SHANGHAI WING WAH SZECHUAN RESTAURANT

A restaurant in Hong Kong for which I have immense fondness is experiencing extremely hard times due to Covid. The Shanghai Wingwah Szechuan Restaurant (上海榮華川菜館) in Kwun Tong, founded in 1975, may be forced to close permanently. But perhaps they can survive in a limited form by catering and doing food-to-go until better times.
Good food. Good people.

Our world is shrinking, and I don't like this one bit.
Possibly things will improve soon.
All I can do is hope.


Hong Kong will be a sadder place.



上海榮華川菜館
The Shanghai Wing Wah Szechuan Restaurant
Ground Floor, 15 Shung Yan Street, Kwun Tong.
[觀塘, 崇仁街 15號, 地下]

[FACEBOOK COVER PHOTO]

They were on all the delivery aps and sites.
And very much worth supporting.


Corner of Fu Yan Street (輔仁街) and Shung Yan Street (崇仁街 ), were Fu Yan Street turns west, on the ground floor of a multiple storey old-style apartment building. Not far from Yue Man Square (裕民坊) and the old Silver City Movie Theatre (銀都戲院).



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LANDING AT KAITAK AIRPORT

啟德機場

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NO, NOT ERINMORE

Thomas in Marin, who had been interned at Stanley Fort (赤柱炮台 'chek chyu baau toi') during the war, was one of the last smokers of Erinmore Flake whom I knew. Old Skeleton (老骷髏 'lou fu lau') in Hong Kong was one of the first people I remember stating, categorically, that he liked Erinmore Flake. That was at a time when I myself had not re-explored the product, and could very well remember that it made me sick twice, in my teenage years.

[Stanley Fort: at various times home to the Royal Regiment of Wales, The Queen's Royal Surrey Regiment, the Black Watch (Royal Highland Regiment), the Royal Navy, the Royal Hong Kong Regiment, the 27th. Heavy Regiment, various Gurkha battalions, and a whole slew of Scottish and Indian units. Stanley is located at the southern tip of the island.]

Thomas did not have any sandblasted pipes. Old Skeleton had only sandblasted pipes.
To his mind, that was the only type fitting a military man.

So the pipe below would have appealled to him, and I remember him smoking similar briars.

The proprietor of Telford's gave this pipe to me recently, and through a twisted chain of association naturally I remembered both of the gentlemen mentioned, but I shall not smoke Erinmore Flake in it. Not because it would be heresy, but because I have no wish to open another tin of Erinmore from my stash of pre-Orlik product. Yet.

Old Skeleton used to say that you couldn't get a decent cup of tea in Hong Kong. "These people invented tea, but hardly know how to make it. Same as the French who invented chips (French Fries) and won't do a decent bag of 'em if their lives depend on it, and the Scots, who can't make a decent haggis, which stands to reason because the blasted thing is inedible."


I might agree on the haggis. Possibly also the fries, because the Dutch and the Belgians cook better than the French, especially when it comes to deep fat. But I had an excellent cup of milk tea in Chinatown today, at a sparsely populated place, and enjoyed my smoke afterwards.

No, not Erinmore. Something more Scottish, by Greg Pease.
Twilight was gorgeous. That reflected golden light.
You could see downtown buildings glowing.


I have several sandblasts, and a year's worth of the old Murray's products.
Both Thomas and Old Skeleton are sadly no longer with us.
Old Skeleton passed a decade after the handover.
Thomas three years ago.

TOBACCO INDEX


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THE RAVINE OF YELLOW BAMBOO

He graduated sometime in the seventies, and after over three decades retired from the force. Whereupon he emigrated to the United States (several relatives already lived here), because Hong Kong had changed. Change is good. Except when it isn't.

For many years he had been stationed in Yaumatei, near Canton Road, north of the park.
There was a noodle restaurant near Lai Chi Kok and Portland Street he liked, as well as one on Sai Yee Street. But when time permitted, he'd go to a chachanteng for a baked dish. When he was growing up chachantengs were rare, but what preceded them as a place for tea with milk and HK Western food was the ping sat (冰室). Cold frothy drinks, red bean floats, shave ice with mixed fruits or pineapple or boiled lotus seeds, and cheap snack food. The chachanteng would focus more on strong milk tea, real meals at affordable prices, less ice or ice cream.
At a chachanteng one could sit for hours reading the papers.
Hepped to the eye brows on tea.

