West Coast Whitebait

AL BROWN & STEVE LOGAN
HUNGER FOR THE WILD, West Coast Whitebait.

On the West Coast whitebait are not just a seasonal delicacy - they are a currency with a far greater value than the price they fetch on the open market. Whitebait in exchange for a warrant of fitness or fresh produce is a great way to stretch the budget and share this delicacy around.

Timing our trip to Mokihinui around the whitebait season, which on the West Coast runs from 1 September to 14 November, we were looking forward to indulging in a pound or three of 'West Coast gold' while finding out more about whitebait culture on the Mokihinui River.

Whitebait is incredibly expensive due to its limited season, erratic supply and strong demand - it's right up there with other sought-after delicacies, such as truffles, saffron and Champagne.
Charles Heaphy, who explored the West Coast in the 1880s, observed that the whitebait were so thick, the dogs were licking them out of the water. Times have changed since then and, over the years, as the number of whitebait has decreased, regulations have increased. The first regulations were introduced as far back as the 1890s after people realised the commercial potential of the fishery.

Whitebait cooking competition at the Mokihinui pub
The West Coast is a long way from most places and, being 30 kilometres north of Westport, the beachside community of Mokihinui is just a bit more isolated than most. With a population of about 40, the hub of this tiny settlement is the local pub, which serves as a drinking hole, community centre and central meeting place.
We thought that a good way to meet a few locals and a few kilos of their whitebait would be to put up a hundred bucks as first prize for a whitebait cooking competition at the pub. So, a couple of days ahead of our planned arrival, we organised a few posters and started to get the word out.

We were absolutely stoked when we turned up on the Sunday evening. There was a massive turn-out, with probably more than a hundred people, young and old, and a few dogs, too. Some were from out-of-town places like Nelson, Christchurch and Kaikoura, many were staying in caravans in the local camping ground for the whole season. You could feel the enthusiasm and camaraderie that comes from everybody having a common interest - whitebait. It binds them, it divides them, and it's the stuff of legends.

With typical West Coast hospitality, the locals had gone to the trouble of setting up burners and the ladies had brought plates of food. There was wild pork, venison stew and an assortment of Asian dishes, alongside classic Kiwi fare, such as sponge cakes, asparagus rolls and savouries. It was a magical, colourful West Coast scene with a real party atmosphere.

Some people brought their special frying pans; others garnished their dishes with flowers or cut tomatoes and lemons. It was a serious business - more about the honour of winning than the $100.
The entries were many and varied, including whitebait vol-au-vents, a whitebait and goats' cheese omelette, and a few variations on the classic whitebait fritter served with buttered, sliced white bread and a squeeze of lemon. There were some great dishes and some not-so-great dishes. Amongst the latter was one aptly named a 'feed of whitebait', which consisted of a duck egg warmed in a bit of oil with two pounds of partially thawed whitebait thrown in and stirred until hot. Salt and pepper were not welcome!

The big thing for us about food in our restaurant is flavour, so when we were judging we were after something that was cooked perfectly and tasted great, with the right amount of seasoning and a little bit of originality. There were some great dishes and the eventual winner was Maria Cunningham, the owner of the pub with her Quarter Pounder Mokihinui style. Her giant fritter had a very high whitebait to egg ratio. It was beautifully formed, cooked to golden brown in butter and perfectly seasoned with sea salt and lemon - delicious simplicity.

Catching these tiny fish
It was time to try our luck at catching a few of these tiny fish. We've served hundreds and hundreds of kilos of whitebait in the restaurant over the years, but rarely have we caught and tasted it straight from the source.
The whitebait-cooking competition was a great way to meet a few local whitebaiting legends and it gave us the break we were looking for. We were invited to join T.O. (Tony) McGrath and Sos (Brian) Morgan who together work one of the best stands on the Mokihinui. It's been in their families since their fathers fished it together over 50 years ago.

Stands are prized possessions on the Coast and the 650 registered whitebait stands spread over 23 rivers in this region, are administered by the West Coast Regional Council based in Greymouth.
There is a two-inch thick book of guidelines and rules around the use of the stands. On top of that, each river has its own set of 'locals' rules' that have been developed over the years.

The Mokihinui River is not only a great place to catch whitebait, it's also incredibly beautiful and home to trout and a myriad of birds, including blue herons, tui, bellbirds, ducks and the odd wood pigeon.
'The whitebait season brings to the fore a huge amount of camaraderie on local rivers, and as much as you hear about the odd stoush, it's a very social thing revolving around the bait running,' said Steve. 'Many people return year after year, creating long-lasting friendships on the banks of the river.'

Being the type of hunting and gathering that attracts both males and females of all ages, the social aspect almost takes over from the fishing. But there's no doubt that it's the 'anticipation gene' that keeps people coming back, armed with stories of yesteryear and high hopes for bumper hauls of whitebait.
They all love to catch and eat whitebait and to have enough left over to give away. The beauty of whitebait is that it doesn't need to be cleaned or gutted - anyone can handle it when given some.

THE WHITEBAIT Stand
Whitebait stands on the West Coast are as unique as the people who built them. Most of the stands have shelters built with plenty of West Coast ingenuity from odd bits of building material, such as old sheets of corrugated iron, timber, tarpaulin and baling twine.
Many stand owners try to make them as comfortable as possible with couches and old car seats and some form of simple cooking facility. Most have jetty-like structures of regulated length, made of metal and wood, built over the river's edge.

The stand we visited typified many in the area - it's really three separate stands, which are fished as one. Sos and T.O. continue their families' tradition, working the stands together and sharing the catch. Along with the usual cobbled-together bits of shelter, Sos's stand also has an old fridge, a sink, a pulley system for lowering the stand and a great, rusty, old, pot-belly stove, which serves as a heater and something to boil the kettle on for a cuppa or to fry up a few whitebait.

