating the filling with relish (metaphorical and literal – it came with a delicious tomato chutney on the side).
7. New World Willis Street
Pie: Mince and cheese
Price: $5.49
I was sceptical about adding New World to the original list, but my friend Em swore their pies were the go. So I went to my local on Willis Street during a lunch break to pick up their much-loved mince and cheese.
Going to the supermarket at 12.30pm on a weekday was actually kind of pleasant. It was full of other 9-5ers grabbing a quick something before heading back to their desks, and there was a real convivial vibe going on. Like an informal mixer, only we had to buy the drinks and nibbles.
The fact that New World is so close to my office, as well as the overall positive purchasing experience, probably made the pie taste better. It was nothing fancy, just classic flavours: a good amount of salty mince and gravy, soft, flaky pastry, and cheese mixed throughout – but it was better than I expected from a supermarket bakery. A trusty lunchtime option. The perfect unfussy road trip pie, or the ultimate hangover cure. Well done New World.
6. Shelly Bay Baker, Leeds Street
Pie: Mince and cheese
Price: $12
Nestled in the heart of the city is Shelly Bay Baker, which took over the Leeds Street Bakery premises in 2023. Their real headline act is their sourdough bread, but they also have a creative coffee and tea menu, as well as exposed lightbulbs that feel highly artisanal.
Getting a pie from Shelly Bay Baker turned into a bit of a mission. I tried in the morning before work, but the pies weren’t ready to go. I then came back on the weekend around lunchtime, and the pies were all gone, except for a few last mince and cheeses. So that’s what I got.
Lucky for me, it was a good option. It tasted homemade in the best way – the first beef pie we tried that had small pieces of celery and maybe carrot in the rich gravy. The pastry wasn’t standout, but it was serviceable. Definitely a pie to savour and appreciate.
5. Salut, Victoria Street
Pie: Gochujang pork belly
Price: $8
So many friends had raved to me about this mythical pie joint all the way out in Ōtaki that I’d been convinced I’d have to make the trip out – but luckily, the Wellington-famous Salut moved to Victoria Street just as my pie run was coming to an end.
I visited them on their first day in their new place. To my surprise, despite having cooked around 600 pies for their grand opening, they were nearly sold out. All that was left were mince and cheeses, or a gochujang pork belly that I’d have to heat myself in an oven. I couldn’t resist trying something new – after all, out-there flavours is what Salut is known for.
This pie tasted like something hobbits would eat, if the Lord of the Rings was set in Asia. It was classic, tasty pastry encasing bright Korean flavours, muted enough that it wasn’t out of place as a pie filling. The meat was well cooked, and unlike a traditional English pork pie, it wasn’t overly gelatinous.
I’m looking forward to more from Salut.
4. Dough Bakery, Lambton Quay
Pie: Mushroom and truffle
Price: $10
Dough Bakery’s Lambton Quay branch is one of those places you can walk past a hundred times and never think to visit. It feels quite wooden and minimalist, like a Finnish sauna, and you’d be forgiven for not even knowing it exists. But lucky for CBD office workers, it does.
The pie I chose was the one and only vegetarian pie of this venture – a mushroom and truffle version, with a lovely flaky pastry. Not that I’m against vegetarian pies, it’s just that I don’t tend to go for broccoli when I can have bacon and egg. But this pie might be the exception.
Creamy, rich, indulgent, flavourful – the mushroom was a fantastic substitute for steak, and so much lighter. There was a light pepper element to the sauce, and the right amount of truffle coming through. To my surprise, my fellow carnivores (read: coworkers) loved it as well. None of us were disappointed. It forced us to slow down and contemplate the veggie life, and I can think of no higher compliment for a pie than that.
3. Patrisha’s Original Pie Shop, Island Bay
Pie: Steak and cheese
Price: $5 small, $7 large
Patrisha’s Pies is a hole-in-the-wall takeaway spot quite close to the south coast. A formation of seagulls cawed overhead in the early sunlight, and you could practically smell the ocean from the front door. Inside, there were vintage-esque prints of a woman in a swimsuit at Island Bay. This place is local and very proud of it.
There was a range of specialty pies on offer, each more delicious sounding than the last, but the most popular pie was the steak and cheese. As if to underscore the point, the group of tradies who came in after us ordered just that – it would have been unthinkable to go with anything else.
There wasn’t much space inside the bakery, so I ordered a small (they come in different sizes, hallelujah!) and ate it in the front seat of my car. As piefiends know, it’s risky business to eat an untested pie in your vehicle, but this one performed beautifully. Thick, well-cooked chunks of beef, a good amount of cheese to cut through the richness, soft melt-in-your-mouth pastry – I had nothing to say. I just wanted to eat.
2. Arobake, Aro Street
Pie: Salmon and brie
Price: $6.90
I’ve always loved Arobake. It looks like the kind of place modern fairytale characters would go to for baked goods. When I lived nearby, I’d drop in for a takeaway coffee while walking to the city, and be charmed by the ladybirds in their branding. Also their cakes, which cater to a broad variety of dietary requirements and are also delicious.
But I’d never thought to look at their pies before. It took me a moment to spot them in a warmer by the back wall – and then another moment to get my head around the flavours on offer.
“Salmon and brie is definitely one of our most popular pies,” the person behind the counter told me (tattoos, shaved head, effortlessly cool). I was hesitant about the prospect of hot fish and cheese at 7.30 in the morning, but the people had spoken. That’s the pie I got.
Friends, Wellingtonians, I can’t tell you how good this pie is. The salmon is lush, comforting and flavourful, and brie is a surprisingly good accompaniment. The pastry held together well, and when my coworkers and I reheated another one for lunch, we didn’t stink out the office.
Get yourself this pie. You can thank me later.
1. Jo’s Pies, Brooklyn
Pie: The Homeboy (steak, cheese and hash brown)
Price: $8
High up in the hills of Brooklyn lives Jo’s Pies, a legendary bastion of Wellington pastry. The decor is eclectic, with chequerboard tables, corrugated iron, bright green walls rarely seen outside a Malaysian restaurant, and the iconic sheriff’s star logo above the window outside. Not to mention the race flag fluttering limply in the breeze.
But inside, you will find the certifiable best pie in Wellington. It’s called the Homeboy, and it looks like something out of a nursery rhyme. I kept expecting four and twenty blackbirds to make a break for it.
One bite sent me into a thoughtful reverie for several minutes. I entered an almost meditative-like state, staring into the middle distance while contemplating how I’d gone so long without tasting something like this. I sat there chewing thoughtfully, occasionally pausing to say something like, “Oh my goodness,” and “I am so grateful.”
The meat was generous and cooked perfectly, with a rich, salty, decadent gravy that was almost, almost too much. The cheese swirled amongst, creating levels of flavour. It was so structurally intact – the most ka pai of all car pies – that I could hold it vertically and without any leakage. And the hash brown – oh, the hash brown. It added a slight crunch, a different texture that was more than welcome.
“Holy fucking shit,” said Em the second she tried it. That’s putting it mildly.
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