This all came out during conversations in which I mentioned going to Ping Yuen on Jackson Street in the late eighties, multiple newspapers and cups of coffee, and a pastry or a slice of pie, after work. It sounded relatable. What a pity Ping Yuen no longer exists! Chachanteng are not common in San Francisco, ping sats are quite unknown. I think he would be pleased at some of the current business in C'town. There's a place on the corner of Washington and Grant, another at Grant and Broadway, that he might like.
But of course things have changed.


He had grown up on the island, and didn't even go to Kowloon until his last year of high school. After passing out (graduating) he moved there. It was a different world. As a kid he didn't even visit the southern side of Hong Kong. Why would he? No reason.

The police college is there, in an area with clear breezes from the South China Sea.

黃竹坑 ('wong juk haang'; Staunton Valley, or Wong Chuk Hang, on the southern side of Hong Kong Island). 黃竹坑舊圍 ('wong juk haang kau wai'; Yellow Bamboo Ravine old settlement) the fortified village which was the original 'Hong Kong', formerly known as (香港村 'heung gong chuen'). A new fortified village was built in the 1860's and 70's nearby. The fragrance in the harbour of the name refers to sandalwood and gaharu, material for incense.

An area with sunlight. More often than you might think. Also largely exposed during typhoons, which usually come in from south or south-east, May to the end of October.

There are many more Pizza Huts and 7-elevens in Hong Kong nowadays that ping sats or chachantengs. It's a younger hipper place than it was, far more worldly.

There is an actual 'ping sat' in Brooklyn, but that's a bit far from here. And there aren't many other reasons to visit New York, so perhaps we'll backburner that for future consideration. Red bean shave ice has become more common here in recent years, part of the boba tea thing. Given that I prefer my red beans as a finely ground marzipan like substance baked within layers of pastry, and find boba less than divine, I haven't explored the phenomenon.

There's alway Metro Hong Kong Desserts (地鐵站奶茶) on Stockton Street.
A place I occasionally go to for a cup of HK milk tea.
As close to a ping sat as there is.

ADDENDUM AT 20:08

A Police College passing out parade would often have the band playing Highland Cathedral.
Plus, at the end, as quick marches (120 steps per minute more or less) Old Lang Syne and We're No Awa Tae Bide Awa, on bagpipes. I know this because 'reasons'.
Other tunes: Happy Wanderer, South Down Militia.
Liberty Bell, Pentland Hills.




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NORTH POINT

Barely a year after it was finished in 1966, the police stormed the building and flushed out bomb factories and a communist revolutionary emergency hospital set up to deal with combat wounds during the riots. 1967 was a turbulent year in Hong Kong, mainly because of mass psychosis across the border. The Kiu Kwan Manion(s) highrise was at the heart of it. Because the tactics of the rioters involved bloodshed and mayhem, the public turned against them. The deaths of children and a popular radio commentator did not help their cause; the assasination of the latter by what was widely reported as a death squad probably put paid to it entirely.

Notoriously, Fujianese refugees who were long-time residents of Hong Kong were heavily involved in sowing discord, making explosive devices, and plotting against the authorities.
One could suspect an enduring pro-Peking slant among that group, given their damned well criminal activities during recent years.

At one point the commander of the garrison across the border (黄永胜 'wong wing sing') seriously suggested invading the Crown Colony, having by that time organized succesful massacres in Guantung and Guangsi. His plans were foiled at the highest level.
He was purged in 1971, put on trial for various offenses in 1980.
He was released from prison, and died in 1983.

Kiu Kwan Mansion at 395 King's Road, North Point, Hong Kong.

The riots came to an end when Peking ordered their cessation. Cooler heads prevailed at the top levels, and the insanity faded. The bombing campaign by red thugs achieved nothing.

From May until October there had been turmoil.


For nearly fifty years a Fujianese Department store (華豐國貨有限公司 'waa fung gwok fo yau haan gong si') has occupied the bottom two floors in the building.


North Point (北角 'paak gok') has for several decades had a large population of Shanghainese and Fujianese, and even today there are numerous speakers of Minnan there.
It's an interesting and diverse place.

