HK is Bad for the Soul

I am a little embarrassed about my behaviour here, but thought I'd share this story regardless.

I was buying the Hubs some croissants while waiting for him to get back from work so we could go and see the Avengers (worth seeing just for the use of the phrase "mewling quim" alone). I get to the till and there's one person ahead of me. He (P) gets his change, looks at it, and tells the server (S) he's been short changed. They go back and forth for about a minute.

S: I'm so sorry, I'll call my manager (M) to come and fix it (disappears for about a full minute)

M: Hi, sorry, I'll just correct it. Can I see the receipts?

P takes about half a minute to produce the receipt

M: Oh, ok, so it cost $54 and you paid $55. How much change did you give him?

S: 50 cents

Me: OK, how about I pay him ten dollars and you pretend it never happened?

M: Oh, I just need ten minutes to fix this.

Me: I need to go pee. Can I give you the cash for mine?

M: We can't input your order so please wait ten minutes.

Me: I need to pee. How about I give him ten dollars, give you a hundred dollars for my seventy-six dollar purchase and we forget about the change

M: We need to input your order

Me: I don't care about that. It's four croissants, you can input it after. I'll write it down so you don't forget

M: We need to input your order



In the end I got them to ring up my order on the take away till, went to the bathroom, came back and paid at a different till.

I felt like such a smug gweilo (I realise that I'm not white) making such a fuss when some guy just wanted 50 cents. It was only after I had managed to pee and rational thought returned that I realised how despicable and obnoxious I had been. At the same time, I realise how ridiculous the disparity here is. Arguing for 5p or 10 cents? The inflexibility is also classic HK. All in all, quite a good HK parable.

Eats, Shoots & Leaves

Pierre

After an evening of digestion and a morning contemplating death by boredom at work, I headed back over to the Mandarin to meet the ladies. This was easily the highlight of my social calendar - it's not often I get to enjoy a great lunch with a group of vivacious women. I decided early on not to risk iphone photos at this one, there were far too many skilled photographers present. Instead, I decided to eat while the Frogmother shot. I'd arrived with the best intentions. Perhaps I could manage a two course express lunch? Surely I wouldn't be up for the bread again!

How little I know myself.

The bread offering at Pierre (at lunch) wasn't as good as it had been at the Grill the night before. I had more of the butter roll but didn't particularly enjoy the cheese bread or the olive roll. In fairness, I may have left the cheese bread a little late. The cheese had hardened and I don't like hard work at the start of a meal. Or ever.

There was a plate of amuses. One was a herb cookie, textured like Chinese new year peanut cookies. I was a little confused by that association and this probably impacted my perception of the cookie, which was "meh". Next up was what I thought was a slice of sea bass or snapper sashimi, around a whipped cheese dollop. Meh. Finally, I had what seemed to be a hazelnut wrapped in smoked fat. Oh. Em. Gee. Delish. I may have stolen the spare from the table.

That little bit of salty, calorific goodness was the fluffer to the proper amuse, a truffle ice cream on a bed of bacon bits, mushroom quarters and consomme jelly, covered with generous slices (!?) of truffle. I can't imagine that the truffle was traditional truffle given the generousity. Could it have been made in China? I must be more trusting. Also, who cares. It tasted good to my plebeian tastebuds. In fact, it tasted more than good. That dish was a rockstar. It was also very much the highlight of the meal for me.

Though I should be clear when I make such statements. The starter of scallop carpaccio on a curry and cauliflower base was a little step down from heaven, but on a very small one. A little ledge even. I suppose it was the Bon Jovi to the truffle ice cream's GNR. The only thing that wasn't perfect about the dish was the "lace" bread, which was a little too thick to match my imaginings.

I was struggling with indecision when we picked the middle courses and so the Frogmother and I determined to share. I opted for the sorrel omelette with a cheese fondue. The dish wasn't what I was expecting - apparently I have a lot of issues with that at the moment. I expected a sorrel omelette with a cheese fondue, but felt that I'd ended up with a cheese omelette topped with sorrel. Still, that meant that I didn't have any misgivings when I gave it up to the Frogmother in exchange for her haddock quenelle.

This was the better of the two middle courses, though I think it would have been bettered by a slightly smoked haddock. Ah, smoked haddock. That takes me back to one of my best ever breakfasts, in the Malvern hills, in 2000. I was speaking at UCAS events in the UK at the time, and was put up at this quaint little B&B (it has since expanded). It was and still is a family operation, dedicated to British produce. They would smoke their own fish for breakfasts and I continually recommend them for weekend breaks in the Cotswolds (link at Malvern Hills). The views are incredible, the food is still excellent, and the prices are fair. What more can anyone ask for in austerity Britain?

I had foolishly ordered the lamb cutlet for mains, enticed by the "eggplant stiletto" it was served with. I imagined a slender, curved slice of eggplant, in the shape of a Louboutin heel. Nope. I enviously eye-ate the pork belly pasta the majority of the ladies had ordered.

Now, down to the biggest issue of the day. This was an express lunch menu. By the time we had our main course, it was two hours in. Sad to say, most of us don't officially get to eat for a living, and were summoned back to our dull desks before we could even review the dessert menu. Bah.

The petit all-fours were alright. I'm not a huge fan of marshmallow making a comeback but I do like coconut and sugar, so it wasn't unlikeable. Similarly, I don't really like marzipan, but this orange blossom marzipan was alright. There was a chocolate cup filled with a kirsch soaked cherry. Delicious. Finally, an apricot jelly that had a slightly bitter after taste that I didn't personally like, though no one seemed to find this objectionable.

So, sacrilege, I preferred the Grill. Admittedly dinner vs lunch isn't a fair comparison, but beggars (as I am in unaustere Hong Kong) cannot be choosers.

