Reports on Hong Kong dining

[prasantrin]

After we sat in the lobby of the Peninsula Hotel for a little while (I needed to recoup some energy), we headed to Central. Our dinner reservation was for 7:30, but we managed to push it up to 6. I really don't think I could have lasted out there till 7:30. I was really tired, and I kept wanting to stop and rest.

Once in Central, we went to a big mall (I can't remember the name, but it's attached to the Four Seasons Hotel, and you can get to Hong Kong Station and Central Station from there). We went grocery shopping, or at least grocery window shopping. You can get far more foreign foods in HK at a much more reasonable price than you can in Japan! It almost makes me want to live there! Not only are the local foods really cheap, but the imported foods are reasonably-priced, too! It's an ex-pat's dream!

No pictures of that, though.

I started to get tired (again), and I also hate malls, so we went to a nice-looking tea shop. Erin had some kind of hot rose citrus or mint tea. I liked it, and would have been happy with it. Erin liked it at first, but the more she drank it, the sweeter it got. They should have allowed it to be sweetened to taste rather than add the sweetener before serving. It was pretty, though!

I had lime iced tea. Once I mushed the limes in a bit, I thought it was OK. I mostly wanted the coolness of the tea, and I thought the citrus would help my cold. Then I realized that since I don't even like lemon in my tea, I probably wouldn't like lime. I'm a little slow sometimes... But it was pretty, too.

After our rest, we marched off to Yung Kee. Finally! Some roast goose! It look us less time to get there than we thought, so we were about 30 minutes early for our 6:00 reservations. People usually eat later in HK, but this was about right for my usual eating schedule.

What pretty menus! One regular menu, and one seasonal/specials menu. I can't remember which was which.

One last picture of us! But you can also see our tea (jasmine) in the foreground. They serve hot tea in stemmed water glasses. I thought that was strange, but Erin and Felix said it's the usual way in HK at restaurants like this one, but usually only at dinner.

The famous roast goose! We only ordered a regular portion, which is 1/4 of a goose. I still had most of my sense of taste, and I'm not sure what the difference in flavour was between this and roast duck. I'm sure I must have lost the ability to taste nuances in flavour, though, so perhaps that's why I thought there wasn't much difference. I thought it was well-flavoured, though. I would have eaten more, but when I'm sick, I can't stomach strong flavours as well.

Felix really liked the goose. He said it was very good, and the flavour had a long tail. He thought there was one place where the goose might be better--a place called Keung Kee in Tai Wai. But now he thinks it's not better than Yung Kee's, but as good as theirs.

Pea shoots were on the menu, but when we tried to order them they said they were out. Instead the waiter recommended these:

We also ordered stir-fried grouper (I think) with ginger and spring onions. this was my favourite dish! The fish was perfectly cooked, and perfectly flavoured, I thought.

And we ordered yeung chow fried rice again. This version was much better than the Tung Kee version we had. Look how big the shrimp were!

We didn't get the preserved egg (Felix said they asked if we wanted it, but he said no), which was OK with me. Had I been feeling better, I'd have been more up to it, but I don't think I'd have enjoyed it much that night. During the meal, I commented to Erin and Felix on how I'm always sick during our last meal together, as I had the exact same illness at our tea party last year. Coincidence? Or are the heavens conspiring against our parting from one another?

[prasantrin]

And it ends, not with a bang, but a whimper.

Day 5 was my last day in HK. My flight was leaving at 4:30-ish, so we were able to get to Central for one last attempt at dim sum. I checked in at HK Station, so I could get rid of my luggage, but that took a lot longer than planned (they were seriously understaffed at the Station airport check-in counters). We didn't end up at Lin Heung until just after 12! That means it was packed!

Peter Green posted pictures upthread, and that's pretty much what we saw, too. It took us a bit of time to get a table with two seats, but we managed with the help of one of the staff. All cramped in, we waited for carts to roll by.

That was our first mistake--waiting. We didn't notice till we had been there for a bit that people were getting up and going to the carts as soon as they saw what they wanted. But we were trying to be polite. Unfortunately, it was our politeness (or wimpiness) that led us to miss out on the cha siu bao.

