The hāngi memoir by Peter

As I walked I could see red hot stones being pulled into the pit.

I could smell the food it smelled like chicken, meat and smoke.

I could see the ash floating above me like a dragon fly hovering.

I could see the men working hard at jerking the stones in with big metal rods.

First they put in the tray full of meat. Then the chicken next the potatoes. They put sacks soaked in water then sheets and last of all dirt to keep the heat.

I was thinking what will it taste like as I left the site.