Very bourgeois.




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THE CAPTAIN HAS A HEAD COLD ...

Yesterday evening I should have been heading over to North Beach, as per tradition of many years standing. But I still had a cold, and my nose was horribly uncivilised. And it's not good to sneeze in a mask. I wonder how medical people do it. I can well imagine surgeons calling out frantically "nurse, hold my mask down, lest it lift off while I've got him opened up and we have to sterilize the incisions as well as all surfaces!" Because, of course, the force of the eruption would, if strong enough, send the little scrap of pale blue or green cloth flying.
Maybe no operations are done while he or she is sick.
That would make sense, I suppose.

So the patient might wake up after surgery, only to be told "we nearly lost you, his hand jumped when he sneezed. Oh, and you're on five different antivirals and antibiotics right now, because you were directly in the line of fire."

Then the nurse asks the standard four questions: "have you had a bowel movement?" "Have you micturated?" "Have you passed gas?" 嘿，聽講你識講廣東話，係唔係真嘅？Because no matter what, one must find out if the patient's organs are starting to function again.
Is limp John or Mary going to make it, or are drastic measures required?


Between sneezing, leaking, and being plugged up, my nose was a pain in the ...


啟德機場13跑道

So to pass the time before going to bed, I drew Runway 13 at Kaitak Airport again.
By the way: Runway 13 is 31 when taking off. Compass bearings.

If a pilot sneezed violently while banking right, things would go wrong. Something to think about retrospectively while having a sternutatory nose. Several times.

The plane would land with a bump and slide into water. Because, as you might remember, the runaway is in the middle of the harbour, and the approach was always a bit tricky.
Yes, planes landed there even during the cold and flu season.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we're in a holding pattern above the South China Sea until the pilot's antihistamines kick in, there's something in the cabin to which he is highly allergic. You will just have to be patient. Might take an hour or two. Suck it up, babies. And thank you."

Does anyone ever ask whether the pilot has a cold or there's pollen in the cockpit? No? Perhaps you should.

Here's the airstrip from a different angle.

Not much 'wiggle room' there.


Taking off (bank left sharply to avoid hills) was easier than landing. Either way, there were a number of accidents over the years, despite pilots needing special training for Kaitak.


It is not known how many of those were caused by sneezing.
Bad allergies kicking in. Psychogenic disorders.




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YELLOW BAMBOO PIT

The parade ground at Wong Chuk Hang (黃竹坑) was where graduates of the Hong Kong Police Training School (黃竹坑警察訓練學校 'wong juk haang king chat fan lin hok haau') had their passing out parade, at the southern end of the island. It is across Sham Wan (深灣 "deep bay") from Ap Lei Chau (鴨脷洲 "duck tongue island"). Nam Long Shan (南朗山 "south brightness mountain"; Brick Hill) is directly south of there.
Spectators, often, had umbrellas to shield themselves from the sun.
Hot and blazing in that climate at that time of year.

Old Lang Syne as a military tune.
A quick march, British style.
Played on bagpipes.

南朗山

Clear skies, open space, forested hills in the background.

An old friend who has a bookstore on Kowloon lives and has her home office on Ap Lei Chau. One of the last smokers of Erinmore Flake in Marin County remembered that area, as well as Stanley Fort nearby, where he was imprisoned during World War Two. He passed away a few years ago. On the other hand, one of the other occasional smokers of Erinmore resurfaced about a week ago -- he had quit for a few years. He's walking with difficulty, and dodders, though seems well-preserved besides that. Erinmore Flake keeps you hale. QED

To the best of my knowledge Adrian never smoked Erinmore Flake habitually. And his stamping grounds were the Central District and the peak. 中環，維多利亞山(太平山)。


Because of those bagpipes I am now imagining the Cantonese language pronounced with a heavy highlands accent in the early years of the Crown Colony. By drill sergeants.
And I cannot imagine it; it would be entirely beyond unintelligible.

Worse than Cantonese spoken by Shanghainese.
Or Dutch by Americans.



You ought to be familiar with my trains of thought by now.
They often get hijacked by what's in my head.