Anyway, I felt really uncomfortable here, not knowing what to do most of the time (and this is why I didn't take any pictures here). I think I would have felt more comfortable with a local, and Erin's sort of a local, but a FOB local (if one year can be considered FOB). She's been to lots of local dim sum places, but usually with other locals, I think, who can take charge. At this place, you really needed to be aggressive, and neither of us are really the aggressive types (I can be when I'm annoyed, but here I was just uncomfortable).

We did get some cheung fun (shimp). It was different from other cheung fun in terms of flavour. The noodles were really well done, and they had a flavour sort of like tea. Erin really liked them.

We also had some shumai, or what we thought were shumai. Erin thought they tasted like beef balls. I didn't really like them. They were too soft and mushy.

I did try to chase after a cart which I thought had cha siu bao, but by the time I got to it, all the cha siu bao were gone and they were filling the cart with some kind of bao which I think had siu yuk inside.

The only other thing I remember having were...my beloved hum sui gok! As soon as we sat down, Erin asked a staff member about them, and he said something like, "Not now." But about 20 minutes after we sat down, he brought them to us! They were perfect--the casing was perfect, the filling was perfect...only one thing marred them...they were cold. Not just lukewarm, but cold.

Interestingly, though, they were not greasy at all. Just cold. Oh well, at least they were cooked! And they were perfect in every other way!

I do have one picture. Only because they were too beautiful not to shoot.

After Lin Heung we walked around for a bit more, then I went off to the airport early. I had read a lot about the quarantine regulations which had been instituted after the SARS epidemic, and I was a bit worried I'd get caught in that. Luckily, I got through without a problem. I thought I'd try to find one last cha siu bao, or one last cocktail bun (or both!), but I kind of felt like puking, so I refrained.

All in all, I had a great time in Hong Kong. I had the best hosts, and some of the best food. But I have to go back and have all the food I didn't have during trip!

Edited April 1, 2008 by prasantrin (log)

[Laksa]

We all know luncheon meat is just another name for spam!

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Ma Ling luncheon meat kicks SPAM's butt - any way you slice it! There's simply no comparison. Please don't mistake one for the other, unless you're trying to make trouble.

Luncheon meat was the beloved processed meat of my childhood. A meal (the luncheon, invariably) would not be complete without it. Whether diced and stirred into fried rice, or sliced and pan-fried until the outside is crispy while the inside is still moist and juicy, it is the meat-product-in-a-can sans pareil.

The only way you could improve it is by renaming it luncheon and suppertime meat, so that I could eat it twice as often.

[Fengyi]

Subways are very educational places in HK!  Here's another good one on washing machine safety.  Erin and I were wondering, "Are washing machines really that dangerous in HK?"  Dryers I understand, but washing machines?

[snip]

But enough of the sightseeing, here are a couple of pictures of the candied fruit on a stick we bought.  I didn't like it.  It was kind of dry, and it didn't really taste like anything.  What were these things?  They had seeds in the middle, so I don't think they were berries, but they sort of looked like berries.

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Hey! We've got similar notices on the Beijing subway which also forbid the carrying of refrigerators, desktop computers and such like!

I have visions of someone carrying a Maytag fridge onto the Beijing subway everytime I see that notice....

The candied fruit is 冰糖葫芦 bingtanghulu in Mandarin. It's really odd to see it in HK!!!

It's the traditional sweet of northern china - sold by itinerant pedlars. The fruits on it are haws, but up here we also get pineapple and banana and strawberry ones. Also you get the haws stuffed with walnut in upmarket versions.

Thanks for the pictures...the goose made me drool and drool and drooooool!!!!

[liuzhou]

It's the traditional sweet of northern china - sold by itinerant pedlars. The fruits on it are haws, but up here we also get pineapple and banana and strawberry ones.

I'm happy to believe they originated in the north, but they are available all over China. Haws, pineapple, banana, strawberries, apple, whatever - all sorts are available here in southern China, too.

Edited April 2, 2008 by liuzhou (log)

[v. gautam]

Rona,

Thanks for your hard work!!! Sorry you took ill. It means you will have to return, won't you?

Re: the yellow horned fruit: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kiwano

However, IMHO such glowing descriptions comprise a major public relations triumph of the New Zealand fruit industry: 99% of the time you will find this creature to taste of nothing or taste disgusting. Plus, it is an invasive weed, given the right opportunity!

