Lockdown life of a foodie

Dining out in Auckland’s level 3 means picnics, takeaways, savouring treats by the skyline, and remembering what it’s like to see and talk to people who aren’t your husband, writes Chamanthie Sinhalage-Fonseka.

Wednesday

My 7.30am meeting is postponed, so husband and I pop downstairs and across the little square outside our building to Stolen Summer, our favourite morning coffee spot.

A (socially distanced and masked) line is already forming, so we join. After weeks and weeks of level 4 lockdown, it’s a treat just to stand in line for something other than our groceries.

I say ‘coffee’, but in reality I order peppermint tea. Husband orders one of their excellent flat whites (always fast, never burnt) and we share half an almond croissant each and walk around the neighbourhood before heading back upstairs in time for my 8.30am meeting.

As early evening approaches, we realise that neither of us has really left our work from home setups all day, so we take a break and head out again.

There’s a cafe in our apartment building and in pre-lockdown times, Dainty is open well into the early hours, attracting an eclectic mix of students, creatives, local residents and even the odd urban Twitter celebrity like Isla Stewart and Scoot from @ScootFoundation.

We pick up a bubble tea from Dainty and head to Albert Park, which sits right in front of our apartment building, and pick a spot by the newly-flowered tulips and cherry blossoms to chill until the sun sets and we head back in to cook dinner.

Thursday

I need to pick up a coffee and a snack before my evening workout. I have half an hour to spare, so I coordinate with my friend Audrey to hang out, level-three-point-picnic style.

Audrey arrives in a stunning floral pink summer dress and I am immediately aware of how much I’ve forgotten how to dress like a normal human person over lockdown. I vow to do better for myself in future.

We pop into Scarecrow, a specialty grocers a stone’s throw from my apartment building and immediately spot a masked-up Auckland Mayor Phil Goff getting his own afternoon fix. This sighting causes a disproportionate level of excitement for me, having been entirely starved of people watching (an important part of city centre living) for the past 10 weeks.

Friday

We are celebrating!

Our landlord writes to confirm we will be getting a sizeable rent reduction. This is wild.

But also: it’s completely reasonable, given rents have been falling all over the central city all year for beautiful apartments well within our price range.

We have lived in our two bedroom, two bathroom apartment 30-odd floors up, with sweeping views of the city and harbour for nearly a year now, and we are thrilled we get to keep on living here.

We celebrate with Hon Izakaya in the Chancery. I’m craving udon and husband is craving ramen, so we get one of each with half a portion of spicy fried chicken to share, and bring it back upstairs to eat and keep working.

I know I ordered the udon, but husband’s ramen looks so good so I strike a deal with him where I also get to eat his food.

Saturday

It’s Vax-a-thon weekend, but we are both double-jabbed, so we get in the car and head to Sri Lankan supermarket, Serandib, on Dominion Rd.It’s our first real excursion out of the city centre, not counting our vaccine appointment.

We crave Sri Lankan ‘short-eats’: rolls, pattis, and cutlets – but we arrive to find that they’re not available in level 3.

Still, we are delighted when the store manager greets us in Sinhalese and it’s a nice moment of shared connection with a complete stranger. I also realise how long it’s been since I’ve formed words in any language other than English.

Before we leave, I pick out a Bogawantalawa Tea Estate pure Ceylon tea. When you’re Sri Lankan, tea is like wine: the provenance matters.

Later, we decide it’s a nice evening for a picnic dinner. A week prior, my friend Elissa had told me about these oven-bake cheeseburger sliders from Farro Fresh that taste like a McDonald’s cheeseburger.

I haven’t had McDonald’s since 2011, so I’m curious.

We prep them in the oven, and take them down to Wynyard Quarter. It’s a nice night for a picnic with water and city views.

Elissa wasn’t wrong. These taste like the real thing. I snap photos of them with the Skytower for my friends Max and Richard, and then I remember I can’t tweet them until after this piece comes out.

Sunday

It’s my first time in Hobsonville Point. I tweet that it feels like some kind of medium-density urbanist wet dream (a good thing).

I do a double take as I spot South Asian uncles cycling in lycra and young families happily walking out of apartment-style houses to the local parks that are dotted all over the suburb.

There is a collection of cafes down by the water, next to the ferry and bus terminals, and we share one portion of fish and chips at Fabric. It’s a large outdoor area, and plenty of couples and families are doing the same as us. We are pleasantly surprised by how diverse the local community seems.

Just as I think that the only thing that makes this suburb different from the central city is that I haven’t run into anyone I know, my phone pings. Our friend Todd has spotted my tweet about being in Hobsonville and texts to invite us to their front garden for a socially-distanced coffee.

It’s a flying visit to Todd and Angelika’s to say hello, and it occurs to me that something as normal as visiting someone’s home is now an extremely special thing. While we are in the front garden, neighbours walk past and wave hello and I spot Angelika’s yellow coffee mug sporting ‘Nouvelle-Cale´ donie’ in blue lettering.

Monday

In normal times, I have one-on-one Thai kickboxing training two to three times a week with my coach. This is the thing I missed most under level four, though I’ve tried to make do with virtual training and the boxing bag I have in the apartment.

Level-three-point-picnic still doesn’t allow actual kickboxing with full contact (the dream! the bruises!), so my trainer has created an outdoor workout programme that sticks to the level rules but puts me through my paces for two hours after a long workday.

Everything hurts as my body gets used to doing this again, but it also feels extremely good. Allowing fitness in level three has made more of a positive difference to my locked down life than any other thing. It feels like a dream to get to do this three times a week again.

Later in the evening, after dinner, husband and I reminisce fondly about a different central city that we used to live in and find ourselves heading over to Newmarket to treat ourselves to Hamilton’s top export: Duck Island Ice Cream.

It’s the first time we’ve had ice cream since we went into lockdown, and it does not disappoint.