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FRAGRANT TWILIGHT

It was too chewy, and I should have known better. The last time I had ordered the substance it proved impossible to eat, despite manful attempts But it's very Hong Kong, and I was feeling adventurous. As well as hungry, because as usual I had skipped breakfast, and having spent too much time putzing around at home, a very late lunch sirene-songed at me.

Really, I should have eaten earlier. I would have chosen better.

蒜蓉豬肚
Suen-yong chyu tou

Pig stomach, sliced thin, marinated with crushed garlic, a dash of soy sauce, and a smidge of sesame oil. Served cold. It was of course absolutely delicious, and quite impossible.

Some Hong Kong foods are not meant for human consumption. Unless you have good strong sharp teeth, and extreme patience. The owner is from Hong Kong, and there was no one else there at that hour -- although someone did call in an order for pizza (比薩) to pick up -- so there was no one to bother me as I chewed and chewed and chewed and chewed and chewed.

Probably should have had the pizza instead.

Or the cauliflower with salty meat.

臘味炒菜花。


After giving up and drinking my tea I went out to smoke. Chinatown was quiet, most people were probably inside having dinner at that time, the tourists were largely absent, and the streets were nearly empty. A few buses trundled past, one or two cars.
Slanting light from the western sky. Mild breeze. Tranquil.



That eatery's owner has two kids. The younger one is a sweet little fellow, ambulatory and developing into a person now. The last time I saw him he was still an infant in diapers, with all the dis-appeal of that age. But it has been over a year and a half since then.

I fervently hope that the virus passes over that place.
And all of the neighborhood, actually.



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THEIR WOOLY WEATHER

Yesterday morning it rained heavily in Hong Kong. Which, to a Californian, sounds rather nice. We don't get much rain, and the state is tinder-dry. Fire season has started earlier this year, and there have been a few dangerous hot spells. Summer rain in Hong Kong is skirts and windbreaker weather, not cold, and not always gentle. Landslides, mud floods, traffic disasters, and closing of schools, some government buildings, and the stock market.

In contrast, here in San Francisco we've had pleasantly cool fog in the morning and evening, with some remarkably hot weather inland where people are crazy.

It gets greyish. Perhaps the pavement darkens.


Then we read about people in Portland and Texas pulling berserk stuff because of the heat.
Or fireworks accidentally causing grass fires and burning down a house.


Casually we scrape the mildew out of our ears with cunning little scoops, as we are wont to do, and consider that the rest of the country is unbearable, and often insane.

How do people even live there?




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NOODLES, TOMATOES, AND A PORK CHOP

Once you descend the narrow street, the smells of toast, and tomato stews hit you. And you understand why this ramshackle cafe on Mei Lun Street is popular among the neighborhood people. Underneath the tomato scent, beef brisket soup. But you decide that it is too warm to eat hot food, and you amble on, to avoid temptation. Two blocks further something else.
Dried fish. Not strong. Delicate almost. And then, faintly, a ghostly hint of durian.
Maybe you should have stopped for someting stewy with tomatoes?
Perhaps you will. Next time.

Years ago I smelled durian while descending Sacramento Street at two thirty in the morning. So I followed my nose (always a bad idea) to the intersection of Valejo and Stockton, where a small lump of rotten fruit flesh peered up at me from the gutter. Six blocks.
It had sent its sirene aroma quite a distance.


Beef noodle soup with tomatoes is actually delicious on a warm day. So perhaps you should have stopped for a bite. Yes, they use instant noodles -- many restaurants do, it's an accepted local taste -- but made with fresh tomatoes, the result is stellar at a low price.

And, if an insane fit hit you, you might have durian afterwards.
I am intellectually more fond of durian than in reality.
It's one of those things stuck in the mind.
Or, quite often, the nose.


Like stinky tofu, Hong Kong people have a berserk love affair with it which is entirely baffling. Durian is quite delicious if you stop breathing for five minutes to enjoy the suggestion of vanilla pudding or custard, but once it's entered you nostrils it lingers, and hours later might come back to haunt you. So I can't say I enjoy it any more.

But I like introducing innocent people to its charms.

Beef noodle soup with tomatoes is much easier to like, and quite delicious. Nowadays most of my meals involve noodles, sometimes with fresh vegetables including tomatoes, sometimes with a curry broth. Nothing involving long simmered stocks or tamarind, because I'm lazy.
Just stuff thrown together with a careful plan. And chili paste, of course.


