Author: hilaryemersonlay

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🎼”Bring Out The Best Foooooooods, Bring Out the Best!” 🎼

This may be the least interesting thing I ever post, but a lot of you were eager for me to blog about food and since I don’t cook and generally have little to no interest in food, this is the best I can do.

So I went into the grocery store to buy mayonnaise the other day. I know; hold on to your seats. This sounds like the beginning of an epic story.

But seriously, I went to the store to buy mayo the other day and I couldn’t find it. I looked next to the mustard and ketchup, because that’s where mayonnaise is, because all of those things go together. But not in New Zealand, apparently.

No mayo.

I literally looked everywhere in the store for mayonnaise before asking an employee for help. He directed me to the……

…salad dressings. (I apparently had not “literally looked everywhere in the store,” but why would mayonnaise be next to salad dressings).

Yes mayo.

And then there’s the slogan: “Bring Out the Best.” I grew up with the tv ad jingle for Hellman’s mayonnaise, which went “Bring Out the Hellmaaaaaaan’s, Bring Out the Best!“. Was Best Foods ripping off Hellman’s with not only identical labels, but identical slogans? The nerve of them. The absolute nerve.

That’s how I ended up down the internet rabbit hole of mayonnaise (that’s also how I just ended up writing the worst sentence I’ve ever come up with). I googled Hellman’s vs. Best Foods and found out that they were two separate brands: Hellman’s was started in 1913 in NYC by Kingdom of Prussia-born Richard Hellman; Best Foods was started sometime in the 1920s by California-based Postum Foods who seemed to be capitalizing off the wild success of Hellman’s.

In August of 1927, Postum Foods–later renamed Best Foods–bought Hellman’s. The products are nearly identical, though some claim that Best Foods is “tangier.” Because everyone west of the Rockies knew the mayo as “Best Foods” and everyone east of the Rockies knew it as “Hellman’s,” they decided to keep both brand names. In 2000, both brands were sold to the British company Unilever. To quote Wikipedia: “The Hellmann’s brand is sold in the United States east of the Rocky Mountains; Latin America; Europe; Australia; the Middle East; Canada; India, and Pakistan. The Best Foods brand is sold in the United States west of the Rocky Mountains; East Asia; Southeast Asia; Australia, and New Zealand.” (Yes, according to Wikipedia, Australia carries both brands. Aussie friends, please confirm or debunk this).

So there you go: the United States is culinarily-divided by two identical yet differently-named brands of mayonnaise and New Zealand grocery stores stock mayonnaise next to the salad dressings.

UPDATE. My wonderful friend Leah, a Kiwi living in Australia, immediately went to the nearest grocery store just to resolve the Best Foods-and/or-Hellman’s situation in Oz. She sent me this photo confirming that both brands indeed exist, side by side, on Aussie shelves. She added: “Did I go to the supermarket just for this photo? Yes. Did I then have to find something to buy just so I didn’t feel naughty or like I shoplifted? Also yes. 🤣”

You’re a champion, Leah!



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The Price of Gas in New Zealand

I just put 51.96 liters–13.73 gallons–of gas in my car. It cost me $148.45 NZD, which is $92.65 USD. Yep; gas here is $6.75 USD per gallon.

Actual photo of me at the gas station today.

The price of petrol (gas) in New Zealand right now is $2.917 NZD per liter, which translates to $6.75 USD per gallon. Yeah, I know. Yikes.

I’ll do the math backwards for my Kiwi friends: if you were paying what I was paying for gas back home, which is currently $3.264 USD/gallon, you’d be paying $1.38 NZD/liter. So if YOU had just put 51.96 liters of petrol in your car in the States, you would have paid $71.70 NZD…..as opposed to $148.45 NZD.

From my 23 minutes of heavy internet research, it seems that gas is so expensive here in NZ for several reasons. About 50% per liter of petrol is taxes, the biggest of which is the “fuel excise duty” that goes towards building and maintaining New Zealand’s land transport network. Then there’s the roughly 35% per liter for production and shipping costs. Then there is the war in Ukriane, with Russia and Saudia Arabia having both implemented oil production and supply cuts. Then there’s the fact that New Zealand’s tourist industry is finally on the rise again after years of pandemic lockdown and way more people are driving around.

