When the revolution comes, the proletariat has been freed, and the wealthy Kiwis that sucked us dry have been rounded up, we will be left with one divisive question – how exactly do we eat the rich? Critic Te Ārohi has a modest proposal on unique ways to prepare our homegrown bourgeois.
Hard-boiled Christopher Luxon
As the top dog, it seems only fitting to eat Luxon for breakfast. Not only because it is the most important meal of the day, but because preparing the PM in the AM will aid in confusing him. Start by placing him in hot water (as if he weren’t already). Wait six minutes – or roughly the time it takes him to speak a single sentence – then drain, like our natural resources. Luxon truly is Aotearoa’s very own Daddy Warbucks, here to get our country bacon track, or whatever. That is, unless we have something to say about it. Crack the top off his egg-shaped head, splitting him neatly like the left vote. Watch out, though; this egg owns seven houses worth a total of 21 million dollars. But hey, if a taxpayer-funded supplement is involved, he may claim to be barn-raised instead of free range.
Pair with: Sliced and toasted Winston Peters and David Seymour (cutting off their upper crusts). Wash down with an Air New Zealand lolly.
Taffied Kim Dotcom
Whether or not Kim Dotcom belongs on this list is up for debate, though we seem unable to rid this man from our collective consciousness after he paid his way into a New Zealand citizenship. Kim and his 35 million dollar rural Auckland mansion seem to have stuck to our country’s memory like a semi-forgotten lolly melted into a jacket pocket – occasionally resurfacing when something slimy goes down, but mostly fading into the sugary recesses. To match his sticky tendencies, he can be stretched, sugared and melted into an unbranded, non-infringing candied foodstuff. Next, extradite to someone’s pocket on a hot summer's day.
Pair with: A sticky keyboard.
Stewed Peter Jackson
As the fourth highest grossing filmmaker of all time, Peter Jackson is perhaps the most famous wealthy person in New Zealand — therefore deserving of special treatment. The Lord of the Rings films offers a buffet of Peter-themed options; a whole three-course trilogy of a meal, though it will mostly be tasteless filler (extended version). He’s so versatile: boil him, mash him, stick him in a stew. Shit, if we really stretch it we might have enough for a second breakfast. Peter Jackson will truly provide for the masses.
Pair with: Lembas bread.
Minced Mad Butcher
Sir (yes, sir) Peter Charles Leitch – aka The Mad Butcher – is one of Aotearoa’s most iconic businessmen. His face is plastered all over the country, providing us with locally grown, semi-reasonably priced meat. We at Critic Te Ārohi want Sir Butcher to be able to continue his passion of providing meat to Kiwis, and suggest enlisting one of his well-trained (and hopefully well-paid) butchers to make some lovely 100% NZ-grown sausages for us. A true kiwi delicacy to be enjoyed as we bask in a post-revolutionary world. You can’t beat the cost of living crisis.
Pair with: The cheapest white bread you can find, coated in tomato sauce and fried onions.
Filleted Bob Jones
While the name Bob Jones might not mean much to our generation, just ask your parents and they’ll enlighten you on the political activities of our country's 10th wealthiest man. With such fun opinions as suggesting Waitangi Day be renamed ‘Māori Gratitude Day’, it’s only fitting we show Bob Jones just how grateful we really are. By grating him to a pulp. In 1985, Bob Jones was fishing in Taupo when he was interrupted by a reporter, who he then punched in the face. After being fined $1000 for assault, he asked the judge if he could pay $2000 to do it again. As journalism is currently under attack, Critic takes this personally, and suggests that this special, special man be grated, filleted, and then grated again, creating a nutritious chum to feed back to the fishes. Thanks Bob, you’re a real catch.
Pair with: A nice squeeze of lemon.
Vintage Blend Brian Tamaki
Every natural disaster, Destiny’s Church leader Brian Tamaki graces our screens to remind you – yes, you – that you’re personally responsible for the tragedy. Especially if you are queer, take contraceptives, or masturbate. As Tamaki’s many tax-exempt charities beg his followers for tithings, Tamaki is known to live an extravagant lifestyle. When confronted on his luxurious residence, he responded that “jealousy is part of the promotion of God,” so in preparing Tamaki he should be kept in alignment with this promotion. Similar to how Jesus’ blood is turned into wine, Tamaki will be fermented in an oak cask of our finest and gayest rosé. The rich and bitter tasting notes of our 2024 Tamaki blend will only be enjoyed by a select few sinners.
For best results: Imbibe while masturbating.
Powdered Miles Hurrell
With the New Zealand dairy industry generating $25.7 billion in exports, big wigs like Fonterra CEO Miles Hurrell aren’t doing too poorly. Most of this milk goes to China, our largest market for dairy products, while locally a block of Mainland cheese is somehow sold at $17.50, forcing cheddar-hungry flatters to sneak it from dining halls by the fistful. As such, Miles Hurrell is best served dehydrated and shipped halfway across the world as baby formula. Rehydrate with a glass of our polluted water.
Pair with: The rotting carcass of our sheep farming industry.