Re: the snakefruit, it is the fruit of a tropical palm, the salak:http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salacca

Again, a note of caution: salak fruit can range from excellent to poor. Those harvested fresh from the equatorial islands of Indonesia are known to be very good. Many on sale in the markets of SE Asia are said to dry-ish, sour or otherwise bad-tasting. So, don't judge all salak by the ones you may happen to buy in ordinary markets. Wait until you go to Bali and get them harvested fresh.

[Laksa]

Again, a note of caution: salak fruit can range from excellent to poor. Those harvested fresh from the equatorial islands of Indonesia are known to be very good. Many on sale in the markets of SE Asia are said to dry-ish, sour or otherwise bad-tasting. So, don't judge all salak by the ones you may happen to buy in ordinary markets. Wait until you go to Bali and get them harvested fresh.

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I've read the same thing on a food blog. Personally, I've only ever eaten snakefruit in Malaysia, and it was a highly unpleasant experience. It smelled of sweat socks and bad cheese, dry and only faintly sweet.

[hzrt8w]

Wing Hub is at 392 Portland Street, and Guangdong is just a few doors down on the same street.  My friends' church is on the corner of one of the PE MTR exits!  It's a small world!  Which side of the station did you live on?  Not toward the red light district, I hope!

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Portland Street is to the west side of Nathan Road. I used to live on the east side of Nathan Road. A tad bit nicer. I didn't realize it's a "red light district". I always thought only of Wanchai and Temple Street - yeah, the exact same street (and section) where now tons of tourists go eat and shop for cheap every evening.

Back to the food topics. Re: sea cucumber. I love sea cucumber. I know their shape is not very pleasant looking, large or small. If the small ones look like cat's poop, then large ones would resemble you-know-what-just-use-your-imagination.

[hzrt8w]

As a special treat, we also ordered a little pigeon.  Poor little pigeon head...It was tasty, but greasy.  I wasn't up to eating much (sore throat, fever, congestion), so I just had a little while Erin polished off the rest (except his poor head).

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Why not???? Chew the whole head and spit out the beaks like all of us do...

Seriously, what kind of dim sum place doesn't have hum sui gok?  It's too important an item to leave off a menu!!  Do a lot of dim sum places not carry it?

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Did they just run out? Or never-ever had it?

[hzrt8w]

There was a mouse ear fungus wrapped in cabbage (I think) with another mushroom imbedded in some very tender chicken meat. 

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Peter:

The white, sponge-like piece is fish maw. The wrapper is not cabbage, but a root herbal vegetable called "Wai Shan" in Cantonese (not sure about the English name).

[hzrt8w]

There is a one thing I don't understand about Lin Heung teahouse. I see that it was featured in Anthony Bourdain's No Reservation. It was mentioned numerous times on Chow Hound. Now I see Peter and Ron had been there.

Where/what is the attraction?

Yes it seems to be one of the few restaurants in Hong Kong where you can still find dim sum and tea served in a very traditional Cantonese way. You use an open ceremic "dish" to wash your tea cups, chopsticks, and tea is brewed in a bowl with a lid, not in a tea pot. And the steel or aluminium water kettles on the aisle. In addition to sharing a round table with 4 to 5 other parties, (from the No Reservation episode) you probably need to fight with the others to grab your bamboo steamers of har gow, siu mai and char siu bao. When I see the settings in Lin Heung, it reminds of most of the tea houses along Shanghai Street (Jordan) 40 some years ago. That's how Hong Kongers used to "yum cha". (The only difference is they use "dim sum cards" instead of leaving all the bamboo steamers on the table. And hopefully the waitstaff don't sweep all the leftover skins and bones onto a wet ceramic tile floor.) Maybe time has moved on but Lin Heung hasn't. Maybe they chose to run it the traditional way as a means of attraction. I don't know. I haven't been there myself, and probably never will unless I feel like walking through a time tunnel to re-visit my childhood years.

Did you enjoy the Yum Cha experience in Lin Heung?

[prasantrin]

Ma Ling luncheon meat kicks SPAM's butt - any way you slice it!  There's simply no comparison.  Please don't mistake one for the other, unless you're trying to make trouble. 

. . .

The only way you could improve it is by renaming it luncheon and suppertime meat, so that I could eat it twice as often.

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Ma Ling is the kind my friend buys, I think! She showed me a can--white and blue? She said it's really good (as good as the stuff can get ). And I think she feels the same way that you do about it.