Contrary to urban legend and campfire ghost stories, not everything in New Zealand is insanely expensive (I’ll be writing a lot about this). Gas, however, is insanely expensive. But at the end of the day, the “screaming Shelley Duvall locked in the bathroom” moments at the petrol pump are a small price to pay for living in such an extraordinary country.

PS: Yes; I have a car! And thank god it’s a car that’s good on gas. More on my car in a future post.

PPS: Math is not my forte. Even though these USD<–>NZD and gallons<–>liters conversions took me the better part of the afternoon to work out and I will literally cry if I’ve posted incorrect math, please let me know if I’m wrong!

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I’m sorry, your chutney is delicious on WHAT now………?

While I was doing the dishes the other day, I was admiring the beautiful rose from our garden that we’d put in an empty jar of Barker’s sundried tomato and olive chutney.

So pretty.

As I was rinsing off the plates, I idly read the label, which gave suggested uses for their (by the way, delicious) chutney.

These all sound so good, right?

Mix with cream for a pasta sauce: yum! Blend with olive oil for a salad dressing: brilliant! Use on an antipasto platter: great idea! Excellent base for pizza (yassss!) as well as an excellent base for…………..

HOLD UP.

MOUSETRAPS?! They’re actually suggesting–on the label, no less–that their excellent chutney is perfect to use on a mouse trap? That’s just about the most unappetizing suggestion I could possibly think of. My dream of using it as the base for a pizza immediately went out the kitchen window.

I took the jar over to Stu so that he, too, could experience the horror that was the marketing fail of the Barker’s chutney company.

I did not get the reaction I was expecting. There was a brief pause while he tried to figure out why the idea of using chutney on a mouse trap was so disgusting, and then went “Oh! Do you not have mousetrap sandwiches in the States?”.

No; no we do not.*

According to Google, “mousetraps” were originally a British thing but have since been mostly commandeered by Kiwis. To make a traditional mousetrap, you take two slices of sourdough bread and lather them up with Vegemite, butter, and cheddar cheese and then grill or press it. It’s like a grilled cheese gone horrible awry.

Things like this happen constantly in my new New Zealand life. Just this morning, I told Stu I was going to lie out in the sun in the back yard this afternoon and he said “You should use the squabs off the porch!”

Squabs………squabs…….you can figure this out, Hilary.

I did not figure it out.

Squabs are cushions used to give a softer feel to chairs, usually outdoor ones like patio furniture.

And mousetraps are dubious-sounding sandwiches which, according to Barker’s, are very tasty with their sundried tomato and olive chutney.

Me trying to figure out what “squabs” were.



*Let me amend this: when I say “We do not have mousetrap sandwiches in the States,” what I’m really saying is “I, personally, as someone who grew up in Massachusetts, have never heard of a mousetrap sandwich.” Whenever someone here asks if we have ______ in the States, I always, every single time, say “Well, *I’ve* never heard of it, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have it.” Because the United States is huge and kinda feels like it’s a bunch of different countries under one name. So I do realize I may get a few comments saying that someone grew up in Kansas and that mousetrap sandwiches are a staple of the American Midwest. When asked a question about the U.S., I always clarify that I am not speaking for all of us.

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Yes, Monty, There Really Are Stickers in New Zealand!

I have a lot of penpals, one of whom is Monty, who is three. I just got a beautiful handmade card from Monty in the mail. The letter starts off with him telling me with great assuredness that he knows where New Zealand is because he’s seen it on a map. BUT—-and this is very important—-he does NOT know if they have stickers in New Zealand. He enclosed some for us in case we do not have access to them here.

Monty’s hand-painted card
The awesome stickers he sent us!



Dear Monty,

They DO have stickers in New Zealand!! In fact, I just wrote you a return letter and enclosed a few NZ stickers for you. I’m sending you stickers of the famous New Zealand silver fern, a tui (“too-ee”) bird, and a pōhutukawa blossom. Tuis have a wonderful call, and pōhutukawas are called the “New Zealand Christmas Tree” because they produce beautiful red blossoms around Christmastime.

Thanks for the letter, Monty! I can’t wait for my next one!

Love,
Your friend Hilary

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My Pounamu Necklace

Stewart gave me something very special upon my return to New Zealand: a pounamu necklace.