Sing Heung Yuen (勝香園) in Sheung Wan is a famous dai pai dong that has a reputation for pretty darn good tomato stew noodle dishes. Typical Hong Kong style, and your choices of meats include everything that you might add at home; luncheon meat, sausages, egg, odd meats, pork chops, chicken wings. And bacon.


"Please allow some time as all food are prepared fresh to order. Apologies for any inconvenience caused."


They also have toast with condensed milk, butter, and kaya.
And hot Coca Cola with lemon and ginger.




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PRECISE PERSPECTIVE

Four years ago Adrian was still in Hong Kong, after having spent several years posted to an even warmer place with much less rain. Hong Kong was a halfway point between there and England, where he's been since retiring. And Adrian liked to smoke Dunhill's Elizabethan Mixture while there. We know this because there was photographic evidence.

The picture below is of an area not far from where he smoked then. But it might as well have been a world away, across the harbour, where Cantonese is more common than in Central.

No, it's NOT San Francisco.

Strong milk tea, a toasted buttered piggy bun (called that because it looks like a little piggy), and a place to shelter from the rain that blows in late morning or early afternoon. An umbrella is not really necessary, although the pipe smoker is advised to carry one just in case.
Smoking under a shopkeepers awning may not be the way to go.

[As with any painting on the computer, if you cram in enough blobs, stay away from the stronger hues, and then reduce like topsy, something close to photo realism is achieved. The great advantage of Paint on the computer is that mistakes are not permanent. Given that my right hand occasionally spasms and right-clicks, which erases what I just drew, and that I still haven't fully got complete obsessive control of my hand back since that episode several years ago, this is good.]


Lunch today was a little chicken pie I got in Chinatown yesterday. Bought four, my apartment mate took two of them for her lunch at the office, there's one left, which she can have too.
Can't find piggy buns in C'town. They may not know what those are.
It's mostly mainland Cantos and Toishanese.

I'm smoking Elizabethan Mixture right now. It's not produced under the Dunhill label -- wasn't made by them for two decades anyway, but by Orlik under contract -- so this is actually the STG version marked as a Peterson product. Same factory, though. Peterson as a brand for pipe tobacco was bought by STG, and it's same recipe.


There are five products that help maintain a semblance of civilized living: tea, pipe tobacco, marmalade, hot sauce, and medicated foot powder. That last is not meant for the mouth. In hot weather and humid climes foot powder is essential, preventing itch, discomfort, and odour. You'll grow to like it, and might even become addicted. Powdered feet are happy feet.
Judiciously applied it also keeps the wooden floor from creaking.
Can also be used as talcum in a pinch.



FURTHER TIPS ON CIVILIZED LIVING:

Get enough sleep and start the day with coffee; this makes you bearable.
Always shave and put on a clean shirt before going in to work.
Maintain a healthy relationship with a book shop.
Bathe regularly.

This is the way.

TOBACCO INDEX


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A CENTRAL TASTE

A carefully composed/assembled lunch of HK egg noodles, curry paste (咖喱膏 'gaa lei gou'), chilies, garlic, ginger, with mustard greens, fish balls (魚丸 'yü yeun'), and a beaten egg. A more thoughtful version of lapsap min (垃圾面), without Spam® or other tinned pork luncheon meat. And a hot cup of yuen yeung (鴛鴦). Essentially a chachanteng special, home-cooked.

Things are opening up tomorrow. Places will be packed.

I'm quite ambivalent about the prospect of people ditching their masks at this early stage, as seems to be happening already, and will get worse over the next few weeks in California. For one thing, I don't know where all these diseased cretins have been, and for another, I suspect we'll lose a whole bunch of the unvaxxed. While out walking earlier with some C&D Red Carpet, the only people who one hundred percent wore masks were elderly Cantonese. Who will probably continue to do so out of a sense of civic-mindedness and social responsibility.

Naturally I intend to wear a mask for the most part, except when eating or smoking. Continued social-distancing is also in the cards.

C&D's Red Carpet is Red Virginia and Perique pressed into flakes. It's almost like C&D read my mind, and seems perfectly composed for someone with my tastes (noodles, curry, chilies, bitter veggies, and fish balls).