I used to like it thinly-sliced and fried so it gets really crispy, eaten with freshly-cooked rice. I'm tempted to try it again, especially since a co-worker from Okinawa gave me a can of KLIK, but I'm afraid.

Fengyi: haw fruits!! So that's what haw looks like! I used to eat haw flakes a lot when I was a kid (the little round disks). I loved them, but I don't like them as much now. Erin said the ones we had weren't very good, so I wonder what they taste like when they're actually good.

v. gautam: I think I may have seen snakefruits in Bali before. I thought they seemed familiar, but I couldn't place them. I don't think I tried them, though. Well, that's just another reason to go to Bali again!

hzrt8w: I just wasn't in the mood to eat any more, but if I had been, I think I'd have tried the head. Erin hasn't quite made it up to the "eating heads that look like heads" level of eating, yet. But give her a few more years, and I think she'll be able to do it!

I think the "experiencing HK of the past" aspect of Lin Heung is the primary reason people go there. The little food I experienced (other than the hum sui gok which was good but very cold) wasn't that good. It's also cheap! I think you can find equally cheap dim sum elsewhere, but for most tourists who will most likely end up at higher-end places, it's certainly an experience.

As for the hum sui gok at West Villa--Erin wasn't sure if they had said they didn't have it (period), or if they didn't have it (anymore ie. were sold out). We scoured the bilingual menu, and couldn't find it anywhere (we looked for both the Chinese and the English names). It may have been on the Chinese-only menu which we didn't really look at, but why would something like hum sui gok be on the Chinese-only menu?

Someone at another table what what looked like hum sui gok, but it turned out to be some fried thing that you dip in broth. I wish we had tried it, but we didn't know what it was!

A friend and I are thinking of visiting HK again soon, so maybe I'll have the chance to find out!

[hzrt8w]

I think the "experiencing HK of the past" aspect of Lin Heung is the primary reason people go there.

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Thank goodness that we don't eat like that any more.

Since the 70's.

[Peter Green]

There was a mouse ear fungus wrapped in cabbage (I think) with another mushroom imbedded in some very tender chicken meat. 

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Peter:

The white, sponge-like piece is fish maw. The wrapper is not cabbage, but a root herbal vegetable called "Wai Shan" in Cantonese (not sure about the English name).

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Thanks, Hrtz! Whatever it was (and I'll have to dig for this) it was nice and crunchy, and a real pain to eat the thing with chopsticks.

Basically, the dish was an exercise in deconstruction.

But it did taste good.

[Peter Green]

There is a one thing I don't understand about Lin Heung teahouse.  I see that it was featured in Anthony Bourdain's No Reservation.  It was mentioned numerous times on Chow Hound.  Now I see Peter and Ron had been there.

Where/what is the attraction?

Yes it seems to be one of the few restaurants in Hong Kong where you can still find dim sum and tea served in a very traditional Cantonese way.  You use an open ceremic "dish" to wash your tea cups, chopsticks, and tea is brewed in a bowl with a lid, not in a tea pot.  And the steel or aluminium water kettles on the aisle.  In addition to sharing a round table with 4 to 5 other parties, (from the No Reservation episode) you probably need to fight with the others to grab your bamboo steamers of har gow, siu mai and char siu bao.  When I see the settings in Lin Heung, it reminds of most of the tea houses along Shanghai Street (Jordan) 40 some years ago.  That's how Hong Kongers used to "yum cha".  (The only difference is they use "dim sum cards" instead of leaving all the bamboo steamers on the table.  And hopefully the waitstaff don't sweep all the leftover skins and bones onto a wet ceramic tile floor.)  Maybe time has moved on but Lin Heung hasn't.  Maybe they chose to run it the traditional way as a means of attraction.  I don't know.  I haven't been there myself, and probably never will unless I feel like walking through a time tunnel to re-visit my childhood years.

Did you enjoy the Yum Cha experience in Lin Heung?

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Yes, I would say I enjoyed it. But, saying that, I would qualify it to say that I enjoyed it in the context of how I was eating for that day.

And for more on that, you'll just have to wait until I finish writing up the Japan trip (otherwise Rona will hunt me down and hurt me).