Mandarins in Hong Kong

For some reason, I often feel as though Hong Kong's dining scene is dominated by hotel restaurants. This is silly of me, since some of my favourite restaurants are in hotels, and one of the best dishes of my entire existence was Anton Edelmann's courgette flower with scallop mouselline at the Savoy. I think that part of the problem I face here is that because of the dearth of affordable middle ground restaurants (burger dates here seem to cost seventy quid for two, double what they cost in London), I often end up in a higher end restaurant since that way I feel (marginally) less ripped off. This is contrary to my general belief that eating, drinking and making merry should all go together. Starched tablecloths, judgmental European waiters, immense wine mark ups, whispering or condemnation for a lack of whispering and sacrificing taste for style doesn't really go with this ethos. Still, when in Rome...

In the last 24 hours I have been to eat at the Mandarin Oriental, which I normally only go to for Eve Lom facials, twice. First the Hubs took me to dinner at the Mandarin Grill. I am shamelessly linking to the site of someone who takes great photos here since mine were unbelievably poor and iphone based. Here is a link to someone who had most of the dishes I had, in better light, and with a better camera. Today, I had a lovely ladies lunch (none of whom were ladies of leisure, all of whom were ladies of extensive food knowledge and expertise) at Pierre, where the Fairy Frogmother was kind enough to do the photographic honours.

Mandarin Grill

The Grill is infamous in Hong Kong for being both businessy and expaty. I don't think I could challenge that. We arrived at eight thirty after I had been enjoying cocktails at Otto e Mezzo with the Frogmother. Given my tendency to favour prohibition era cocktails (links in descending preference order, in case anyone fancies buying me a drink one day), I was pretty warmed up and not in the mood for much more drinking when we arrived. This, however, meant that I was less able to block out the initial impression that I was at work when we walked into a room that was filled to capacity (probably around fifty covers), but only had three women in it.

The Hubs and I both opted for a tasting tour. I am growing increasingly bored and frustrated by menus that tell me nothing. For example, if I see "SEA" as the name of a dish on a menu, I often envisage myself sucking brine out of a piece of driftwood. If I'm feeling generous, or in a restaurant like the Mandarin Grill, which has a fairly stellar reputation, this impression may be extended to edible yet decorative garnishes like samphire. It was for this very reason that I wasn't able to contemplate Tour 3, with it's MILLIONAIRE (aren't you meant to marry them, not eat them?) and FLOWER POT (don't you cook in terracotta, not eat it?). I eat an awful lot of beef these days and so "SIRLOIN" didn't appeal, knocking out Tour 1. Tour 2 it was then! To be fair to them, the menus we were shown at the table did have slightly more information, which I've included in the descriptions below. It is always such a gamble with these menus though, because there's no real way of understanding what you are ordering, and it would have been quite a task for the waiter to rattle through each and every dish. One day I might actually test this.

To kick us off, there were three mini amuses. The first was a cookie of parmesan and basil, which looked a bit like a hot mess in a mini cupcake case, and remarkably like something I had made once that went wrong that I then covered with dessicated coconut in the hope of pulling together a passable disguise. Second was an olive oil macaroon with a home made olive on top (I may have misheard this because it tasted nothing like olive). It was exceptionally unexceptional. Finally there was the blob. A molecule of what was called olive oil, but which tasted suspiciously like a teetotal version of the Frogmother's dirrrty martini from earlier in the night. I felt slightly cheated that there was no Gray Goose or Ketal One in this. All in all, quite a poor start. That is, until the bread basket was put in front of us. There were about six choices of bread, of which I became obsessed with what turned out to be called the "butter roll". Oops. The Hubs and I destroyed this in record time. He liked the red pepper roll, which was good because the waiters brought back two more double portions. The double portions manifested because there was ongoing confusion about the one I liked, being the butter roll, an extra serving of which found its way to me on attempt three. All of this bread was served with a selection of olive oil. Oh dear God. Olive oil snobbery was a private vice of mine. How did it become publicly acceptable? As a tribute to a HK uber-girl, I opted for the Lambda oil, which was a little more flowery than I ordinarily like. Either way, as my new favourite HK food blogger would say, fat die me.

The first official course was "FOREST WALK - foie gras, truffle, mushroom, leaves", which led me to expect something along the lines of Heston Blumenthal's oak moss dish. Bo'innovation's sex on the beach would have been closer to it. It was essentially a creative take on foie gras on brioche. In this case, the foie was moulded into the shape of girolles and the like, served with a cylinder of brioche toasted to look like a log. I loved what they had done with it from a presentation aspect, but from a taste perspective it was decidedly average. In fact, I prefer the foie gras with girolles from Monsieur Chatte especially with some fig paste).

Next up (and with no more bread passing our lips for the rest of the evening) was "ONION - french, organic, consomme, egg, cheese, gold, tea bag". So, really, french onion soup. A rice paper "tea bag" of chives and god leaf was put in a teapot and covered in consomme (why not have dehydrated consomme in the tea bag too?). This was then poured into a cup with a dollop of egg and cheese in it. This was delicious though I do like the cheesy crouton and almost gravy like texture of the onion soup that I associate with bistros. I realise that I am a heathen. Amusingly, the wrapper for the tea bag said "Decaffeinated". Phew.

"LAMB - welsh, rhug estate, organic, shoulder, stew, natural jus" was next, with no threats from Gwen Stefani. This really told me nothing about what to expect, but I imagined a large Welsh R(h)ugby boy when I read it. The reality was a cellophane wrapped chunk of meaty goodness. When I saw it appear in its gift-wrapped glory, I thought it was sous vide. Eating it, I think it was actually braised. Either way, I really enjoyed this. From my perspective this was the turning point in the menu, where the focus became the food. The meat was tender and had that slight stickiness that I associate with dissolved collagen. The vegetables, served in thinly sliced discs, were perfectly al dente and of flavours that complemented the lamb and its "jus".

The star of the evening was next: "LOBSTER - brittany, rose, caviar, beetroot, fennel, lobster oil". This was heavenly. Absolutely perfect and easily the best lobster dish I have ever had in a restaurant, apologies to Scalini's spaghetti. Until this moment, I genuinely believed that lobster is best served fresh off a bbq and with garlic butter. Now I know better, though I will never be able to replicate it, which is frustrating. The texture of the lobster changed depending on which section you were inhaling, which I consider to be the hallmark of perfectly cooked shellfish. The flavours worked perfectly, though I don't recall rose. I would go again just to have this dish.

