My final full day in HK . Today I visited the Man Mo Temple which was again busy with people getting their devotions in ahead of the lunar new year.
Lunch was taken in the cooked food centre of the Sheung Wan market. These markets and eating places can be found in every neighbourhood and are a legacy of the colonial government’s largely successful attempts to get traders off the streets in the seventies and eighties – they are not easily comprehensible to gweilos (westerners) like me and I had to do a few circuits of the bustling space before finding an English menu. I ordered, and forgot to photograph, beef and scrambled egg with rice which was just what I needed. Hongkongers don’t like their scrambled eggs all that well done which was fine for me, although I suspect some of the cooking process is still going on when the food is brought to you. With a drink included it cost the princely sum of fifty-three dollars which is about a fiver in sterling – amazing value for money!
There was then further afternoon wandering.
I took my ease in a cha-chaan-teng café for egg tarts and a cup of milk tea – both HK delicacies in their own right. The milk tea is made with evaporated milk which I have a childhood weakness for.
I’m now out for a few beers and something to eat, before heading to the airport to fly home tomorrow lunchtime. I’ve enjoyed beyond measure the bustle and chaos and east-meets-west of this place, and am already thinking how I can work HK interludes into my future family visits back to Australia. Cheers!
My penultimate full day in HK. Today I visited the Taoist temple of Wong Tai Sin, where many Hongkongers were lighting incense and various other combustible offerings that could be purchased from stalls around the temple, in advance of the lunar new year. If I believed in such things, I could have also availed myself of a reading from many of the fortune tellers also located in the arcades of the temple!
I then travelled on the MTR (Hong Kong metro) to the bustling neighbourhood of Mong Kok, home of many watch dealers, where I may have treated myself to a little something following some reasonably extensive internet research as to the more trustworthy vendors. I was offered a seat as I tried on various watches and received several advices including “buying a watch is a tiring business” and “you can’t be a real Hongkonger without a proper watch”.
I also visited one of Mong Kok’s cha chaan teng cafés to experience fusion food in the opposite direction. Years of British influence here have led to these fine establishments offering a wide variety of caff-style food but with a definite Cantonese bent – my “combo sandwich” of spam and scrambled egg being a fine example of this, providing vital fuel for an afternoon’s Kowloon wandering. I might start a campaign to get these introduced in my favourite British greasy spoons.
I’m now out for evening bunkers (that phrase again) and making plans for my final full day!
I dined at Hay Hay Kitchen, 11 Luard Road in Wan Chai where I enjoyed a cold beer with my barbecue pork and fried egg.
Day five in Hong Kong . Last night I returned to Sing Lum Khui in Kowloon for another bowl of beef and pork noodles in that fiery soup that I so enjoyed the other day (see posts passim).
Today I travelled cross-border to Macau which was to be honest a slightly frustrating experience. Where Hong Kong is easy for a Brit to understand, I found Macau to be confusing to navigate with the ferry terminal being on the outskirts of the centre.
Practically it’s difficult as well as few places seem to accept western credit cards (in HK Visa, Mastercard and Amex are universal in the same way as they are at home), preferring the Chinese payment systems that are based around QR codes but need to be tied to a local bank account, or a system completely proprietary to Macau that again requires you to have a local bank account. I was finally able to pay for something in cash with HK dollars to get Macanese Patacas as change.
The Portuguese architecture that is probably worth seeing isn’t easily walkable from the ferry terminal in the time I had so I spent most of my time wandering around various unlovely 1960s shopping arcades and the all-enveloping Vegas-style casinos which were of little interest to me.
As someone who does much of their tourism by walking around it was a bit of a disappointment and I would have probably benefited from some slightly better planning.
That said we are all the richer for the experiences we choose to take! I was however pleased to get back to Wan Chai for evening bunkers in a pub I had come to quite enjoy.
Day four in HK, and a visit to the Kowloon Walled City park. The Kowloon Walled City was a Chinese military outpost that despite being in Kowloon never entered into British possession, however because of that possession covering everything around it could also not be used by the Chinese. It thus became something of a grey area and the home of one of the densest unofficial settlements anywhere. Surviving numerous attempts to shut it down, it persisted until the early 1990s when the colonial government was finally able to relocate the 35,000 residents. It was replaced with a rather lovely park containing a detailed model of the settlement in its final days.