Next: Goldfinch and a Porkchop

[BonVivant]

Lin Heung is the place for dimsum and that old HK traditional tea house experience. relocated to HK from Guangzhou in the 50's and little has changed since. so busy they don't have time to redecorate, their staff don't have time to take their holidays! i actually found LH by accident, last year. have been to a few other yumcha places but LH leaves them all in the dust!

haha... the pics all look very familar. a place in Wanchai has even better goose and char siu than Yung Kee, at half the price. [i picked up a free copy of HK food guide which i used most of the time while in town.]

still jet lagged and am nursing Lamma island mozzie bites

Edited April 25, 2008 by BonVivantNL (log)

[Peter Green]

It's time to pick things up where I left them, that drizzly day of more than a month gone by.

I have Japan more or less out of my system, but I still have the remains of that odd, quirky day at the end of March to finish.

Let's carry on.

[Peter Green]

March 31 – Set the stage

The rain continued. Never enough to quite justify the umbrella, but too much not to have it up.

Still, being a native of Vancouver, and having already abandoned any plans for video work, I shrugged and decided to take an extended stroll back to Causeway. Cold, damp, miserable weather, alongside bbq'd fowl just makes me feel nostalgic.

I wanted to see what was still there from days gone by.

Yes, there are still the little shrines to Kuan Yu and his “brothers”,

but with other culture’s trademarks showing up.

This gave me the opportunity to observe some of my favourites, such as the night blooming pitaya, also known as “thanh long”, “strawberry pear”, and a bunch of other names. I’d first been introduced to them as Dragon Fruit in Saigon years ago, so I’ll stay with that name.

And then there were these things, they remind me of a technicolour version of the pig bladders we ate in Chengdu, but they also look suspiciously like Strong Bad’s attempt to recreate the Blair Witch Project with Pom Pom dolls (hey, wait ‘till I start getting really obscure).

It’s been ages since I’ve been here in Hong Kong, and I was feeling nostalgic. The walk would be good for me. A chance to come to terms on a pedestrian level with the changes here in the Colony (it’s just a question of “whose” colony, really).

Much of what we see is the ongoing globalization that relentlessly molds the world’s cities into copies of each other. I’ve talked about the fractal nature of many American cities (Houston, of course, being the prime example, with replicating elements at any scale, if you just look at them in the right way), but really, we see this same element in the major world centres now, with a mall in Tokyo looking much like a mall in Vancouver, looking much like a mall in Hong Kong, looking……

Only the scripts change, not the brands.

Still, there’s character to be had. This is Hong Kong, after all, cinema set for some of the great films of our time.

The Lin Heung and Luk Yu tea houses are a part of the old fabric of the town, the material used by John Woo, Wong Kar Wai, and Stephen Chow, to name but a few. That article in the Cathay in-flight had reminded me of this, and given at least some façade of structure to my visit.

My walk took me to Jaffe, and Wan Chai. But would Richard Holden recognize it in this day and age?

Perhaps.

I had a look-in at Joe Bananas, but it was far too early. Still, the neighborhood was packed with spots that had the look of solid liver damage.

And the eating looked good (although I was saving myself).

The taste of things has moved south a bit. I was hearing more and more Tagalog in the markets and in the street, and there was even a background note of Thai (or Lao) out there. And most of the restaurants were advertising a hint of Isaan.

But there seemed to be a void. It’s a hard thing to put your finger on, but some of the life seemed to have left the city. When I’d been here before in the early 90’s, it had always felt like you’d just rubbed your bare fingers against a live circuit. Now….well, it just seemed as if the current had drained away.

A little too quiet.

A little too clean.

But perhaps it’s just me, trying to recapture lost memories?

Next – a number on a door

Edited May 22, 2008 by Peter Green (log)

[Peter Green]

March 31 – Darkness At Noon

There should be more smoke.

When I picture this place, there’s always smoke. It drifts lazily up from a half finished fag in Tony Leung’s left hand, his right holding a fountain pen over a jumble of papers on the green tablecloth before him. There’s a glass of whiskey. A glass of tea. Across the table sits Zhang Ziyi in a blue cheongsam, eyes fixed on her glass held firmly between her two hands.

Maybe I should take up cigarettes? Hey, we’re talking Zhang Ziyi here!