Sadly, it was hard for anything to come after that dish. The "WALNUT - hazelnut, raspberry, armagnac, snow" seemed very ordinary in taste, though I liked the idea of cracking through the shell of the "walnut" to get to the jelly-like filling. I suspect my tastebuds were overwhelmed after two old fashioneds, a G&T and all that food, so perhaps I am doing this dish an injustice. Similarly, the petit ones (a truffle. To me, it only counts as petit fours if there are four of them because I am literally minded and I don't care if it actually means something about an oven, this is actually the best ever juxtaposition of French and English and should be respected) actually didn't taste pleasant to me. All in all, I would say the pleasure of the meal was normally distributed, with an element of skew. Sometimes I hate the impact working in Finance has had on the way I think. At least I didn't say kurtosis.

So, having mentioned the cost of dining in Hong Kong, what was the damage from the dinner for two on a school night? HK$4,253 or GBP350. Not austere. This included four glasses of mid-priced wines (an Alsace unpronounceable for me, a Slovakian something for Hubs, two passable but forgettable reds). Reading back this post, I realise that I sound fairly negative, but the reality is that it was a very good meal. It just wasn't good at that price. If I put myself back to London standards, I would compare this meal to Marcus Wareing at the Berkeley, and I loved that restaurant. I just balk at the price.

Pierre experience to follow.

In a pathetic effort to revive this blog, I thought I'd include more about what we'd been doing. We aren't big New Year's Eve people, and almost always end up at home when the clock strikes. This year, we thought we'd give our helper the evening off and spend the night with RJ, so we celebrated at lunchtime. I'd been meaning to try the wine lunch at Amber for some time, and we took this opportunity to do that.

In Hong Kong, restaurants tend to be judged by their bread baskets. I still maintain that Cepage and Otto e Mezzo do it best.

Olive oil... yum

Parmasan foam, some kind of citrus jelly, rocket puree, tapioca pearls in truffle

Iberico croquette with curried juices. This is a fixture at Amber.

Beetroot and foie gras "chupa chup". Another fixture, though the first time I've heard it referred to as a Chupa Chup.

... all served with Veuve, which was very disappointing. Apart from my general lack of interest in Veuve, it didn't stand up to the spices of the croquette, or the depth of the foie gras.

There was a choice of three starters - Dungeness crab salad with creme fraiche, avocado, granny smith and cucumber; Royal Cabanon oyster #1 served over a oyster panna cotta, beetroot, shaved cauliflower, with a hazelnut and malt vinegar; or this...

The duck foie gras marinated in red wine (which we couldn't taste) prepared as a terrine with quince and toasted pistachio. There was also a pistachio shortbread, which was delicious. This was served with brioche. In the grand scheme of foie gras terrines, I think that this was fairly standard. Personally, I have a preference for pan-fried or a more robust pate (speaking of which, I would recommend the foie gras and girolles pate at Monsieur Chatte in Hong Kong).

This was the only course where we offered a choice of wine. It was between a pinot gris and a soave. We opted for the Mount Difficulty.

There was also a choice of middle course. The choices this time around were a kaboche squash volute with autumn truffle and white onion bread roll (my choice); Petuna ocean trout dorsal fin confit, belly seared with grennobolse (I can't read the menu here so may have made that up) and yarra valley caviar, leek in vinigarette (Hub's choice); Wild mushrooms over parmasan reggiano, with something and chicken juice.

Wine was a Dolcetto d'Alba. I can't remember if I did this for the Century wine challange, damnit. About midway through the course, they brought out the next wine, a chianti. I was confused by the random inflow of wine, but what Bacchus gives, I cannot deny. Even if it was fairly uninteresting, and ill suited to the food we had at that point in time.

The choice of mains were Atlantic cod roasted with thyme , salt roasted celeriac and Iberian pork neck in a cab sav (my term) reduction; Grefeuille lamb neck braised with spices, heirloom carrots, and dried apricots, hung yoghurt with lemon and sesame crisp; and the Pheasant pie that both the Hubs and I opted for. This was almost like a wellington, lined with foie gras and bacon, with a side of autumn salad with chesnuts and cranberries. I fully intend to rip this off sometime in the near future.

Perturbingly, the pie made me think of the Tefal Pie & Co gadget that my mother was given for Christmas. Could it be?

The wines stopped here, just as the we managed to convince the staff that we wanted to pick our cheeses rather than opt for a standard plate, which resulted in the frantic pulling together of a cheese trolley.

The cheeses were fairly good, though we lacked anything to eat with them for a few moments before fig and apricot bread was offered. After all the bread earlier, this felt like crossing some sort of line, and I had a huge hankering for poire william, but managed to resist. This is meant to be our austerity year, and indulging like that doesn't fit in.

Then came the desserts, plural.

A lemon and basil jelly with granny smith sorbet and a solo wild strawberry

Tiramisu inspired and delicious

Guanaja over speculoos & coffee ice cream

All in, I think that the meal was consistent, but the wine was a let down. I suspect that the objective was to offer good value, which it certainly does, at HK$798 (cheese an additional $179 or something) but I would have preferred more interesting choices given that I have had most of those options in bars. Amber is two Michelin, I think (though obviously that means I don't think much of it's potential), and so I would have expected better wines, or at least the ability to have chosen better wines. Something like this Luca Abrate event was more like what I had in mind, and could have been achieved, in effect, with wines from one house and explanatory notes (I like these pretentious events to be educational, particularly if mingling is required). The food was fairly noteworthy but the best thing about it was probably the Christofle everything. The cutlery, the tiffin box like thing the petit fours were served in... . Apparently, the subliminal messages worked because the Hubs and I went straight out and bought the champagne bucket we'd been lusting after since 2006. At least we know we'll like it!

