Q&A: Taking Māori cuisine — and outdoor cooking — to the next level with New Zealand’s own chef Monique Fiso

Tents, fire pits and the great outdoors might not be the first things you think of when you consider “fine dining,” but Monique Fiso aims to change that. The New Zealand chef and creative force behind Hiakai, a series of Māori-focused pop-ups she started two years ago. The series is devoted to exploring and promoting traditional cooking methods and ingredients of the Māori, the indigenous Polynesian people of New Zealand; Fiso has incorporated ingredients such as kawakawa leaves and pūhā (a vegetable) in dishes including ice cream, pasta and crackers. And as the Māori-Samoan chef has worked to change others’ perception of Māori cuisine, she’s learned a lot herself.

I recently spoke over the phone with Fiso about Hiakai, the evolution of Māori cuisine and her plans for the future. This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Tell me a little about your background and what got you into cooking.

I’ve always wanted to work in serious, serious kitchens. I started in kitchens when I was about 14, and I went to culinary school at 17 and studied fine dining around the same age. I left New Zealand at 21 and moved to New York because I wanted to work in Michelin-starred kitchens.

I did that for about two and a half years and then came home. I noticed the lack of Māori representation in New Zealand, and so I decided to explore that with food.

Did your parents cook much?

No, they were not into cooking at all. And so it was quite weird, because we weren't a foodie household. I had parents who would work really long hours, and it was just much easier to go, "Oh, here's my credit card number. Just go order yourself pizza for you and your siblings." I get it. They were starting their own business, and they've been really successful.

So even though I didn't grow up with a foodie background, it was awesome to see my parents and how disciplined they were, and what it would take to achieve my own goals. This is the dedication it takes, and sometimes it means that you're not going to be home and you're going to have to work 20-hour days.

What sparked your love of food?

I just really liked eating. Everyone talks about how chubby I was as a kid. I would hang around the kitchen, and Grandma would always get me to help her cook lunch on Sunday. I was always around it, and I just found it quite interesting. I was just so drawn to it.

Tell me about your work exploring and promoting Māori cooking techniques and ingredients and how your approach differs from that of others.

Everyone wonders why there aren’t Māori restaurants, and I wondered that too. In my own arrogance, I thought that perhaps it was because the people who tried before didn't know how to cook very well.

When I started out doing Hiakai, I was like, “What you need to do is just cook these dishes better than the previous guy would do.” But then when I started really getting into it, and trying to get the ingredients for the dishes I had in mind, I found for many I coudn't get them commercially. That's when it dawned on me that, well, maybe there aren't Māori restaurants because first you need to build a supply chain. If you're going to go and open an Indian restaurant, or an Italian restaurant, or a French restaurant and you need to order supplies, no problem. But if you've got a Māori one, it's like, well you're gonna have to go outside and forage for all that. Now how inefficient is that?

There’s also a lot to do with the cooking techniques, such as hāngi, which requires a giant fire. So you're probably not going to be able to put that in the middle of the city. And there are a lot of ingredients that just aren't very well documented. So it takes a long time to actually develop recipes because all you've got to go off is a horticulture book, and , that's all very well, but how does it relate in a culinary context?

So how do you build the supply chain?

I had to go around and check different national parks to see what's going on in them and forage from there. The big goal I've been working on is building suppliers. It's like, "OK, well, this item grows in your region of New Zealand, so could you become a supplier of this ingredient? And obviously it needs to be more than just me who wants those ingredients; otherwise, it's not feasible for you. So if I can showcase the ingredient and get a few other chefs interested in it, when will you start doing that?"

How did you learn about the cooking techniques, and how have you developed these recipes? Did you have any mentors?

I feel like the cooking techniques were always the easy part, because you could relate. If you look at hāngi, it's similar to if I was to do barbacoa.

For me, the hard part was the ingredients. There are no books, and there's maybe a handful of people around New Zealand who kind of have a really good understanding of the ingredients. So you just kind of have to ask them, " what does it taste like? What do you use it for? What was it traditionally used for? Do you have any recipes?" And work from there.