Days of Being Wild, In The Mood For Love, and 2046. A trio of films that sought to capture the lost memory of the Hong Kong of the ‘60s. Set aside the fact that much of the footage had to be filmed elsewhere (in Beijing and Macau and Shanghai). Together these three films are Wong Kar Wai’s masterpiece (in my opinion, at least). Beautiful texture and pace, and a feeling of being purposefully, willfully adrift. WKW made his reputation with these films; that is, that he could create beautiful set pieces with luscious filming, intense story lines, and a guarantee that they would run over budget and lose money.

You can’t have everything.

I can watch these over and over.

It’s said that they’d been filming in Shanghai for 2046 (seen as a room number during In The Mood For Love) but some of the pieces were shot in Hong Kong, and of those, Gold Finch was a primary piece.

(And they’re well aware of their claim to fame, with posters for 2046 and In The Mood For Love up on prominent display.)

It is the 1960’s again. Wood paneling, brown naughahyde, green baize table cloths….

Katsup in the bottle, and Worcestshire by its side.

And the paper placemat.

There are Christmas lights twinkling on the wall, and the bar is a small section of shelves near the entrance to the kitchen.

Gold Finch is about Hong Kong style Western food. They have a few Chinese items on the menu, but these are mainly noodles. In the spirit of the thing – thinking of sections 12/24 and 12/25 on the train (you’ll just have to watch the movie) and the cold drizzle outside – I ordered something warming.

A pork chop seemed the thing. And perhaps some escargot.

With your main you get the house soup, advertised as a borscht by my very-nervous waitress. (I seemed to make her uneasy).

A borscht. It hearkens back to the influx of White Russians in the 1920’s, fleeing from the last redoubts of chaos in Mongolia and Manchuria (and for a great little French anime on this, I would direct you to the 2002 Corto Maltese, from the famous comics by the Italian Hugo Pratt). I tend to link the Whites more with Shanghai, a late friend of mine reminiscing about vodka taken in glasses of ice, but there were plenty here as well.

One place I’d had no luck in locating was Queen’s Café on Hysan (just around the corner), which was Russian, and was the scene for the first of the three films - Days Of Being Wild. I was told later that the original restaurant was now gone, that they had relocated to new premises.

Borscht is a staple of Chinese diners. And it always looks much the same, be it here in Hong Kong, or in Bangkok, or in Vancouver. That is to say, it appears to have never seen a beet root at any time in its creation. Honestly, I would class this more as a hearty vegetable soup than as a borscht.

With the soup, of course, comes the staple of all restaurants serving both types of food (Western & Chinese) – toast.

The butter was a standard wrapped pat, lacking that imprimateur you find at such high class places as the Ovaltine back on Hastings in Vancouver. But to balance against that oversight, Gold Finch was also missing the crackheads you get at the O, so I’ll settle for no “butter” stamped in.

My snails arrived atop a plateful of creamy mashed potatoes, dressed with cheese and crisped onions. I winkled the escargot from their shell, and then tip the oil and garlic out to flavour the potatoes.

After some negotiation the waitress brings me the beer I’d thought I’d ordered. A San Miguel, and a sudden return to Earth after the Japanese beers I’d been drinking of late.

I missed Yebisu.

I’d had a number of options on the menu; roasted pigeon; pig knuckles; grilled fish; prawns and scallops; and, of course, steak. Also, the discerning diner can always choose to order extra spaghetti to accompany the meal.

But it was the pork chop that called to me. I share Steingarten’s reverence for pork, and of those many civilizations that have risen to greatness upon the rind of our small round friend.

I wasn’t disappointed. It came slathered with gravy, served on a sizzling platter that lifted all the garlic up and into my flared nostrils.

The pork chop was extremely moist and tender. This was a good thing. It’s too easy for a diner to serve up a pork chop that’s been dried out in the cooking.

As I cut my pork chop out from underneath its toppings, I thought on the films, of 2046’s dominant theme of opportunities lost, and then pointlessly pursued as they they recede into the past. Of Proust’s description of an old man washing himself in the same bathwater, over and over. When Tony Leung refuses to revisit the past with Zhang Zili, that sad smile on his face, it’s just about perfect.

I contemplated the dessert menu for a moment or two, but my straining waistline was telling me it was time to leave. I was carrying dim sum and diner about inside of me now, and it seemed best to depart while I could still fit through the doorway.

Tony Leung never seems to have this problem.