I am planning a proper blog post about how I think RJ was an officer or strategist at Guantanamo Bay in his last life. Fingers crossed I manage to get there before the next cop-out opportunity.

Life on Track

For the first time since we moved to Hong Kong, life has fallen into place. Ms RiRi was here last week. On Friday we went to Da Ping Huo for dinner before wandering Lan Kwai Fong and having a drink or two. The next day we wandered what I think of as proper Hong Kong, and walked from Prince Edward down to Tsim Sha Tsui. This took all afternoon at leisure, but with enough sights and sounds to keep us intrigued. The evening ended with the light show and then cheesy movies back at the house. On the Sunday, we had a relaxing day involving movies with Billy Ray Cyrus in them, and some valued R&R.

That Monday, the Hubs and Ms RiRi went to Ocean Park, the Peak and assorted other Hong Kong tourist attractions. We grabbed a quick dinner of Korean barbecue and set off home.

Friday was Michael Buble, who managed to prove that Canadians actually could be hot, without being country and western singers. He didn't have the voice I hoped he would, perhaps because he'd done too many gigs already, though he did manage to sing without a microphone and project across the entire convention hall. He did, however, have amazing banter and managed to entertain the entire crowd.

Today (Sunday), I had book club (The Lacuna and then went to the Hong Kong Literary Festival. This made the week absolutely perfect. We saw "A Festival of Poetry", which was essentially a recital by Evelyn Lau, Arvind Mehrota and Benjamin Zephaniah. After that we saw Constance Briscoe, who spoke about Ugly and Beyond Ugly. It was such a good day. Evelyn Lau was an alright poet, I suppose, though I did feel like I could have written equivalent poetry. Arvind Mehrotra was clearly a great mind and I was happy to let his intellect wash over me. Benjamin Zephaniah, though, was amazing. Apart from being apparently immortal and able to defy the hands of time, he still throws out a great verse. All of which he had committed to memory. He struck me as someone who I'd love to have dinner with, and I must remember to add him to my list of people I'd like to have dinner with. Constance Briscoe was also a wonder. A recorder, barrister, mother, author ... I had to ask her how she fit it all in, and the answer was that she only sleeps five hours a night in the week.

Up ahead is the Hong Kong Artwalk, may this week be as good as the last!

Spicing Things Up

The Hubs and I had a visitor over the last five nights, the lovely Ms RiRi. We determined not to swamp her with Hong Kong from the off, and decided to ease into things with dinner at one of Hong Kong's Private Kitchens, Da Ping Huo . Da Ping Huo is a Szechuan husband-wife enterprise. She cooks and, at the end of the evening, sings in Chinese opera style.

I'd managed to get a table for ten, including the Resident Froggie. Her camera skills are vastly superior to mine, and so we left it to her to capture the deliciousness (link here). We were booked in for 9pm, the second service, but only sat down at about half past since the table needed to be turned. When we sat down, we were starving, and a good thing too, since the meal was twelve courses that took till about half eleven. We ordered a Pinot Blanc and a Pinot Gris in that order, and they held up well through the evening, given the spices that ensued. All in, dinner was HK$360 for an excellent dinner and drinks. Suffice to say, it's recommended, and I'll be attempting to take all visitors there going forward.

So, how do you do twelve courses for that value in Hong Kong? Well... lets see.
Courses 1-3 Appetisers
1. Chilled sweet and sour cucumbers
This was slightly strange in that sauce was like a soy sauce that was mixed with fish sauce but then had sugar thrown in. The texture was almost like a thin oyster sauce, but slightly gritty from the sugar. Unexpected but not unpleasant, though not necessarily something I would enjoy repeatedly.

2. What I'm calling Szechuan coleslaw
A shredded vegetable salad in a semi-spicy sauce, slathered with sesame seeds. Very much like achar, and my favourite of the starters.

3. Wide glass noodles with nuts
This was the spiciest of the appetisers and, to my mind, the spiciest dish of all. Even Singaporean me struggled slightly with this one! This had some of the table sputtering and looking around for flame retardants.

Course 4. Chicken pieces
This was a fairly unpopular course with the table, though I did go back for seconds. Possibly thirds. It was a kampong chicken, served cold with skin on and cut through bones. This is one of those things that can be a helluva awkward to eat in public. I, clearly, have no qualms about spitting bones out, and am fairly skilled at skinning a chicken armed with nothing but chopsticks and a soup spoon. More for me!!

Course 5. Chicken soup
An alright soup, I suppose. It was good respite for the tingly-tongue syndrome we were all suffering from, but was just a bit bland after the earlier assault on our tastebuds, sweatglands and blood vessels.

Course 6. Chilli beef
This was far and away the best course of the evening. Full of Asian style collagen, this was a myriad of textures and tastes. Even better, the gravy had a texture I love when on the jasmine rice, previously limited to Thai-curry-on-coconut-rice.

Course 7. Pork rib on sweet potato
Well, they called this pork rib on sweet potato. On the blogs I've seen, this dish is called sticky rice with pumpkin. I'm not sure if I was in a chilli coma at this stage, or possibly got short-changed on my serving. I didn't notice any sticky rice (mine was pretty much all meat and the bone from the rib), though the carbohydrate may well have been pumpkin. From the Froggie's picture, though, it does look like there was rice there. Now I feel cheated.

Course 8. Ma Po Tofu
What we were all waiting for. This was cited as being the spiciest dish, but I was beyond that by now. The tofu in ma po always tempers the spice and I was blissfully tempering.

Course 9. A slightly less redundant soup
This was a vegetable soup with a mystery vegetable that was a bit like a mini kai lan.

Course 10. Szechuan dumpling
I think I really liked this, but by this stage I was so full I couldn't manage the second dumpling and had to abandon it. A tragedy.

Course 11. Tau Hui
This was a fairly standard tau hui , but with a thicker than usual syrup, attap chee and nashi pears.

The End.

BUT WAIT. That's only 11 courses? Now I feel cheated. The internet tells me there was meant to be prawns but we seemed to have missed out on those. Having said that, none of us would have been able to fit it in. We were doggie bagging as it was! All in all, this was a great meal and a great evening. No doubt I'll be back.