The tobacco in the tin has a rich fruity aroma. It benefits from a little air-drying to lower the moisture content. The smoke is tangy, slightly spicy. This is a classic in the same vein as Dunhill Flake, now under the Peterson marque, but still made by Orlik as has been the case for the last two decades plus. A decent solid pipe tobacco of a type avoided by deviants, perverts, and other aficionados of candy syrup aromatics.

Somewhat later I'll put on a sweater and go out to enjoy another bowlful.
While avoiding other human beings as best I can.
For which a pipe is perfect.

Got the pipe above at the same time as the staved teak boxes made for Dunhills in Hong Kong. Not the new store that opened in late summer 2011, which like all modern iterations of Dunhill concentrates solely on luxury goods not connected to smoking or tobacco.
Hong Kong doesn't smoke so much any more.
Almost nowhere does.


I think I'll need a hot beverage once I return.

TOBACCO INDEX


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HONG KONG IN RAIN

For no reason whatsoever, here is a drawing of Hong Kong in the rain:

Light refracted in the falling droplets above roofs and edges.
A pattern of indistinct shapes in the near distance.
Cement-age monoliths in the middle.
Hill-ridges far.



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CONSIDER THINGS BESIDES THE WEATHER

The worst typhoon to recently hit Hong Kong was Mangkut in September 2018. I wasn't there, of course, that was the year I was gambling that my medical insurance would kick in before a heart attack by the side of the freeway while waiting for the bus home after work, but in some ways watching horrid weather elsewhere was a welcome relief. Which is odd. Hoping that one will survive is much easier when other people are looking at scaffolding falling twenty stories, or roofs of warehouses being torn off. One tends to be self-centered when facing death.

In fact, I don't really want to be in a typhoon again. And certainly not a monster storm. Never mind the enlightening change in perspective. Watching water go sideways is, in the final analysis, more intellectually stimulating and far less worrisome from half a world away.

It is far better to be an armchair disaster tourist than to actually be there.

A friend lives on the umpteenth something floor of an apartment building in a development on Ap Lei Chau (鴨脷洲). Which is a lovely place to live, as far as digs in HK go, but her elevator went out during the storm. So getting to work was not an issue, if she had wanted to desperately get to the hard copies of shipping and cargo files .....
Though getting home would have been a problem.
Which highlights two things:

1) Have everything necessary on your computer in case of emergency;
2) Always have enough potato salad at home to weather a storm.

Of course if the electricity goes out too, you will be hosed.

I am (momentarily) quite fixated on potato salad.

Potato salad is very comforting.

One can NOT smoke one's pipe outside in a howling gale, because the winds might cause the bowl to overheat and possibly burn out. Getting it lit and keeping it so present huge problems. Plus any available shelter will be occupied by nonsmokers.

But one can eat potato salad. That enterprise is not, or far less, affected by the weather.

Hong Kong is on the whole warmer than San Francisco (current temps: SF 58°F. HK 88°F).
Potato salad is not widely available, but can be found with diligence.
Alas, pipe tobacco is an iffy proposition altogether.
And typhoons remain an issue.

But there are benefits.
Very solid.



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CRAP WARMED OVER

The day after the final shot was rather awful. Chills, aches, and complete energy depletion. Interrupted by curry noodle soup. Seldom have I felt so physically wrecked.
The injected shoulder felt like a house had fallen on it.

Spent most of the day in bed with two down comforters trying to get warm.


Went into her room during the afternoon to get the turkey vulture, who was snuggling with the senior roomie (Ms. Bruin). I've learned that if I don't feed him, he slags me for the next twenty four to forty eight hours. He's keenly interested in food.

For some reason which I cannot fathom he has a well-developed vocabulary for food and insults in Cantonese. Which is odd. Turkey vultures are NOT natives of China, or even widely known there. Hence the misnaming of them.

禿鷹 = buzzard ('tuk ying'; "bald raptor"). But it really should be 鵟 ('kong'), which is a generic term for buzzard. And probably 美鵟 ('mei kong'), to signify that he is an American buzzard. His favourite food, on a purely intellectual level, is juvenile hamster (倉鼠 'chong shyu'; "the grain storage mouse"), which he has never had; he thinks hamsters look like meatballs, ergo they must be good. We will not permit him to eat a hamster.

