Ramen Dinner

Back in the US, if I said, ‘Oh, I’m having ramen for dinner, ” most of my friends would just shake their heads, thinking that my laziness had driven me to eat my dinner from a cup or instant packet.  Japan and Hong Kong have completely changed my expectations of noodles.  I’ve already shared with you the divine noodle, but last night I had some fairly divine ramen at a little place called Yachiyo.  Located in Central Sheung Wan [one stop west of Central on the MTR] at 8 On Wo Lane, this little Japanese ramen shop serves up probably the best ramen noodles in Hong Kong.   I gave you all that information so that when you make it to Hong Kong , you’ll go there.  I had a plate of the cold noodles with organic vegetables [the picture with the tomatoes on top].  Good grief delicious!  Nothing goes better with food than pictures, so get hungry looking at these:

Beijing – Peking Duck

Spice and everything nice…

After my brief stint in Nanjing, I boarded a plane to the Sichuan province. Sichuan is probably most famous for its spicy and flavorful dishes. Oh, and they have pandas – but more on that later. Anyone who has spent anytime with me realizes that I eat constantly and that requests to go get a meal are never turned down. During travel, this intake increases about ten fold, as I am curious about this new found foodstuffs [so much so, that Shu Lan once exclaimed while we vacationed in Japan, as I debated eating at a restaurant we had just come upon, ‘How can you be hungry?! We just left that one!’ as she pointed down the street]. Story in short – I like to eat.

I felt prepared for the heat of Sichuan. Those who have met my father know that I have been exposed to dishes that ignite the palate, burn hairs off nostrils, and erupt rivers of tears which seem never to end. However, the local ‘hot’ and ‘spicy’ cuisine was a pleasant surprise. While many ETAs shied away from pepper filled dishes, aromatic masterpieces, for fear of intestinal damage, I and another dived in head first. ‘Spicy’ doesn’t seem to fully explain the flavor. Don’t get me wrong, there are times when I choked on burning, waved my mouth for the hope that a little extra air flow might lax the pain – but these dishes weren’t the norm. Each dish was simply jam packed with flavors, juices, and plain happiness. One spice turns your tongue into an orchestra of tingling, for which the only cure is eating more food. As your lips lose feeling and your nasal passages clear, you realize that you are dining pieces of heaven.

Another piece of Sichuan [and indeed Chinese at large] cuisine is the ‘hot pot.’ Sadly, this eating style has not reached its worthy popularity in the West – save from various fondues. The long and short – you have a pot of near boiling liquid, raw meats, veggies, and a lot of people. You drop food in, you wait and talk, and then you eat. Repeat until you are all so stuffed you can’t move. Simple idea but tons of fun – but you’ll have get over the fact that you have raw fish and meats on the table. I had hot pot before I came to Asia and Hong Kong has hot pot places galore- but Sichuan puts on its necessary spin. The broth, a blood red from peppers and spice, is delightful. Meats and vegetables come out with a smoky happiness and the boiling broth fills the room with heavy steamy joy. However, the pot is full of its own danger. Through the result of a few beers and the conversational nature of hot pot, several mushroom caps had sat the fiery liquid for far too long. Hunger eventually returned [every time you say that you are finished eating in a hot pot, you actually are not until you are out the door.]. Blowing and cooling the piece, I placed it in my mouth. Let me tell you now – mushrooms soak up flavors like you wouldn’t believe. Delicious and painful!

Indeed, returning to normal dishes is met with a mild sadness. Hong Kong food, though still wonderful, is bland and tepid. I even sought out a local Sichuan place with friends last weekend, a meager effort to capture the adventure. The spice ventured more toward ‘hot’ and ‘painful’ than the joyous tingle and numbness – but the result was exactly what was needed – returning the thoughts of delicious cuisine. I can’t wait to get some more Sichuan food into my system.

Language and food…

I wrote last about following in the footsteps of Bourdain.  One thing I forgot to mention is that none of those places speak English or have English menus.  This seems to be an ever present marker of great food in my travels. When I first arrived in Hong Kong, I stuck to the English offerings which gave me a sense of what I was going to get – and I had, frankly, a mediocre food experience.  While the normal/everyday offerings [and even fast food] were above the standard, I wondered – where is all this fantastic Hong Kong food?  Where is the drop your mouth, thank the food gods, happiness on a platter food?

The answer is that the places with that food are often the places with no translator, no translations, and are near something [disposal area, car mechanic, sketchily washed dishes, etc] that you wish was not near the food you are about to put in your mouth. Sometimes, it seems, you just have to get out of your comfort zone to get some good eats – either language or environment.

Illustrating the language issue – while in Japan, Shu Lan and I randomly stumbled into a restaurant.  We, driven by our starvation, had accidentally gone to the wrong floor [thinking we were at the place with the English menu advertised outside].  When we sat, the menu was written in a calligraphy Japanese, and all the waiters spoke Japanese.  All had assumed Shu Lan could speak it too, hence why they didn’t say anything at the door.  So, unable to read a single item on the menu – Shu Lan just asked the waiter to bring us two dishes he liked.  The experience was one of the best meals we had in Japan.

