Over summer there are three certainties in Whitianga: the tide will come in, the campervans will double-park outside the Four Square, and by 5:30pm on any given evening there will be a queue outside the Whitianga Takeaways.
What’s new is who’s behind the counter. Back in May, Moana Cressey and her family took over the shop- the chippie on the corner of Albert St and Hannan Road “It’s been here forever, as long as I can remember – and I’ve been in this town 15 years,” laughs Matthew, Moana’s nephew, as he is busy making up a customer’s order.
It’s truly run as a family business. Sandra – Moana’s sister-in-law – works in the shop alongside her two sons, Matthew and Riley. Sandra brings serious credentials: years working in fish and chip shops in Aussie and NZ. She’s fully bilingual, fluent in both “fish and chips” and “fush and chups,” and able to switch between the two without so much as blinking. For Moana and the extended family, the appeal of taking on the shop was simple. Apart from providing a financial opportunities for her family, she says the best part of the job is getting to know everyone in town and chatting to the tourists coming through the door. It’s not just selling chips.
The family are looking forward to their first summer running the Whitianga Takeaways. They pride themselves on the freshness of the fish – never frozen, and never older than a day. On the menu you’ll find snapper, gurnard and tarakihi, with gurnard the most popular. Plus all the usual favourites: hot dogs, scallops, burgers people swear by, mix-and-match combos to get the best deal and $10 lunch specials. And there’s talk of more sweet treats joining the dessert menu soon.
At the end of a long day, or when you’re cold and wet after footie practice, let someone else do the cooking. A bag of hot chips and a couple of pieces of golden battered fish, or a hearty burger, is a Kiwi tradition – you can eat fish and chips anywhere, any time, on any occasion. And there are few better ways to spend a summer evening than a packet of fish and chips on the Buffalo Beach waterfront, watching the sun go down.
Now, a public service announcement: eat with your wits about you. This town runs a gang of feathered felons who work with the precision of a Special Forces unit and show no mercy. They can smell a hot chip from a hundred metres, they know exactly which picnic table you’re sitting at, and they consider your dinner fair game the moment your attention wanders. Turn your back for one second – one second – and your fish is gone, last seen heading seaward at breakneck speed with a seagull attached to it.
