St Peter's Anglican Church parishioners John Freebairn (left) and Mike Charles were on greeting duties at the fair. John is holding his jack russell west highland cross Archie. Photo / Judith Lacy
OPINION
I was born not with a silver spoon in my mouth but the Anglican Church. In my early 30s I took that spoon out and it has sat in a drawer ever since. Notin the rubbish or recycling, mind.
As a child, I remember St George's fairs at Patea where the meat was the blink-and-you'll-miss-it stall. Mum made copious amounts of fudge and coconut ice for the fairs and I was always there to lick the spoon and bowl!
In my mid- and late-20s I used to staff the book stall at St Anne's fairs. Dealers would try and get in before the fair in the Wellington suburb of Northland opened and also attempt to pull the wool over your eyes about prices. It was full-on but I loved discovering old recipe books and many an item for my flatting kitchen essentials came from the fairs.
Going to St Peter's Anglican Church's twice-yearly fairs is like having access to the kitchens, gardens and garages of many, many people. Not just any people, but Palmy people who are much more talented and generous than me.
My first stop at St Peter's fair last Saturday was the home baking. In a sign that the times are indeed a-changing, banana cakes made by vicar Stuart Goodin were for sale. "These cakes were made by the vicar so they are holy," one of the stallholders quipped.
Chocolate fudge slice caught my eye and at eight pieces for $5 was a real bargain, as was everything I saw. For morning tea, I tried some chicken sandwiches for $2 each. These weren't some dainty things that made you think you needed to play ladies, but slices of French bread and a paste of chicken, crushed cashew nuts, spring onions and mayo on top. Yum, yum. Conceived by a woman with a home economics background and definitely something to try at home.
Something to not try at home or anywhere is when answering a question about the Christmas parade batting your plate of said sandwiches and sending them flying into the woman sitting next to you. Thankfully, she had an apron on.
I don't recall music being a feature of church fairs I'd attended years ago but pianist Robert Cleaver was back with his cheery smile and music on his tablet - more modernism. He was preceded by a most impressive Tongan band, whose uplifting sound greeted me as I walked behind the Ruahine St church to the hall.
The trash and treasure stall was like stepping back in time. It would be a goldmine for those who can see beyond what is in front of them and either give the item a new lease of life or repurpose it. Me - I just marvelled at the box of fondue sets.
In another sign of changing times, lemon and lime marmalade was on sale alongside the regular marmalade, catering for the growing number of people who don't eat grapefruit. I doubt I'm going to become a modern-day Paddington Bear but the L & L version is okay. Church fairs are the place to go to get real lemons, not the artificial, waxy kind at supermarkets that make zesting pointless.
The broccoli looked and smelt like it had been picked just a minute ago. I also came home with two bags of gingerbread men which I'm hoping I'm strong-willed enough to give away rather than eat, four cut cream roses as big as a collection plate, a most healthy-looking basil plant, and a large bunch of sweet peas.