His second favourite food is the fatty thighs of decedents.
I am too scrawny, and I don't plan on dying soon.
He must remain disappointerd.



香港，啟德機場，跑道 13。

For no reason other than that I finished drawing it, here's a picture of an inactive airport that a lot of people remember.

Landing there may have shortened some people's lives.
Especially during typhoon season.



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THE ENVIOUS ARM CHAIR TRAVELLER

A friend in Singapore will soon be taking advantage of the travel bubble between his city and Hong Kong. He hasn't visited HK since he was a tyke, and this will be his first trip abroad since the pandemic began. Naturally I have recommendations. Not only because I'm a know-it-all, but very largely because I don't travel much, and haven't in well over a decade.
Visiting Marin County to babysit elderly reprehensibles doesn't count.
That's misapplied mercy.

Almost all of my recommendations involve food.

For which HK is one of the world metropoles.
Bluntly put, HK is 滿魚的甜味。

Roast Goose (燒鵝) at Yung Kee in Central (鏞記酒家) as well as in Sham Tseng (深井) at a far lower price but just as good; either at Yue Kee (裕記大飯店) or Chan Kee (深井陳記燒鵝酒家), or a few other places. Plus poon choi (盤菜 / 盆菜) at Wing Wah (大榮華酒樓) on On Ning Road (安寧路) in Yuen Long (元朗). Rice porridge (粥) at Mui Kee (妹記生滾粥品) in the Municipal Services Building, fourth floor, Mongkok. Pineapple buns or toasted little piggy buns with butter at Kam Wah Bakery (金華冰廳) on Bute Street (弼街) in Prince Edward (太子), Kowloon.
Wonton noodle soup at Scrawny Mak's, naturally.
It's a pilgrimage.

[麥奀雲吞麵世家: 77 Wellington Street - Ground Floor, Central District, HK. (中環, 威靈頓街, 77號, 地下).]


And most particularly, almost everything on the menu at Shanghai Wing Wah Szechuan Restaurant in Kwun Tong.

上海榮華川菜館
觀塘, 崇仁街 15號, 地下。
SEUNG HOI WING WAH CHUEN TSOI KOON
The Shanghai Wing Wah Szechuan Restaurant
Ground Floor, 15 Shung Yan Street, Kwun Tong.


Plus of course hot Hong King Milk Tea (港式奶茶) at any number of chachanteng on Hong Kong Island or in Kowloon. With French toast (two slices of bread held together with peanut butter, battered, fried, dusted with confectioners sugar, drizzled with chocolate syrup and sweetened condensed milk).

As well as Typhoon Shelter Crab (避風塘炒蟹 'bei fung tong chaau haai').
Plus, perhaps, little cart noodles (車仔麵 / 垃圾麵 / 嗱喳麵).


Don't forget to bring enough pipe tobacco.
There's almost none available locally.

TOBACCO INDEX


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DOES THIS REALLY TASTE LIKE MACAO?

It's in an attractive metal box that boldly states 雞蛋捲澳門風味 -- chicken egg rolls, Macao flacour. And, like a cat, I'm a sucker for attractive boxes. So inviting, so promising of reward, pleasure, luxury, and snackiness. That's why I've always been fond of egg-roll cookies.


雞蛋捲澳門風味！
['kai daan kuen Ou mun fung mei']
Sabor de Macao / estilo Macaense


They are indeed yummalicious. But are they really the taste of Macao? They're manufactured in the mainland, and other than the term 澳門 ('ou mun') there is no clue hinting at a Macanese derivation.

And I have never been to Macao.
So I never saw them there.

Would I buy them again?
Oh jayzus yes.




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IT SMELLS SO TEMPTING!

In Hong Kong, in Aberdeen Harvour on the south side of the island, is a large and well-known floating restaurant. In Amsterdam, on the other side of the world, is a restaurant precisely like that. I was amused when I went back years ago and saw it, because typhoon shelters and Tanka fishing craft are not exactly common anywhere in Europe.

I never ate there. One does not go back to the Netherlands to eat Chinese food, although one will happily enjoy dim sum in the inner city, because it's better and less pretentious than fake French fare. And one needs a break from unidentifiable fried objects.