I first heard about pounamu necklaces in a New Zealand guidebook that my friend and I were pouring over in late 2019 in preparation for our month-long trip the following March. The guidebook’s very brief explanation was that “pounamu” (a te reo Māori word, pronounced “pu-na-mu”) necklaces are almost always carved from nephrite jade, occasionally referred to as “greenstone.” You see them everywhere around NZ, from cheap knockoffs in tourist shops to real handcrafted ones made in an artist’s studio.

The thing I love so much about them is that you cannot buy yourself a pounamu necklace. You must be given one.

A pounamu is a significant gift to receive, as they are considered precious and therefore aren’t gifted lightly (and they can also be expensive). You may be given one to mark a special occasion–a friend of mine received one when they left their job of many years–or you may have the honor/honour of being the recipient of a pounamu because, for example, you have finally made it back to New Zealand after having been away for so long. ☺️

Real pounamu necklaces are hand-carved, one of a kind works of art. Jade has long played a significant role in Māori culture and is considered a taonga (treasure). Some of the traditional pounamu shapes are hei matau (fish hook), a pikorua (twist), a koru (spiral shape representing an unfolding silver fern), a whale’s tail, or a simple circle.

The necklace Stu gave me was made by an artist in Kūaotunu, a tiny little town about 20 minutes north of Whitianga. My pounamu is shaped like a toki, a Māori woodcutting tool similar to an axe. It represents courage, determination, success, and bravery, all of which I will need in spades on my journey towards becoming a permanent resident of this incredible country.

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I’m here!

Me and Stewart down at Auckland harbor (“harbour”)

I made it! (I actually made it four days ago but we spent two days in Auckland and then I had to get settled). Anyway: I made it!

Stewart and I spent two days in Auckland when I flew in. January 1st & 2nd are public holidays here, and lots of businesses close for the whole week to allow for employee vacations (“holidays”), so there were a number of places that weren’t open. But the upside is that we had the city to ourselves, and spent our time exploring on foot.

One event of note that I have to share is when were walking across a bridge at the harbor (“harbour”) when a loud alarm sounded, which Stu said sounded like a fire alarm. He suggested we should stay put in case they needed to evacuate a building (it sounded like a fire alarm) and I of course wanted to stay put to watch the drama. And then after a few seconds a voice came over the loudspeaker and said “GET. OFF. THE. BRIDGE.” We looked around and realized everyone else had gotten off the bridge, apparently having read the BIG SIGNS saying that the bridge raises up to allow boats out. Oops. 😬

Auckland from the harbor/harbour. FYI the alarm means to get off the bridge.

I haven’t gotten out and about much yet, so I don’t have any of those “😍” New Zealand photos to post, but I do have some pictures of the absolutely charming little garden at the back of the absolutely charming little house we’re renting.

I met one of our next door neighbors yesterday when I spotted her tuxedo cat through the fence (I’m obsessed with tuxedo cats) and ran over and proceeded to “psstpsst!” it and lure it over so that I could take its picture, and suddenly this nice woman poked her head around the corner of her house and went “Oh! Hello!”. Great way to make a new friend, by stalking their cat through the fence. Anyway, both Mars and her owner are lovely. The former is a little shy, but I’ll make her love me if it’s the last thing I do.

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Bon Matin de Papeete, Tahiti!

This is the view from the adorable little open courtyard at the Faa’a International Airport in Papeete, Tahiti where I am currently:

1. Drinking a hot coffee (it’s 6:15 am and I’m trying to pep up for the last leg of my journey)
2. Sweating to death
3. Blogging from the airport like some insipid influencer. Lord forgive me.

I had the best flight.
I know; when do you ever hear anyone say that? But it’s true. I was on a gigantic Boeing 787 with cheerful Polynesian Islands-inspired fabric, lots of leg room, and extremely kind Air Tahiti Nui attendants with big smiles, light-up “Happy New Year” tiaras, and flowers behind their ears. I was settling into my aisle seat in the middle row (three rows of three) when I realized that the attendants were starting to make final preparations for takeoff…..with no one else seated in my row, or even close to me at all. Whaaaaaat. This was a dream come true; a not-full giant airplane for an 8 hour flight and an entire row to myself. I was trying to figure out of I was allowed to use all three seats when the attendants started coming around and inviting people to move to empty rows (again, when does that ever happen?!). Literally my best-case flight scenario, especially since I hold the irrational yet firm belief that the fewer the people on the flight, the less the plane weighs and therefore the less likely it is to fall out of the sky (tell me I am not alone here?).