The previous evening I dined at Wan Gui Chuen, 107 Hennessy Road in Wan Chai. This is another of those places with an Argos-style form that you fill in to communicate your order. The form here (annoyingly I forgot to photograph any of these during my stay) contained no English so I had to complete it with the help of Google Translate.
What appeared was maybe not quite up to the standard of Sing Lum Khui the night before but I really had little to complain about, the soup was hot and the umami strong.
Yesterday evening I paid a visit to Sing Lum Khui at 23 Lock Road, Kowloon where I enjoyed noodles with various bits of pork and beef in a hot and sour soup (ordered “medium spicy” on the Argos-style card that I forgot to photo) that provided a delightful spice blast unlike anything I’ve known before.
The soup these noodles came in was really something, well-seasoned and incredibly spicy with the abundant coriander providing a welcome punch of freshness. The Argos-style order form that’s often used in these sorts of restaurants is just visible in the container with the chopsticks. If you come to Hong Kong you should really make an effort to eat here, it is superb.
This morning I crossed the water to Kowloon once again to hop on a bus to visit the street markets of Sham Shui Po and sample some of the food available from the various walk up shops around the market. And now I’m out in Wan Chai for some evening refreshment – can anyone spot a theme here?!
All of Hong Kong’s infrastructure standards were imported from the UK. Thus, HK is one of the only places other than the UK where one can find double decker buses in mainstream use. The two main bus operators, Citybus and Kowloon Motor Bus, run large fleets of air conditioned triple axle vehicles, all with bilingual real time information and announcements. Hong Kong also has a tap-to-go card called Octopus that can be used on all public transport (except taxis) and for a host of other things – the vast majority of convenience stores and fast food places accept it as well. There’s an Octopus phone app (which I’ve got) that you can recharge using Apple Pay or the Android equivalent as well.
These rice sticks are a bit uninteresting until they get covered in soy sauce, peanut sauce, some other type of sauce and sesame seeds at which point they become really quite nice. Apologies for photographer hand, you eat them in an alleyway so there’s not a lot to put the bowl on.
Curried fish balls – the Hong Kong delicacy everyone should apparently try. To be honest I didn’t think these tasted of a great deal. The photographer’s hand (and watch strap) makes another appearance.
I ascended to Victoria Peak via the nearly vertical Peak Tram and walked the scenic path around the base of the peak. Later, I travelled across the water to Kowloon for evening bunkers in a properly authentic Irish pub.
I find myself on a dull Tuesday evening in the London Borough of Hillingdon, an excellent staging post ahead of a visit to a certain nearby airport for sundry work purposes that are of little interest here. Previous research into lodgings along the Bath Road had alerted me to an interesting venue on the way to Sipson:
Could this be Pakistani curry within easy walking distance of the strip of airport hotels that line Heathrow’s northern flank? I knew I would have to investigate.
I drove up from the south coast under apocalyptic skies, accompanied throughout the journey by stop-start (but not much in the way of stop) torrential rain. Dashing from my parked car to the hotel entrance entailed getting thoroughly soaked. Although my goal was only ten minutes’ walk away I wondered if this was an option in these conditions.
After checking in I noticed something of a sucker’s gap on the weather radar. It was now or never. My confidence in making the journey without drowning received a further boost on the discovery of an ingenious machine in the lobby that would hire me an umbrella for the princely sum of two quid. Suddenly I was all set.
The magical umbrella machine
I made my way along Bath Road, constant and thunderous traffic keeping me company as I dodged the puddles and spray. As I made my way up Sipson Road my goal gradually revealed itself around the corner – here was Spice Mix, sharing its salubrious location with an airport parking firm and a hand car wash.
Presenting myself at the building shown on Google Maps, I noticed a sign directing me further into the car park. A portacabin beckoned from a corner. Strolling in, I found it empty. The actual kitchen was to be found in the next building, along with a member of staff in the midst of a phone call, who espied me as I wandered around. He bade me wait for him in the portacabin.
Phone call still underway, the man joined me in the portacabin to take my order. This was to be lamb karahi, plain rice and a butter naan. I had an important question – did the karahi contain the devil’s vegetable (capsicum)? It did not. But – and this was most important – how spicy did I want it? I offered “desi spicy?” – this was understood. “Medium?” he replied. “And a little bit more.” We had an understanding.
The counter with its refrigerated delights
I took a seat and appraised my surroundings. This was no frills in the extreme, a curry caff in its purest sense. Others arrived, and similar negotiations were entered into.