10 Signs You Live in HK

1. You love to hike but a street is too far to cross in the sunshine, and a 500m walk requires public transport.

2. You think it’s acceptable to push an elderly person out of the way when walking between a train and an escalator. Maybe because there was none of these

3. 20 degrees Celsius is winter wear weather

4. You have a vitamin D deficiency

5. It’s worth paying four times more to not have to queue for a table

6. Living eighty floors up is residential

7. You want to read a book but can’t afford to

8. Clear skys are mythical

9. You think that Asia has a huge drink and party culture

10. Any tax is too much tax

Quarter Life Crisis

The recent press around how mid-life crises are hitting sooner rather then mid to later was amusing in light of my recent upheavals. When I finally found the ten point plan to beating a mid (or quarter, or whenever) life crisis, I thought I might pay it some consideration. Here is my interpretation of the ten point plan.

1. Remember the alternative

What is the alternative to being me? I could have been reincarnated as a cockroach, Angelina Jolie, Kate Gosselin (imagine it!), Snooki, a shark, Stephen Hawking, or just me.

I think I like me best out of those options. If I could be anyone else in the world, I think I would possibly be the Hubs, but that's only because life is what you make it and I think it's been made a good thing.

2. Don't presume every cough is lung cancer

One of the strange things about Hong Kong is how every desk I walk past has a host of pharmaceuticals on it. Most of the residents of Hong Kong are Vitamin D deprived, and so supplements are a staple here. The pollution is visible and makes everyone antioxidant aware, and so there are often additional supplements or health food products to cover those. Organic fruit is expensive, and so to make sure we get our five-a-day, the office imports fresh fruit from Australia and supplies a portion for every headcount. Having said that, the fear of toxins in Hong Kong is so deep that I often see people washing their peaches in with washing-up liquid. No joke. It's almost like they need to introduce chemicals to the organic produce.

3. Don't have an affair

There is nothing that could form a better disincentive to an affair than living in Hong Kong. Promiscuity is so blatant and abundant here that its not only stripped the mystique out of the whole thing, but has also introduced a whole host of additional risk factors. Like disease. Skanks are everywhere and the usual adage about how if they cheat once they'll probably cheat again needs updating here. Like into "if they cheat once they'll probably cheat again and again and again and probably have before with a disease-ridden whore".

4. Don't worry obsessively about work

Work? What work? Everyone is firing, and everyone is hiring. What's the worse that could happen?

5. If you are thinking of therapy, don't go in for analysis

How would therapy work when you're just feeling a little crappy about life and where it's taken you? Would a therapist be able to turn back time and bring back time that's been misused? I doubt it. The best to hope for would be a means to improve things going forward, which comes back down to you. It'd probably be better to buy a coaching book.

6. Don't transfer your neuroses on to your kids

Safe here!

7. Don't go buying midlife toys

These would be examples
- Aston Martin
- iPhone
- iPod
- BlackBerry
- Bang & Olufsen
- Harley-Davidson
- Nintendo Wii
- Ferrari
- Dom Perignon
- Vivienne Westwood
- Mini
- Chanel
- Ray Ban
- Alexander McQueen
- Jimmy Choo

Alright, so I cheated and removed the things that weren't purchases (iplayer, etc) but that still leaves 75% of the list. Slightly worryingly, I have items from two thirds of that list. Even more worryingly, I nominated brands for 2011 while I was on the link. Mine were Viajante, Riedel, Etsy and Brian Atwood . If any of these make it to the final list it may force me into a midlife crisis.

8. Turn off your BlackBerry

So much more complex than it seems. How do you power off a crackberry? My solution to date has been to hide it somewhere and then leave myself a note in an inconvenient place reminding me where it is.

9. Make time to go out

Is this real? Isn't the problem making time to stay in? I now promise myself not to make plans for four days a week - twice what I did in London. Life genuinely does feel a little bit better. Though my internet usage has gone up about ten times, and I'm paying for stationery more.

10. It will get better

Or you could distract yourself by role-playing through life pretending to be someone else, researching medical symptoms and associated disease, having an affair, working longer and harder, seeing a therapist, having a baby, buying a Nintendo Wii, checking your blackberry and spending your time at home with the Wii, disease-ridden whore (who would ideally also be your therapist and able to discuss symptoms with you in the flat you've bought under a psuedonym) and blackberry.

What Time Do You Call This?

A quirk of life in Hong Kong is that punctuality is far less valued here than it is in Europe, largely because of a dependency on taxis, which are vulnerable to black rain stormsand traffic. An awful combination if there ever was one. This was thrown into relief when the Hubs and I attended our first Chinese wedding in Hong Kong. The invitation arrived two months ago, and cited the reception time as 5pm and the dinner commencement as 8pm. It also contained a mini hong bao (or lai see in this part of the world), which had a token amount in it. I was totally befuddled by this and had to ask some local friends, who told me it was an efficient means of sending the thank-you lai see here. Apparently, it’s the norm here to present the givers of lai see with a thank you, also in the form of a lai see. I suppose it’s the equivalent of a thank you card in western culture. Albeit one that's sent with the invite.

Anyhow, we were frantic on the day of the wedding. It had been raining all day and it was nigh on impossible to get a taxi. We finally arrived at half past five, only to discover that we were apparently two hours too early. Apparently, the tradition of playing mahjong or poker prior to weddings has been scrapped in favour of not actually attending the reception. Shame-faced, we hid our embarrassment in a nearby bar until the wedding was ready to commence.

The banquet itself started at 9pm. Guest spent the hour beforehand eating wedding cake (which was an interesting fruit cake of the sponge and cream variety. It came with layers of hami melon and strawberry) and partaking of the soft drinks. Come 9pm, though, the eating got serious. Chinese banquets are not to be messed with and normally run from eight to sixteen courses. The wedding we were at was somewhere in between with a mere thirteen courses (excluding the wedding cake amuse). We munched through suckling pig (sans glowing eyes*, very sexual looking abalone, evil looking fish
, and copious amounts of goodness. We munched till midnight, pausing only to toast the couple on multiple occasions. The Hubs finally understood why the constant referencing to cognac in Double Impact wasn’t totally bizarre.