So I put up the arm rests, opened two of the three little complimentary blankets, stacked up the three little complimentary pillows, made a nest, watched the first 6 minutes of “Meg 2,” and fell asleep (sorry, Jason Statham, not even you could keep my eyes open in such a cozy little fort). I only woke up once, to the captain saying “Au nom de notre équipage, je vous souhaite à tous une bonne année!………….[awkward pause]………….Happy New Year. It is now 2024.” It was a bit anticlimactic when no one responded but then one person did one of those lackluster little “Woohoos”, and someone else joined in, and then everyone was clapping and wishing one another a bonne année/Happy New Year.

I’m thinking that this dreamy flight was the universe’s way of apologizing for that 2022 flight to NZ when my phone was stolen and then everyone at the San Fran airport except myself and my fellow Fiji Air passengers was evacuated due to a bomb threat.

The disbelief at the possibility of an entire row to msyelf.
The nest.

I walked off the plane in Papeete, Tahiti and was immediately drenched in sweat. It’s 80 degrees here with 85% humidity and I was in corduroys and a hoodie. After freshening up and changing into something more weather-appropriate, I paid 800 something ($800?)* for a flat white (the closest thing Oceania has to a coffee as we Americans know it; essentially a delicious, creamy latté) and am now settled into a corner of the adorable little open courtyard awaiting my 5.5 hour flight to Auckland, which departs in about three hours.

Merçi beauCOUP, Ait Tahiti Nui, et Bonne Année!

*CFP: French Pacific Franc. 800 CFP is $7.39.

PS: I know my photo-vs-text formatting is wonky. I’ll work on it!

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Let’s Do The Time Warp!

For the second year in a row, I’m flying out of the States at 11 PM on December 31st and arriving in New Zealand on the afternoon of January 2nd (due to the time difference). Which means that for the second year in a row, I’m completely missing January 1st. But 2024 is a leap year, so now I’ll only be one day behind for the rest of my life as opposed to two!

This time I’m flying from Los Angeles to Tahiti to New Zealand (I’m posting a map is because I personally had no idea where Tahiti was). I was ecstatic to find out that Los Angeles to Tahiti is only 8 hours, and Tahiti to Auckland is only 5.5. Usually the first leg is 12-13 hours and the second one is 3. This is so much better.

Last year, my absolutely ridiculous flight pattern was Boston–>Toronto–>Vancouver–>Auckland. Yes, you’re readying that correctly: I went north, flew aaaaaaallthe way across Canada, and then flew aaaaaaall the way south to NZ. It was the cheapest flight I could find, for obvious reasons, though I did get two New Years, one while flying over Canada and one somewhere over the Pacific. (Whenever I book a flight, I always think about comedian Mike Birbiglia’s bit where he’s on a flight and the PA system comes on and says “Thank you for choosing Delta!.” And Mike says “I didn’t choose Delta. If it had been five cents cheaper I would have flown on a kite”).

I’ll be celebrating New Year’s somewhere over the Pacific in a few hours. Wherever you’re celebrating, be it on land, at sea, or in the air, and whether or not you’re even staying up til midnight, Happy New Year’s to all and to all a good night. May 2024 have wonderful things in store for all of us!

Onwards and upwards (literally), lotsa love, and talk to you all on the flip side,

Hilary ❤️

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Anyone Who Is Even Remotely Considering Moving to New Zealand Needs to Buy This Book.

Best $5.97 you’ll ever spend. Seriously. She covers everything from immigration to healthcare to banking and finances to dealing with homesickness to the cost of living to whether or not you can and should bring your pets with you…..you name it. And she’s a terrific writer, so it’s entertaining as well as informative.

I’ll likely be sprinkling in references to this book as I chronicle my visa journey on this blog. Cheers, Melissa, for penning such a comprehensive and highly enjoyable resource!

(As the author states throughout the book, she is not a licensed immigration or financial or what-have-you advisor. She’s just an American woman who moved to NZ ten years ago and took really, really good notes).

You can (and should) purchase her book here.