After a decent interval my food appeared. This would be an extremely moist karahi, to the point of it having shorva as opposed to masala. It was bedecked with a garnish of julienned ginger, bullet chillies and a sprig of coriander. The bread was served quartered. The rice was in abundance, and would probably be too much for me. Dipping the bread into the shorva revealed spice but not much in the way of seasoning.
I should note at this point that I had recently recovered from a bout of the ‘vid during which my sense of smell went temporarily astray. While it has now returned there is still a possibility that the taste buds might not be completely back to full function although I think they are mostly working ok now.
Getting stuck in, I decided my method of attack would be to transport the rice from its bowl to sit atop the shorva. The lamb was tender, with one piece on the bone of the eight or nine present. I got the impression that it and the shorva had been introduced only recently. The spice built nicely, however the seasoning was still rather lacking. It was however a perfectly serviceable curry, and one I was enjoying eating.
The bread was an interesting proposition. While it certainly had butter on it and tasted buttery, it was a stodgy old thing and not quite what I had hoped it would be. I considered I would possibly have been better off forgoing the bread in favour of the rice, which was nicely infused with the aroma of cardamoms, one of which I narrowly avoided biting into – always the surprise nobody wants.
I managed all the meat and most of the shorva, but as I predicted an amount of the rice had to remain uneaten. This was perfectly good, honest food, which set me back £13.90. Not unreasonable by any means. The man I paid was a different fellow to the one who had taken my order and prepared the food. I found him as I left, in the same window through which he had originally espied me. “How was it?”, he asked. I told him I had asked for desi, and that was exactly what he had given me.
After the roast beef (never t*rk*y) excesses of Christmas Day, I’m out of the house on Boxing Day and looking for a late lunch. I desire curry, but something different from the usual BIR fare one finds is omnipresent round these parts.
Smile Grill (121 Charminster Road, Bournemouth BH8 8UH) is one of those pizza-kebab-burger-curry joints that are relatively common in many parts of the UK but the curry element is a bit of a rarity on the sunny south coast, us spice lovers having to satisfy ourselves with BIR establishments all serving variations on the usual offerings. Smile is set apart still further by being an Afghani outlet. My hopes are high.
On entry, I note a series of tables to the left, all occupied bar one. I catch the eye of one of the numerous staff and point to it, receiving an affirmative nod. The menu is laid out on an illuminated sign above the counter, and I engage what turns out to be mein host to place my simple order – lamb curry and rice. What rice? The options are pilau and “Kabul rice”. This joint is busy and while I would like to question mein host what goes on in Kabul rice I opt for pilau. Would I like bread? Oh, go on then.
Taking my seat I further observe a Tardis-like back room that seemingly swallows up all the subsequent arriving customers. The tables are bare, bar a selection of condiments that I did not investigate. Behind the counter, the various curry offerings are visible along with a rotisserie cabinet and the usual elephant’s legs.
A waiter appears with a single naan bread, a small plate of hummus and a courtesy salad. The bread is served whole and is pleasantly blistered – I sacrifice some to the hummus and find both to be enjoyable. My rice follows, studded with sultanas and embedded with strips of carrot. With that, the main event arrives.
This is most certainly not a BIR curry. Lots of small – boneless – pieces of lamb in something that is decidedly more masala than shorva. I note visible oil separating around the edges of the dish. I decide to adopt a two-pronged method of attack, digging into the masala with the bread and transporting the meat over to the larger rice plate.
The bread is both crisp and slightly chewy – perfect – and collects the masala well. The lamb is soft, not to the point of falling apart but needs minimal persuasion. The spice level is decidedly medium but is certainly enjoyable – I had not asked for any customisations so this was fine. The rice was delightful, bouncy and with a fruity twang thanks to the many sultanas.
My only gripe is that the food could have been slightly hotter, although this was not helped by my being slightly in the draught of the constantly opening-and-closing front door.
The price of this Boxing Day feed – including a Diet Coke – came to the princely sum of £11.00 which I was more than happy to hand over to mein host at the counter on departure.
Would I return? Most certainly – I want to investigate the alternative Kabul rice, and to enquire at a quieter time about the possibility of customisation. I also want to have a go at what appears to be a lamb shank biryani. A la prochâine!
. Today I visited the Man Mo Temple which was again busy with people getting their devotions in ahead of the lunar new year.