I only wish that the banquet hadn’t skipped all the games people play at Chinese weddings. Nothing like making the groom work for it!


* I couldn’t actually find an image that correctly depicts this. When I was younger, suckling pig used to arrive surrounded by pineapple rings cut to look like flowers, with a cherry where the hole is. To finish the presentation, fairy lights were stuffed in the cavity of the pig’s head, and two were pulled through the eye sockets and switched on, so that the pigs would have slightly demonic tendencies.

Space/Time Continuum

A local quirk we've noticed is the warping of the space/time continuum.

When we moved into our apartment, we were told that it would take two weeks to get the residents card made up. This has now been postponed to a whopping two months. We were told that the broken boiler would take up to five days to fix. The latest estimate is a month. The furniture we bought was to be delivered at the end of July, which is apparently the same as August. The furniture order was to take ten weeks, not thirteen. Most recently, I dropped my watch off for repairs. I was asked if I wanted to wait twenty minutes for the quote. I guess it's a good thing that I didn't since it's going to take fourteen days.

Maybe I shouldn't have agreed to move here for a year.

Living in Hong Kong in 2010

When the Hubs and I arrived in Hong Kong, we were presented with a copy of Living in Hong Kong 2010, a book published by the American Chamber of Commerce, or "AmCham" in line with the local propensity for abbreviation. I skimmed through the book in the back seat of the car that was showing us around Hong Kong, and vaguely noted a section called "Adjusting to life in HK", which I stumbled across again today. Since I was told that I sounded more American than Kami (who is California born and bred) on Sunday, I thought I'd put my Americanism to the test to see how I did against what the book suggested I had in store. I've extracted it here in italics, apologies for any infringements. Grammatical eyesores are not mine.

Stage 1: Pre-Move
This stage begins as soon as the idea of moving to Hong Kong is broached. It is a time of decision making on many fronts, gathering and assessing information and preparing yourself psychologically to cope with change.

It also involves all members of your family as they begin dealing with any negative feelings associated with the move. It is important to recognize these feelings so that you can deal with them constructively.

BAM! Down at the first hurdle. Since there wasn't much decision making involved (for me, anyway) with regards to moving to Hong Kong, I managed to hop, skip, jump over most of Stage 1. The information gathering I did extended as far as joining a book group, piggybacking on a dinner club and deciding where in Hong Kong I could bear to live. I suppose I also opened up Hong Kong dollar accounts through HSBC, the only option available from the UK. Oh, and I wrote to customs to confirm that I would be able to bring wine through untaxed. My family were surprised by the move, I suspect, though I am also fairly sure there weren't many negative feelings. The constructive solution of deciding to have a three bedroom flat in order to accommodate visitors may have contributed to that, though I suspect it was more to do with my family's tendency to live and let live. The Hubs' family was potentially more of a challenge, though they were sufficiently distracted by the latest addition to the family so as to not dwell on the abandonment by their only son.

Stage 2: Arrival
Arriving in Hong Kong seems to be a mixed bag of feelings and impressions. For some, everything new is interesting and exciting. For others, everything is a cause for concern or fear. At first, the novelty may be captivating. But it's still reassuring to find familiar foods and products and people that speak your language. This establishes your confidence to venture forth and keep learning more.

Hmm. Arriving in Hong Kong was a strange experience for us. The Hubs' firm had arranged for us to be put up in a serviced apartment for forty five days. We picked Harbourview Place in Kowloon, since I was phobic about Hong Kong island's domino-effect living. The flat was a one bedroom monument to storage solutions on the fifty seventh floor, with amazing views away from Hong Kong island, over Lantau and Kowloon. It is serviced daily and features high end products in the main. Since it's linked to the W hotel, we had access to the spa (too expensive for us) and rooftop pool. We also had access to room service. The building is also directly over Elements shopping centre and the airport express/Kowloon MTR station. Not exactly lacking in creature comforts.

In fact, it wasn't long before we went looking for interesting experiences, since things were too white bread for us. We managed to join in activities like Chinese cake-making and tea appreciation classes. We also started exploring the area on foot, which isn't something the locals advise since the weather is a force to be reckoned with. There isn't much to distinguish Hong Kong and Singapore, other than the price of goods and that not many people speak English to a conversational level. The main differences between Hong Kong and London would probably be the language, cost, weather and proximity (by which I mean the proximity of buildings). Personally, I found the crowds and intensely slow moving people a shock, as well as the attitude towards spending.

It has to be said though: it isn't difficult to find familiar foods here. There is definitely something for everyone, possibly to a higher standard than may be easily accessed in the West. For example, there are steak houses aplenty, but there's no entrecote here, just aged premium cuts and wagyu everywhere. As a Singaporean, I do struggle somewhat to find my comfort foods, but that isn't new after London. There isn't as much outdoor dining as I'd expected, so there isn't prata, or chilli crab. There are, however, Breadtalk and its incarnations, so I'm a happier bunny in this regard.

Even easier than finding familiar foods is finding someone who speaks your language, assuming that language is Chinese, English, American, French, German, Malay, Tagalog or Indian.

I think I'm past this stage.

Stage 3: Growing Awareness
After the early fascination with all things new and different, you will become aware of the many differences in a new culture. Within the first few weeks or months, you may begin to feel overwhelmed and experience nervous tension. Depending on personal factors, you may start to feel alienated, lonely, even depressed.

During this stage, it is important to be sensitive to your own needs, and the needs of your family members and to provide extra support to each other.

I'm inclined to claim that I've been feeling largely underwhelmed so far, but perhaps I'm just alienated, lonely and even depressed. Being stuck at home bored out of my mind on gardening leave might have something to do with it, but I should probably be sensitive to my own needs and deal with this the best way I know how. That is, with shops and spas. This will support the needs of my family member since I will be cheerful and euphoric after.

