A warm kumara and mussel salad is the essence of New Zealand kai.
Photo Elizabeth Clarkson/styling Kate Arbuthnot
There’s no other vegetable quite as Kiwi as the kumara. Since it arrived on our shores with the first Maori settlers more than 1000 years ago, kumara has been cultivated, stored and devoured, and it remains an important part of many New Zealanders’ diet. It’s sweet, nutritious and versatile.
Kumara thrive in the Far North where more than 90% of the country’s crop grows in the flat, rich silt plains along the banks of the “upside-down” Northern Wairoa River (always muddy brown because of the silt) and the upper reaches of the Kaipara Harbour. Alongside the straight flat roads that stretch from Ruawai to Dargaville, neat rows of low leafy plantings thrive in conditions that make it the ideal area for growing this tropical plant. Kumara farming is labour-intensive; every plant must be hand sown, then weeded several times during the growing season, which runs from October to February and March when it’s harvested.
The traditional kumara, Owairaka Red, with its deep crimson-purple skin and pale-yellow interior, is most people’s preferred variety. Two others are cultivated: Toka Toka Gold, which has a cream exterior and lemony soft texture, and Beauregard, a bright-orange sweet potato that was introduced from the US about 10 years ago. All have a depth of sweetness not found in other tuberous vegetables, making them a perfect family food.
When I introduced my children to solid food years ago, whipping a little kumara into the puréed veges ensured every mouthful was gulped down. As the children grew, their chubby fingers would pick little cubes of steamed or roasted kumara from the plate and I knew they were getting their antioxidants and sustaining their bodies with plenty of energy.
Today, kumara remains a staple in my household. It stores well in a dry, dark place and is always on hand for salads and roasts and to accompany evening meals. Beauregard is the most tender variety, and it can be relied on to be moist and colourful. Less dense than the other varieties, it will cook more quickly, and it’s probably the best variety for baking. Use it for cakes, breads and the many American recipes that call for sweet potato.
Red kumara are the most robust and more highly flavoured, and because they are slightly drier than the orange variety, they’re great for roasting, mashing or turning into chips or wedges. They remain my favourite. The lesser-known gold kumara serves equally well for most recipes that call for kumara or sweet potato.
Roasted kumara is the perfect complement to a roast leg of lamb. I like to parboil peeled kumara in lightly salted water, drain them well, then score the surface of each chunk with a fork. Then I toss them into an oven dish with two or three tablespoons of a lightly flavoured vegetable oil, such as grapeseed, that has been preheated for five minutes in a 180°C oven. After turning them lightly to coat with oil, I sprinkle over freshly ground black pepper and chopped fresh thyme or rosemary. Roasted for about 50 minutes, the kumara will be golden, tender and melt-in-the-mouth.
It is hard to achieve crispness and crunch with kumara. Restaurants will deep-fry pre-cooked or steamed kumara until crunchy, but unless you have a deep fryer at home, you’ll have to settle for a softer result. Grated kumara mixed with a little onion, herbs and egg makes great fritters. Another favourite is as a base for salads. Tender chunks of steamed kumara toss beautifully with other vegetables and shreds of ham, seafood or smoked chicken, and can be dressed with vinaigrette or sour cream and fresh herbs.
This salad is the essence of New Zealand kai: kumara, mussels, lemon, celery and parsley make a wonderful summer lunch.
WARM KUMARA AND MUSSEL SALAD
- 1kg red-skinned kumara, peeled and cut into 6cm chunks
- 2kg small mussels in the shell
- juice and finely grated zest of 1 lemon
- 4 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
- salt and freshly ground black pepper
- 1 small red onion, finely sliced
- 3 stalks celery, finely sliced
- ½ cup chopped parsley
- 2 tbsp finely chopped preserved lemon peel
Cover the kumara with lightly salted water and bring to a gentle simmer. Cook until the kumara are tender – about 15 minutes. Scrub and beard the mussels, then place in a large pan with half a cup of water. Cover with the lid and bring to a simmer. As soon as the mussels have opened, remove from the heat and allow to cool in the saucepan. To prepare the dressing, put the lemon juice and zest in a bowl, then mix in the oil. Season to taste with salt and black pepper. To make the salad, remove the mussels from their shells and toss them in a large bowl with a few spoonfuls of their cooking liquid and the kumara, onion and celery. Add the parsley and preserved lemon peel, and fold in with the dressing. Serve warm or room temperature with crusty bread. Serves 6. Wine match: an aromatic pinot gris.
Sue Fleischl of the Great Catering Company cooked a very Kiwi lunch for the Prince of Monaco when he visited Matakana’s Brick Bay Vineyard recently. I loved her golden-kumara salad to accompany barbecued lamb chops, and was inspired to create my own version.
ROAST GOLEN KUMARA WITH SAGE, CHILI AND CRUMBLED FETA
- 1kg golden kumara, peeled and cut into
- 8cm chunks
- 4 tbsp light vegetable oil
- Salt and freshly ground black pepper
- 2 chillies, finely sliced
- 8 cloves garlic, slightly crushed but skins left on
- 2 tbsp fresh sage leaves
- 100g crumbled feta cheese
Preheat the oven to 180°C. Place the kumara chunks in a saucepan, cover with cold water, then simmer for 10 minutes. Remove from the heat, drain well and scratch the surface of each chunk with a fork. Preheat the oil in a baking or roasting pan, then toss the kumara in the oil until well coated. Sprinkle salt and black pepper generously over the kumara and add the chillies and garlic and half the sage leaves, tossing gently. Roast in the oven for 45 minutes until golden. To serve, crumble the feta over the hot kumara and garnish with the remaining sage leaves. Serves 6-8. Wine match: Brick Bay rosé.