Sos Morgan is a real legend - he's the unofficial mayor of Mokihinui and it seemed like he'd fished the river longer than anyone else. He's a local dairy farmer who milks 120 cows every morning before heading to the river, where he upholds the local whitebaiting etiquette. He has also been a commercial fisherman and worked as a carpenter at Stockton mine for a while. Sometimes, too, he is called upon to be a local caterer - if anyone wants a party they'll usually call Sos to arrange a spit.

Being an experienced whitebaiter, Sos has learned all the signs that the whitebait will be running. 'You can go days without any whitebait, and then the blue herons will turn up - that'll be the day you'll get whitebait,' he told us.
T.O. is also a pretty staunch whitebaiter and told us stories of his father and his mates who, on their best day, scooped over 800 pounds of whitebait out of the river.

Strips of white board, called 'spotters', are lined up across the shallow to the water's edge. It is easy to see the whitebait as they swim over the boards. 'It's incredibly beautiful to see a shoal of whitebait swimming upstream,' said Al. 'We only saw one quarter-of-a-pound shoal but there can be 50-pound shoals and when that happens the excitement is huge - it's probably akin to the feeling goldminers get.'

The rule on the Mokihinui River is that only scoop-netting is allowed from the stands - it's considered to be fairer than using set nets. Set-netting is only allowed further up the river past the registered stands. This rule tends to be the opposite of most other river's rules in the region. Most whitebaiters at the stands don't sell their catch commercially, they tend to either freeze it or give it away.

Well done, boy!
Sos told us that whitebaiting is all about putting in the time, 'If you don't put in the time, you miss out on the bait, simple as that.'
We knew we had to do our share of river time before T.O. would hand over the reins and give Al a go on the scoop net. River time consisted of watching Sos and T.O. patiently for what seemed like hours, presenting them with some local beer, listening to their stories and telling them a few yarns of our own. Eventually, T.O. stood aside to give us a turn - that's one hell of a kind gesture for a Coaster as keen on whitebaiting as he is.
With Al on the net it wasn't long before a few whitebait started to swim over the spotters and T.O. tutored him through the whole process. 'That's a good shoal down there, actually,' says T.O. 'Come up a bit, come up, bring the net up, keep going . . . slowly . . . move forward . . . keep going. That's a great little shoal . . . once the leaders run into the net they all follow . . . well done, boy!'

'It took a long time to get our whitebait, but when I did, it felt like I had struck gold, and it was time to prepare one of our favourite dishes,' said Al.
It's easy to fall in love with a spot like that stand on the Mokihinui River. Being able to cook the catch just two feet away from the river as it comes out of the water gives the word 'fresh' a completely new meaning, especially when the whitebait are still wriggling when they hit the pan.
We'd finally paid homage to this great New Zealand delicacy, enjoying it virtually leaping out of the river and into the pan. Meeting with some great characters, it was easy for us to understand why people do this day after day during the season.

SAUT'eED WHITEBAIT WITH FRESH ASPARAGUS AND BEURRE BLANC SAUCE

By Al Brown

This dish is all about simplicity and not overpowering the delicate flavour of whitebait. It's always a celebration of that time of the year when the whitebait is running. If you don't have both, serve whitebait or asparagus, but putting the two ingredients together makes a terrific spring dish. This beurre blanc sauce with citrus through is a great combination for any seafood.

Serves 8 as an entr'ee.

Step 1. Beurre blanc sauce

Ingredients
50 ml white wine
50 ml white wine vinegar
1 shallot, roughly chopped
8 peppercorns
1 bay leaf
100 ml cream
250 g cold butter, cut into 1cm cubes
salt and pepper to season
squeeze of lemon juice (optional)

Method
Place the wine and vinegar in a sauce-pan and add the shallot, peppercorns and bay leaf. Place on medium heat and reduce the wine and vinegar by three-quarters. Add the cream and reduce by half. Cool slightly then return to very low heat. Whisk in the butter piece by piece until fully incorporated and the sauce has a silky smooth appearance. Strain the sauce through a fine sieve and discard the solids. Taste the beurre blanc sauce and season with salt and pepper and a squeeze of lemon juice, if required. The beurre blanc will keep in this form for a couple of hours if kept covered in a warm place. Once it's cold it can't be reheated as it will split.

Step 2. Plating and serving

Ingredients
40 asparagus spears
400 g whitebait, dried with paper
towel
500 g flour
cooking oil
butter
salt and pepper to season
beurre blanc sauce
lemon wedges to garnish

Method
Place a large saucepan of salted water on high heat and when it is boiling, add the asparagus and cook for 4 to 5 minutes.
Meanwhile, take a skillet or saut'e pan and bring up to high heat. In batches, place the dried whitebait in a dry sieve and cover with heaps of flour. Shaking the sieve, remove all the flour from the whitebait, leaving just a thin coating on each whitebait. Now add cooking oil and butter to the pan and immediately add the whitebait. Cook for about a minute on each side, until just golden. Remove and keep warm while you finish cooking the rest.
To serve, divide the cooked aspar-agus onto 8 warm plates and top with a sprinkling of saut'eed whitebait. Spoon liberal amounts of the beurre blanc on each plate and garnish with a wedge of lemon.

STEVE'S WINE RECOMMENDATION
Nautilus Marlborough Pinot Gris
We matched this dish with this white wine variety related to Pinot Noir, which produces a spicy, aromatic, medium-bodied wine with a bit of fresh acidity. It's a good match for our relatively light dish of asparagus and whitebait saut'e, as the wine's oily texture complements the buttery sauce, while its acidity cuts through the richness of the dish.

This is an extract from Al and Steve's wonderful book, Hunger for the Wild. Available in good bookstores nationwide.