Stage 4: Turning Point
At this stage you may find yourself defending your own values, while criticizing and rejecting other value systems. The most familiar symptom of this stage is criticizing the manners and institutions of local people. You'll hear frequent griping whenever recent expatriates gather.

Although this complaining may be ugly, it still has its healthy aspects. It indicates an increasing awareness of the 'real' Hong Kong that is necessary for eventual acceptance of the culture and the people. If you persist though this stage, you will have a deeper appreciation of Hong Kong.

I think I may have jumped the gun on this one. The things that bother me here (other than the crazy prices) haven't been unexpected and so I suspect I had a head start on this stage. I've never been a fan of expatriate bitching, so try to refrain, though I may pipe up when a pregnant lady is pushed over on the rush to the MTR, or a stranger spits phlegm at my feet (I tend to only permit ex boyfriends to do this). There is something distasteful about people who choose to live somewhere different and then constantly complain about those differences. Acceptance is the key to zen, so while I may moan in the comfort of my home, I try to avoid it as a general practice.

Stage 5: Feeling at Home
Persisting through the first stages will pay off. You'll feel more relaxed in your new environment and able to cope with life in Hong Kong. You will find yourself more tolerant, self-sufficient and objective. And you will derive pleasure from an appreciation of both your own culture and that of Hong Kong.

Hmm. I do like the new flat. Ned Kelly's Last Stand is cool. The cinemas are good. My maid is good and seems reliable. The steroid injections are making my hair grow back. Could this be the start of a new, more positive me? Never say never!

Round Robin

... Ok, I know it's not Christmas but I thought I'd write to let everyone know how it's been.




It has been wet and not so wild. It may be summer here but there have been some hard core thunderstorms. People here are obsessed with the weather, and there are updates everywhere. I can tell you that the storms so far have been Amber ranked, so God only knows what defcon three will be like. There are more Hunter wellies treading the streets here than in London, the Cotswolds and Glastonbury put together. It is paradoxical that I made it twelve years I'm England without an umbrella only to get to South East Asia and drown. I think I need a fashion poncho.

Speaking of treading the streets, I have a feeling that the Olsen's came here for inspiration. It sort of looks like people have taken Japanese street fashion and then bought a few backcatalogue editions of Grazia to pull their wardrobe together. At the moment there is actually a hefty smattering of Patricia Fields too. I tried to get a photograph of a guy on the MTR (ie. the tube or subway, but cleaner and with much more people) who was wearing a quilted Chanel tote, see-through tank top, harem pants and deck shoes. Unfortunately, it's illegal to take pictures on the MTR, and also he saw me and took offence after he realised I wasn't working for a fashion magazine. Don't get me wrong, I understand that fashion is very subjective, and it's better to be forward than on trend, but this dude was like a fashion genetics-splicing-incident. The locals here seem to be 45% fashion followers, 45% mainlander style and 10% genuinely stunning people.

That 10% goes a long way though. The expat community on Hong Kong island seems to be large, or at least very prominent. It also isn't particularly attractive. I caveat this, though. With the World Cup on, things have toned down somewhat, since people are keeping anti social hours and tend to be off the streets. It's entirely possible there is a nest of alphas hiding in a sports bar somewhere I haven't been. Based on where I have been though, it sure ain't purty. The stereotypes still stand, and you can see them everywhere. The bright side is that there seems to be much less of the 60/20 age pairings and more of the 30/20 age pairings. The awkward thing is that in the 30/20, a lot of the girls here are of the build that I associate with European children, which is really disconcerting. The flip side is that the FILTH stereotype also stands, and the blokes aren't exactly prizes. I have seen a grand total of three good looking men since I got here. Sadly, I didn't know any of them and still don't. The women generally look great and are often hardbodies. The ones I've spoken to tell me it's because the gym is a big piece of their social scene here, since the island can be a dating black hole for them.

Dating aside, the social scene here is dominated by women. There are drinks like Thirsty Thursday on all the time, and the attendees are typically 90% women. I suspect this is because women are generally more into the networking scene here, whilst the boys tend to bond in bars. Since I arrived here three weeks ago (on Wednesday!), I've had cake making, ceramics, molecular mixology, La Perla drinks and some work drinks. This is on top of general meeting up with friends, or dates with the Hubs. It's been difficult to find the time to explore! Although, we have managed to fit in a few strolls around deep dark Mong Kok and the more cosmopolitan (ie. it's touristy and consists of one shopping centre next to another and another and another etc.) Tsim Sha Tsui. We got to see the Bird Market (which managed to keep going despite Avian flu), Flower market and Goldfish Street. We rode the ferry across the harbour and watched the light show from various points on both sides. I had a foot massage and a Shanghai pedicure, after which I virtually dropped a shoe size. The Hubs had a posh haircut, which took about 2 hours. We've eaten out a lot ...

Which brings me to the food here. Local residents tend to make out that the food here is the best in the world, second only to perhaps Tokyo. While I would support the idea that Tokyo is probably the best in the world, I categorically would not place Hong Kong second. I appreciate that food and restaurants are always subjective, but from an objective perspective, I think there is some serious delusion here. Lets split the food scene into three parts - competing on a global scale, mid-range and standard*. One of my gripes about London was that there wasn't much in the "standard" range. You couldn't really find a decent meal for £5 or less, and by meal I mean a sit down and have a conversation-with experience. In the mid-range (£20 or less), things got markedly better while I was there, with places like Ciao Bella, Chez Lindsay and the chains opening up everywhere. Then on the "nice restaurant" front, I really thought London had a world-class offering. Automat, l'entrecote, Hole in the Wall, Fishworks, Dean Street Townhouse, Min Jiang etc all had good value offers at under £50. Then there's the pricier places like Viajante and Trompette at under or around £100, and what I thought of as the astronomical places like the Fat Duck, La Petite Maison and l'Enclume. When I was in California, I decided that there was a huge tick in the box for the "standard" stuff - I still have dreams about the smoked fish taco in Cayucos, and the burger at Hodads was insane value. Brophy Brothers, Casa and the restaurant-whose-name I never got in San Francisco convinced me that the mid-range was all covered. I struggled to find the low-end "nice restaurant" but was on holiday so probably just missed them. The pricier nice places were clearly available with places like Sierra Mar.. The French Laundry and Eiffel Tower were ticks in the astronomical category. The point I make here is that you generally get what you pay for, since in most places a bad pitch means a restaurant closes. No one will pay if there isn't value to be had.