Next: Small beer

P.S. – In 2046 Hong Kong’s status as a Special Administrative Region will expire.

[insomniac]

ah, the Gold Finch restaurant...right near my minibus stop...it and Sammy's Kitchen (not to be confused with Jimmy's Kitchen) in Western really take me back....strange, westernish food and the price is right!

I've still got that tattered paper placemat somewhere...

[Domestic Goddess]

You had a San Miguel? You do know that its a brand from the Philippines? Even in HK and China (when I used to travel for business there) the preference was for San Miguel beers brewed in the Philippines. There are breweries now in HK and China but still most prefer the taste of home-brewed SanMig beer. I guees it would be the water or something that affects the taste. I wonder where your San Miguel beer was brewed?

[insomniac]

spot on DG, normally in HK you have to ask for a Filipino San Mig or you will get the vastly inferior local brew....big mistake for a beer drinker to make...

[Peter Green]

Hey! I was just happy to have gotten a beer at all.

My poor waitress was getting more and more distressed with every question I posed to her. I think asking for a San Mig from the PI would've been cause for melt-down.

Anyways, there's better beer coming up.

[Peter Green]

March 31 – East Enders

I used my time that afternoon to put up the first piece of this day in Hong Kong. It was just one of those moments when you have to write something, no matter how bad it is.

It also afforded me some time to make more of my room. The nice people at Jia had moved me up to a suite when I arrived, and it was quite an interesting place to spend some time.

Little nooks and crannies. Like the flaming turd of Asahi, this was Phillipe Starck’s design. Lots of white. A small kitchen (if, for whatever bizarre reason, I should feel the need to cook. Like Seoul, I have to wonder if anyone actually cooks at home here?), and a little reading area behind the television, a setee by the window. Good wireless, a comfortable bedroom, and a coffee table formed from a Qingdao advertisement.

Maybe later I’ll post a picture of the footstools composed of three of Snow White’s 7 dwarves.

But, with a modicum of time and a pot of tea, I felt more like walking the mean streets again.

But I only made it as far as the nearest juice bar, and then I realized that what I really needed was a refreshing beverage.

I’d passed The East End Brewery earlier in the day, and had promised myself I’d look in later on. It was still early, I had a fully charged laptop, and a nice beer on a rainy day is as good a way to spend time as any.

I’d asked as to their “seasonal” but it wasn’t to be had. So I went for an Aldrich Bay Pale Ale, one of two of their own brews. This wasn’t bad, with a reasonable start on the head, but this fell away to scum quickly enough. It lingered in the back of your mouth, and gave a fairly good showing for itself. Bust a some peanuts with this, listen to Zevon singing Werewolves of London, admire the rain, and I could be back in Yaletown.

Their other offering is the Too Soo Brew, a lager. This had a very crisp head, a light amber colour, and, oddly, no bubbles. It was drinkable, but lacked the crispness I’d look for in a lager.

There was a good selection of draught (including San Miguel from the PI), Tsing Tao, Stella, and Hoegaarden. And a wide selection in the bottle, with some large Chimays up in the back there.

The bar filled up around me as folks came in from work, shaking out their umbrellas at the door. Others were still outside, either screaming into their cell phones, or having a cigarette, or doing both.

In an article in the paper I’d picked up, one of the Chinese government ministers had held a press conference detailing how they were going to be promoting a healthier lifestyle for the Chinese. He then finished the conference, stepped out into a No Smoking hallway, and had a cigarette.

That had me feeling better.

Next: Dinner

[Peter Green]

March 31 – A Final Dinner

I was being lazy.

I was dining at the hotel.

Jia’s associated restaurant, Opia , has had a number of good review over the last couple of years. When it first opened it was a vehicle for the food of Teage Ezard, and his emphasis on Southeast Asia, with Dane Clouston as the executive chef. Now, however, it’s Dane Clouston’s shop, and their emphasis on the cuisine is “Australian cuisine with accents of Asia and the culinary traditions of Europe”. (I lifted that from the little purple booklet they had).

Chubby Hubby has a short piece on the contrasts of the two chefs, so I’ll leave that for you to read on his site. Plus, there's a lot more fun stuff there as well.

I entered from the street. There’s actually an elevator in the hotel that will open onto Opia, but there’s only one, and you have to get the right one.

It just seemed easier to go outside and then back in.