But then I would always compare the ingredients with something else I've used during my career, and I sort of take it in that direction. I might ask someone about an ingredient, and they’d say, "Oh, I make a tea out of it or you can dehydrate it and sprinkle it on pork or something along those lines." But then when I would try it and think this actually tastes very refreshing and might be better in a sorbet.

You’ve mentioned the term hāngi. Can you explain what that is?

It’s a traditional method of cooking for the Māori. It’s basically cooking underground using hot rocks. You build a stack of firewood, and you put river stones or volcanic rock in amongst all of that and heat those rocks until they're glowing red. And then you use those rocks to cook your food. It's basically creating an underground steamer.

You’ve talked about the family and communal style of eating and how, maybe because of the family style, it's hard for people to appreciate the fine dining aspects of Haikai.

It's really quite interesting. I used to be really against the communal style of eating, because I thought that's just not fine dining. But then I realized it can be, you need to be really clever about it. So what I do is, the first four of five courses that we serve are very, I guess "modern" is the right word. It's similar to a fine dining restaurant, and everyone gets their own plate.

But then I like to break it up and make everyone interact with each other. I’ll say, “OK, the hāngi course is going to be communal.” And I think people will actually really appreciate it by that stage. I've already proven you can do all the fancy this, that and the other. This course is about something completely different and about actually talking to your neighbor and having a great eating experience.

There's no reason why a communal dining experience can't be considered fine dining. It's just about making sure that the flavors are on point, the execution is right and that it's worked in a way that it makes sense to the entire progression of the menu.

What are some of the biggest misconceptions of the cuisine that you’ve found?

I think a lot of people, particularly New Zealanders, say, "Oh, there wasn't much to Māori cuisine," and that it was really boring. When most people think of hāngi, they think of somebody who's just gone on to throw a whole bunch of ... into a basket and put it in the ground, and there wasn't any finesse put into it.

So I've taken the technique and just put more interesting things in there. And then I take them out and plate them differently, serving them with some very well-thought-out condiments and sauces. It's just showing somebody a different way of doing something.

How has your pop-up series evolved?

It's just crazy when I think about it now. I was saying earlier, I thought it was just a case of, “OK, well, I know about these Māori dishes. I'm just going to do modern versions of that.” And I think it kind of lacked a lot of soul and real understanding of the culture.

What it's transformed into now is just a much better understanding of the culture. The dishes have a completely different feel, and the series has a completely different feel. It's just so much better. Before, I felt the dishes were forgettable. A lot of people try the dishes now, and you can tell that somebody's thought about it.

What's your ultimate goal? Do you want to open up a bricks-and-mortar place somewhere?

The bricks-and-mortar is happening. Now I feel like the supply chain is strong enough that it can happen. And that people understand that there's more to Māori cuisine. If I was to do this two years ago, just straight off the bat as a bricks-and-mortar, I think I would have been closed within about four months.

The whole process has been awesome because I've learned so much about Māori cuisine and culture. And it's made the dining experiences better learning about the history behind the ingredients and the techniques. When we go foraging, we make sure we do it in a way that is in line with Māori customs. So we're doing it with a lot of authenticity and respect for the culture. It's not like we just go around taking bits and pieces of the culture that we like and making a dining experience out of it. There’s a lot put into it to make sure that we're doing it in a modern way, but doing it correctly.

With all of your exploration, was there anything that struck you by surprise?

What probably surprised me the most was, when I introduced hāngi, I got a lot of comments like, “Do you really think you should be doing that because you're a woman?” and “That's a man's job.” And I critiqued myself a lot. But then I thought, well, if no male chefs are going to do it, then maybe I should step up and carry on the tradition anyway.

Then I started doing some more in-depth research into hāngi. And I discovered through researching archives and early accounts from European settlers that it was women who did the hāngi.

But it made so much sense, because the men had to go out hunting. There's no way they could have watched that fire. The women would have had to have done that because it takes hours and hours. By the time the men got back with fish, or maybe some quails, the fire was ready so they could put it in the ground immediately.

I felt really proud, like, that's so cool of Māori women back in the day.And you know, just like, I'm going to make sure everybody gets this correct from now on.