Aberdeen Harbour is near Ap Lei Chau, where an old friend has an office. The entire area has changed, there are now skyscrapers all over Hong Kong, and all the malls are air-conditioned and have food courts. Even the sellers of lapsap noodles have moved indoors. That's become a trend all over the industrialized world, because merchants want you to stay nearby, spend time, make sudden unreasonable purchases prompted by boredom and temporary insanity.
Of course the available snacky-nibbly stuff is more interesting where there are a large number of Cantonese than in, for instance, the Westfield Center on Market Street, or Hoog Catharijne in Utrecht. Where the best food I remember was a smoked eel sandwich.


In Hong Kong, the only thing probably still outdoors is the seller of fried stinky tofu.


All the cigarette smokers seem to know where he is. Because they've outlawed smoking inside public places there.


I should know what stinky tofu tastes like, what with being fiercely "food curious". But I could never screw up the appetite for it. It's one of those things like Limburger cheese.
The far less you know about it, probably very much the better.
Cheesy, with an interesting surface texture.
Yeah, um. Okay.



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WHERE MILK TEA COMES FROM

When you think of Hong Kong, what you see in your mind's eye are typhoons, the confined spaces of small crowded apartments (especially in Kwun Tong), narrow streets in Central, the shady warren of Kowloon away from Canton Road, Kaitak airport, and the ferry to HK Island. And drunken Australians. Plus wonton noodle soup, hot kaidanchai dusted with confectioners sugar, steamed meat patty with ginger and salt egg, porkchops over rice, fried noodles, dried fish, fish balls, baked rice dishes, little egg tarts, and milk tea. Especially milk tea.

All of that excepting typhoons and Kaitak can be reproduced in San Francisco. Including the drunken Australians. They aren't unique, and the people who habituate the outdoor facilities along Polk Street and in the Marina are close enough that the difference is negligible.
Just add Fosters and overcooked shrimp on the barbie.

Kaitak was unique. It is no more.

Really, why would you want to have drunken Australians around? Like their kin the Pommies, they get pugnacious.


Best to avoid the bars that cater to white people, and head toward a chachanteng in the evening for some French Toast and a hot cup of Milk Tea. Or, if that can't be done because of covid, make it at home. Strong tea, a hefty dollop of sweetened condensed milk, briskly stirred with a spoon to froth it slightly and aerate it, and listen to the neighbors having a raucous cocktail party across the lot in the other row of buildings while reading the news.
Pretend you are in HK, and those are cricket fans.


Good lord, it's already eleven o'clock! When will they pipe down?
Damned drunken English speakers. Noisy, lah!
Maybe they're Aussies.
蘭桂坊。




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TEA FOR THE HECTIC LIFESTYLE

When I came out of the hospital a year and a half ago after appendicitis, I purchased a box of tea bags on the recommendation of one of the staff there. Who, upon hearing that I liked Hong Kong Milk tea, recommended Rickshaw brand (車仔紅茶包 'che jai hung chaa baau').


"The Rickshaw Black Tea is a refreshing and strong aromatic cup of tea which is ideal for your hectic lifestyle, as it clears and calms your mind leaving you feeling composed."


SF Chinese Hospital, mostly Chinese staff.
Top notch medical attention.

I have another box of it under the chair in my room, bought a few weeks ago. I have no idea how my apartment mate thinks about it, given that she is Chinese American. She probably thinks there's a slight touch of unreconstructed white imperialist about it, what with rickshaws being a relic from the bad old days of colonialism and oppression. And me being a Dutchman who speaks Indonesian, and knows far too much about Asia.

But it's made by a Chinese company in Hong Kong.
So it's a lot safer than it could've been.

She drinks Yorkshire Tea, and various other very British teas. That nice strong bracing black brew, perfect for inclement freezing mornings, slogging through the peat bog out back in your tweeds clouting wild sheep, or something.


As a Dutchman (Dutch American) I am naturally an excitable type, all hectic by golly, and often feel like I require mental clearing that calms and composes me.


I must commend the SF Chinese Hospital staff.
They know what soothes the savage beast.
A wild Kaaskop in San Francisco.
Hong Kong Milk Tea.

港式奶茶



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