Rose Langbein at home in Wānaka. Her latest project with mother Annabel is already on its way to a sellout run. Photo / Sheena Haywood
When Rose Langbein decided to come home to New Zealand from Covid-stricken New York, she hatched an idea to create a new book of seasonal recipes — using ingredients from her mother Annabel's Wānaka garden.
About a week into the pandemic, I lost my job and New York just emptiedout. It was like a wasteland. My boyfriend Hamish and I were living in a tiny studio apartment in East Village. We didn't see any of our friends for months and bleached everything that came into the house. That was an intense time because there was so much political and civil unrest, with the Black Lives Matter protests and the [US] election coming up. We had helicopters overhead day and night. All the streets were smashed up and there were cars on fire.
It was winter and our window looked out on this tree that was barren and desolate. Then, very slowly, spring started to happen. Tiny little buds began to grow and, over the course of the next few months, the tree went into full bloom. It was so lush and green.
I think because of Covid, the world has slowed down so much and I've become incredibly attuned to nature and the environment. You notice those subtle changes and it gives you hope because you know seasons change. Life keeps moving on and, after all that loss, there's something to look forward to and believe in.
Living in New York is a young woman's dream. My mum, Annabel, had done it in her 20s, so it was the kind of thing I saw as a rite of passage. She stomped around Brooklyn, which was quite a rough neighbourhood in the 80s. One of her friends says she was terrifying back then, with her big combat boots and spiky hair.
There are a lot of scary environmental things happening in the US, but there are also some exciting innovative ideas. I'm passionate about sustainability and sustainable food systems, and I wanted to be a sponge and soak it all up.
When Covid hit New York, I was working as an art director for a big restaurant group that had a farm upstate and dealt with a lot of local farmers — my dream job. But that kind of restaurant model just didn't work anymore. So I started freelancing from home for a start-up appliance company, developing their whole creative side.
I began thinking about coming home to New Zealand for summer and I knew that I wanted to work on a new project with Annabel [their first collaboration, Together, was published in 2018]. So she and my dad Ted started planning the garden for me at their beautiful home in Wānaka so it would be filled with lovely food by the time I got back for Christmas.
Hamish and I Iive in a wee cabin, like little puppies in a basket, a stone's throw from Annabel and Ted. When they first bought the land here, about 25 years ago, there wasn't a single tree. Now, there are orchards and gardens and it's incredibly lush. Truly a sanctuary.
Right now, I'm looking out over the Southern Alps, which are twinkling and sparkling, and the lake is glistening and gorgeous. I wake up to the sound of birds, and I'm completely immersed in nature — very far away from the sounds of New York.
Food has always been the most important thing in our family. We light the candles, there's a fire, there's music, there's conversation. It was a way for us to all connect, even if you didn't like what was on your plate, which was often the case with me. I used to hide under the table if there was broccoli.
Because I grew up eating Mum's food, we have the same palate. One thing she's taught me is how to use umami to layer flavour, instead of just adding a litre of cream at the end of a risotto. Annabel is like a mad scientist; she loves figuring out the nitty-gritty of recipes. I love the creative art direction, making the food look beautiful. We both have these spider-webby brains, but I can also be incredibly practical, which I probably get from my father.
Our new book, Summer at Home, began with Mum planning the garden and then us talking about what was going to be in season. We wanted it to be close to nature and add value at a time when the world is so noisy, not just make something for the sake of taking up space.
I spent a lot of time thinking about a sort of post-war mindset, doing research on food trends around the Great Depression and world wars. I know a lot of people are under financial pressure, so I wanted to have a minimal pantry of ingredients and create simple food with great flavours, mainly focused on vegetables and seasonality. It's better for the environment and it's more affordable. It's definitely the way I eat.
I think it's quite a pure expression of humanity to eat together and converse. It bookends your day and gives you a chance to connect with people you love. In a way, Covid has provided so many of us with a bit of a reset, being forced to pump the brakes on everything and take stock of what really matters. I hope that we, as a globe, hold on to that and don't just fall back into old habits of mindlessly ploughing ahead into the future. This has been a very precious time for me, being able to come home, and I'm super-grateful for that.