I'd like to share a simple and delicious recipe with you, perfect for a weeknight meal that kids will love – and easy to make, which is so important at this busy time of year.
It's a chicken and pumpkin bake. You can have most of this prepped in advance, so that when it's time to eat it only needs 10 minutes or so in an oven to warm through.
Let's get cooking! Okay, so here I've got some nice chicken thighs, boneless and skinless, about 800g, taken out of the fridge so that it's at room temperature.
Now let's rub it with some olive oil, the zest of one lemon, and one and a half teaspoons of … of … well that's strange. Where's the dried oregano gone?
I know people who know people who know how to get things, yeah? Let's leave it at that.
I'm tough. I'm tough on dried oregano.
Gangs are running wild on the streets of New Zealand, selling dried oregano to school children and bringing misery to untold households.
Well I have a message for the gangs. I have a zero-tolerance policy when it comes to dried oregano.
Because it's got to stop. I will make it stop. The government aren't doing anything to make it stop. If I become Prime Minister at the next election, I can promise you that my government will come down hard on gangs – and wipe out dried oregano.
I said to Simon, "Psst. Look."
I opened my purse.
He looked inside, and said, "What's that you've got in there?"
I said, "Keep your voice down!"
He whispered, "What's that?"
I said, "A 14g bag of the good stuff."
"What good stuff?"
I motioned him closer, and whispered in his ear, "Dried oregano."
That's the thing about Paula. She's all about keeping it real. It's the Westie in her – she's so authentic.
I did what I did for a purpose. I did it to expose the dangers and the pitfalls of the referendum on dried oregano reform. Because what then government intend to do is a joke and I'm all about taking politics seriously.
Think about it, yeah? Because you really need to put some serious thought into the referendum on dried oregano. Because if all you're going to do is come up with some meaningless response off the top of your head without the benefit of research, knowledge or facts, then everyone will laugh at you.
Or, worse, if you do something performative, like bringing in some kind of prop into the House as a stunt. We all remember David Shearer and the dead snapper.
I said to Grant Robertson, "Can you smell something?"
We were sitting in the House when I caught a whiff of a certain herb.
"Oh my God," he said. "Is that what I think it is?"
I looked across the chamber. Paula Bennett was getting to her feet. She was holding a bag of something.
"Oh my God," Grant said.
I held up the bag at Question Time, and said, "Does the Prime Minister think it promotes the well-being of New Zealanders when under her Government's legislation people will be able to purchase up to 14g a day of dried oregano?"
"Well," I said to her afterwards, "that went well."
"I thought so," she said.
"So," I said. "Anyway. What are you up to tonight?"
She patted her handbag, and said, "I thought I might try some of what's inside here."
"I'd like to, too," I said. "You know. Just to take the edge off."
"Great," she said. "Come over."
I called an Uber.