Plus, I thus had the opportunity to take in the entry.

Think “shinyyyyyyy”.

Coming from the sometimes austere whites of Philippe Starck’s Jia, this place is rather, well, overwhelming. “Swanky” is a term used in a lot of the reviews.

The designer in this case is Andre Fu, who’s done an extremely rich interior for the space. (He’s also got a hand in the new Jia hotel just opened in Shanghai off of Nanjing Lu). I also rather liked the glassed off (and humidity controlled) pastry section, which gave a nice contrast of industrial jumble to the place.

But enough of idle knick knackery. You want to know what I ate.

Well, first up was the oyster shooter. Japanese inspired oyster shooter with mirin tamari and seaweed green tea soba roll This is an interesting take on wheat free dining, as tamari is the “original” Japanese soy sauce, generally the soy sauce of choice for those on” a wheat-free diet” (according to Wiki). Then this is paired with a nori wrapped bundle of soba, wonderful for the firm starchiness of buckwheat (again, not-wheat) it delivers to contrast the nasal expulsion texutre of this fine oyster (I really do like oysters, but it’s hard not to take cheap shots at the texture).

For wine I started with a Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc from the Silenis. I’d really enjoyed their wines when they came through Bangkok a couple of years ago, and I’ll happily drink what they put in a bottle. (I really do need to get to NZ one of these days).

Next was kingfish sashimi with black bean dressing, crispy wonton, cucumber oil and shiso. It certainly smelled like shiso. Not a bad bit of fish, although I found the black bean dressing took away a bit from the actual flavour of the kingfish. Still, I’d been eating plenty of sashimi, so this should be taken just on its own merits.

After that it was a choice of sea perch with truffled potatos, or else a dumpling of quali and foie gras with sticky chilli relish, salad of crackling, ginger, shallot, and baby cress.

Foie gras always wins. Especially when it has crackling.

I’d switched to a sauterne at this point to go with the foie. But I really liked the last bit of sauvignon blanc I still had on the go alongside the chilli relish with the dumpling.

Like I say, foie usually wins. It was my next choice as well, driven in part by the presence of the sauterne. This was delivered as a char grilled foie gras with toasted onion oil, milk chocolate, caviar and baby basil.

I gotta admit, I’m not a big fan of stacked foods. They look pretty, but they don’t eat well. The first thing you have to do is topple it, which questions the purpose of stacking. Give me Sergi Arola’s approach of approachable portioning of a dish (but that’s another discussion).

I liked the milk chocolate touch. This reminded me of Sarah Schafer from Frisson, when she did a seared foie gras with peanut butter. Add some caviar to this to get the salt factor up, and you’ve got the makings of a snack bar to properly incense the powers-that-be in Chicago (is the import of caviar still banned in the US?).

A pretty little sorbet cleaner came by, spoon defiantly plunged in the middle. I would love to comment on this, but for the life of me, I can’t put much of a flavour to it now, other than it was citrusy.

I’d pushed back the sauterne for dessert, and now turned my attention to another Kiwi, this a Kumeu River Pinot Gris.

This was to go with the last course, a sumac spice black cod with red harissa dressing, queen green olives, mint and saffron yoghurt

The Tunisian-style harissa was a nice touch, the backdrop of chilies in it, along with the smell of the mint, perking up the gentleness of the yoghurt.

Plus, it was a very nice bit of fish.

I pushed back feeling quite well. It’s not an outstanding meal, but it was well-executed, the flavours all worked well, and there was enough playfulness in the items that I was smiling throughout dinner.

I retired to the bar for my dessert.

Dessert was a pavlova with dark sour cherry sorbet, chocolate and cinnamon sauce. As with the rest of dinner, I had no complaints with regards to this. The work was well executed, and it was a pleasant combination of familiar flavours to close with, touched up with the remains of the sauterne.

It was a nice meal, clearly identifiable as Australian. Hong Kong seems like an outpost of Melbourne at times, with Opia getting good mention, Geoff Lindsay’s Pearl On The Peak, and a gaggle of others. If you’re interested, there’s a tidy little article in The Age from last October covering a number of the Antipodean (and other) openings in the Colony, and looking at some of the “differences of taste and business” they’ve been addressing.

There. I was fed. And from here it was a small matter to get home to the room (I just had to negotiate those stairs and get up the elevator).