So, if you are in Tokyo, seek out Rinka. I would give better directions [it is in the Shinjunku district] but I seriously doubt I could find it again.  Here are some photos from that experience:

Yat Lok Pics

Following the footsteps of Bourdain

Before coming to Hong Kong, I inundated myself with food show episodes and travel-sodes.  Thankfully, with the Olympics quickly approaching, American television had no shortage of ‘Explore CHINA’ or ‘Food in CHINA,’ and the like.  No Reservations, with Anthony Bourdain, did a particularly good job of exciting me about the food of Hong Kong.  However, I figured that he went to impossible to get into locales, obscure venues accessible only by car and chauffeur, or expensive digs that would make my wallet cringe.  I figured my chances of experiencing the Hong Kong he viewed were slim.

However, Tai Po isn’t THAT big, so I quickly found Yat Lok – the BBQ place he visited.  It is small, tucked away in the avalanche of selling and shops in the Tai Po Old Market. When you get inside, chairs and tables are crapped, and you wonder where is the open space Bourdain found?  Three westerners in Tai Po often gets a few looks, mostly for the “who is going to talk to these kids who obviously don’t know Chinese” problem. Through pointing, lots of smiles, and sheer luck – we managed to secure pork, goose, bok choy [the only vegetable I knew at the time] and a tomato/beef stew.  The pork was heaven, launching my taste buds into a chorus of angels.  The stew was a surprising gem.  As I paused for a breath, I realized none of us had spoken since we started eating – the sign of a great meal.

On Monday, I ventured to the Cooked Food Centre [Bourdain calls it a food court - which is an apt description] to get myself some hand made noodles.  I had been to the Cooked Foods Centre before, a location where street venders have moved indoors – and the food is amazing.  Sometimes you get a dud, but definitely go here if you get the chance.  Finding seats can often be a problem.  The noodle resturant is open from 7 to 3, and right there out front is the guy who makes the noodles with the bamboo pole. If you haven’t seen the episode by Bourdain, Part 2 will give you a glimpse into what this guy does everyday to make his food.

The most amazing noodle of my life.  I believe in pastafarianism, for only a Flying Spaghetti Monster divinity could pack so much enlightenment into a little dish.  The waitress and the guy were really friendly, talking to us in Cantonese, suggesting to eat the noodles with vinegar – just a delightful experience.  They asked where we were from, if we had seen the show, and if we would come back.  As one of the other ETA’s said, ‘I feel like I just ate a plate of love.’  We all got second plates.  The price for this moment of bliss?  130 HK for 6 plates [about 17 USD].

So, Bourdain’s Hong Kong is totally accessible. Shu Lan even ran into the lady street vender in Mong Kok [PT1 about 6:20]. She asked her about Anthony Bourdain and the show.  The lady apparently blushed, waved her hand and said, ‘I have been here for 30 years, I have been photographed with everyone.’  Shu Lan said she wasn’t nearly as mean as she seemed in the show.

I’m providing links to the show, so you can see it too.  You tube links  Part 1;   Part 2

Next post – pictures.

Don Carlo and Vegetarian Food in HK

 

 

 

 

On Sunday, I saw my first opera.  One night, while out on the town, I saw a massive billboard for the opera, Don Carlo by Verdi, and thought to myself, ‘That could be fun.’  Thankfully, several other English Teaching Assistants agreed.  So, I booked tickets promptly and we decided to get dressed up and go out on the town.

I had also read a review about a restaurant, Green Feeling, that is entirely vegetarian.  Now, I know your first thought – whoopee, you got yourself some boiled lettuce and some bok choy with garlic!  Hold on to your hat, kiddos, this restaurant, simply put, is awesome. The menu features ’shark fin,’ ‘chicken,’ ‘pork,’ and other ‘meat’ dishes cooked in traditional Thai and Chinese ways. Each of the fake meats had it’s own texture – which closely resembled the real deal. We had a delicious curry chicken, chinese broccoli with fake pork, and many other dishes – culminating in a quite lovely lotus bun. If only all cooks made such efforts and strides with vegetarian dishes. The prices were surprisingly cheap as well. The review above has fairly good directions, though I might suggest getting off at Mong Kok East (the walk seems to be shorter). 

Then, it was off to the opera. We arrived with only minor hassling from the ushers and attendants (who seemed to hate anything anyone did all evening). Our seats were better than I expected.  Then, the opera started with a definite whimper.  The first act – I yawned, adjusted in my seat, and was, frankly, bored. Don Carlo seemed less than heroic, none of the voices were impressive, the orchestra consistently drowned out the performers, and the movement/acting was laughable.  Dear me, I thought, how will I make it through 3 hours?  Suddenly, the second act sprung to life.  I don’t know if they needed time to warm up, but this act was impressive.  During the break, one of the other ETA’s said, ‘Man, Don Carlo is short!’

Overall, the opera was pretty good.  The final scene could have had less, “I love you, I’m going to save Flanders” (Carlo) ‘Oh, you should go!’ (Elizabeth) “Oh, I’m going to build statues!” (Carlo) ‘You really should go!’ (Elizabeth) – and repeat about 100 times – but hey, opera is a little dramatic.  The sets and scenes were amazing; the costuming was epic – even from the second balcony. I was impressed by the spectacle of the entire performance. I felt like I got a taste of what makes people so excited about opera, and I’m looking forward to seeing one sometime in the future – and definitely hitting up Green Feeling again.