When I was younger, I hated coming to Hong Kong. It was loud, smelly, and worst of all to a small child, it was foreign. When I came back this time, and it's been over 12 years since I've been back, I was told repeatedly that the only thing to do here is eat and shop. Which is kind of true.
But Hong Kong, I'm realizing, is a city of many faces. It is a city of stained and weathered high rise apartment buildings, where hundreds of people are crammed into tiny flats. People dry their clothes by hanging them by, and outside, their windows. In the center of the city, the financial district looms with it's state of the art architecture. Men in crisp business suits and women in branded high heels hurry past angular old men struggling to push a large and unweildy carts full of deliveries. The disparity here is jarring. By day, the lines of the city can seem grimy and desolate. By night, the digital landscape flickers to life in neon reds, golds, and greens.
But as a child, what I remembered the most is the smells. Walking down the street, you catch the smell of gasoline and exhaust from the trucks rumbling down the impossibly narrow alley ways, then the pungent smell from a stall selling fresh fish, displayed fresh (and still bloody) on ice. Hurrying through the subway station, there is the unmistakable smell that arises whenever a large number of people are crammed into a small space, then suddenly the sweet smell of a bakery by the escalator heading up to the street. On any given block, you can catch the sharp scent of dried medicinal herbs, a whiff of fresh cut flowers, and the heady aroma of incence from a small shrine, perhaps hidden in a small alcove just out of sight.
Hong Kong, to me, is a jigsaw puzzle; eating in Hong Kong can be much of the same experience. If you know where to look, you can find almost anything to eat here. Of course there's high end dining here, but I've found that my best experiences with food here has been in locales that I would normally label as questionable.
My dad's childhood school friend led us down an uneven concrete staircase, through a dark alley filled with rickety old booths, and into a narrow cross street. At the corner was a non descript eatery with an open kitchen and folding tables. They seat you whereever they can, so you end up sharing tables with strangers as you hurry through your meals. My dad's friend ordered us bowls of beef brisket noodles, and congee with mixed meat. By mixed meat, I mean mixed organs. I managed to try everything but the intestines which I was still too squeamish to try. It actually wasn't bad at all, and I've learned to simply do my best not to think about what I'm eating if I suspect (or in this case, know) that it's something I'd rather not be putting in my mouth. It usually works. I'll eat almost anything as long as I can't readily identify it (thus, why I couldn't eat the intestine--intestines always look like intestines, even when chopped into tiny pieces). When we left the restaurant, it was 1 PM, which is lunch time in Hong Kong. The line curled around the restaurant as people waited for seats.
Because I've been eating mostly with my extended family or family friends, I haven't had the opportunity to take a lot of pictures of my food (I have no idea how to ask my great aunt to wait while I photograph a pot of fish head stew). But I've tried duck and goose feet since being back (similar to chicken feet, mostly just skin, cartiledge, and bone--usually quite salty because of the sauce and spices). I also tried fish head (from the previously mentioned fish head stew; I didn't really want to try it, but my great aunt put it in my bowl, and I decided it didn't LOOK like fish heads, so I managed to eat it, and not be rude). I've also had a vegetarian meal at a Buddhist temple. Despite my inclination to like meat, it wasn't bad. Tasted like a lot of chili sauce and tofu.
The baked goods in Hong Kong are pretty great. I'm glad to be in Hong Kong and old enough now to WANT to eat Chinese style cuisine, instead of constantly insisting that I be taken to a Western style restaurant. Although, I HAVE heard that the Western style food is different here; I'd like to try it one day, but it's impossible with my family. Before I go, I'd really like to buy some "gai dan jei" (straight translation is roughly something referring to small chicken eggs) which are small cakes made in a mold that are shaped like eggs. They're pretty great, but I have to find a hawker that sells them. I saw some the other day on the street corner, but we were in a rush...If I manage to snag some, I'll take a picture and update this post.
Next post: Beijing, and Beijing food.
Sorry for any typos, I haven't had time to proof read and it's past midnight here...