Not true here.

The first thing to be said is that pretty much everyone in Hong Kong is a foodie. There are hundreds of restaurants and people from all over the world hankering for a taste of home, as well as a curious local population. What this unfortunately means is that standards can be low. If you dig local food, you can find lots of good to great food for under £5. I tend to hit these at lunch and really like the chains like 360 and Cafe de Coral, as well as the little hawker stalls, though these typically involve miming or Mandarin**. In the mid-range, I think there are a fair amount of decent places, like Crystal Jade and Tasty's, though there aren't many for under £20 that aren't Asian. In that range it seems to be non-Chinese Asian in the main. Then you get to the "nice restaurant" prices. At the lower end you can find places like La Creperie, Cucina and Sen-Ryo, but there is normally a bit of a sacrifice involved. For example, La Creperie had some marked organisational and service issues, Cucina had dripping air conditioning and forgot about dessert, and Sen-Ryo lacked walls and got the order wrong. A restaurant that, based on its offer, should be in this category, was Zuma, which also had some organisational issues. Unfortunately, Zuma here was priced like its London equivalent and just wasn't good enough for that price. Similarly, Cafe Gray, which was also in the over and around £100 range, was so mediocre I genuinely felt cheated and wanted to make a scene. Then, you get to the good guys. I have had two really good meals here, both at restaurants that feature on my favourite restaurant rankings (Hong Kong has four and I'd already been to one). One was traditional French at Amber, which had the best service I've experienced since 2007 (Claridges, the night I fell asleep at the table). The other was a semi-molecular meal at Bo'Innovation, which is the first restaurant I've been to that takes itself seriously but still has a sense of humour (spot the most bizzare dish ever in the link). I've already said too much on food for this post, since I'm potentially starting a seperate blog for food and cooking, but the summary is this: In Hong Kong there is only cheap and cheerful, or close to astronimical, unless you want to feel like a mark. There is a huge gap in the market here for somewhere decent, with great ambiance and great food, that isn't going to make your eyes water. This is based on three weeks here though, so no doubt there's plenty of time to find otherwise.

I have to admit, I wasn't actually sure if Cucina's dripping air conditioning was worth mentioning as a negative, since drips are a fairly everyday thing in Hong Kong. You can't walk down a street, or sit down in a restaurant, without an air conditioning unit providing you with an impromptu shower. This is on top of all the rain! One plus is that the infrastructure here is fairly sound, and there are covered walkways or cut-throughs to most places. The only thing is, these are difficult to navigate when you're in a hurry. Don't get me wrong, they are spacious and wide. It's just that Hong Kong is a crowded island. There are people everywhere all the time. The problem is that these people don't walk at the pace you'd expect, by which I mean they walk to the half beat. This is fine if you can get around them, but people tend to walk in threes or wavering pairs, and so it's difficult to get around them without barging them out of the way, which is actually what happens here. Admittedly, being taller than most people on the street helps me out a little bit here, though it did take some getting used to.

Being taller does have it's downsides though. The flats here are small and made for little people. They are also measured in a different way to what I'd expected. Basically there are "gross" and "net" square footages, and everyone advertises on the gross square footage, with the rent approximately reflecting the size. The difference between the two isn't built-in furniture, which is what I'd been expecting. It's actually a share of common areas such as the lobby, hallways and gyms. The reason this is particularly counter-intuitive is that you still have to pay management rates and gym fees on top of the rent. Not to mention that floorplans have the gross square footage and is marked "not to scale", which it couldn't be, since all those common areas aren't on the floor plan at all. The "net" square footage discounts these but ignores built-in furniture, which often doesn't exist in the buy to lets. The impact of this varies but generally speaking the newer aprtments, which come with everything from pools to indoor golf simulators to outdoor go-karting ranges, tend to be 60-75% usable space. The older apartments tend to be 75-80% usable, and the walk-ups tend to the nineties. The other thing that is different to what I think of as the norm is that tenancy agreements are between landlord and tenant. The agencies don't have an ongoing relationship with tenants and make money based purely on getting the property rented out. There are ordinarily two agents, one for the landlord and one for the tenant, and they get paid half a month's rent by who they represent as their commission. We were looking at 3 bedroom flats in Kowloon (commonly referred to as "the Dark Side" since some taxis will refuse to go there and expats generally reject it as a place to live)of at least a thousand (usuable) square feet, and typically these ask for around HK$50,000 a pop, which means that everytime a place is rented out, an agency earns HK$25,000 a side. On top of this, a holding deposit of a month's rent is paid once an offer is accepted, which becomes the first month's rent. Then a deposit of two months rent is paid over too. What all this means is that before you can move in anywhere, you're conceptually down HK$175,000, or almost £15,000 if you're in England. Ouch. All that before you think about things like wardrobes and a bed.

This tendency to have lump sums paid up front also shows up in mobile phone plans. We'd decided to go with a provider who was mid-range price-wise, but with the strongest reputation for service. The packages were fairly alright, coming in at about thirty pounds for an unlimited data package. A pound a day is absolutely worth gmail and google maps to me. The drama came when we had to pay a random amount upfront which would then be paid back over the life of the phone contract. Phone contracts here generally run for two years as a minimum, and the upfront cost was HK$5,525 each, or £500. Did I say, ouch?!

I have been a little flabbergasted by all this, if I'm honest. When I speak to the locals and ask them how they survive, they normally tell me they have to live closer to China, with their parents, or sell their souls to an investment bank. They've been priced out of most places and shop in China for luxuries and furniture, or shop in street markets. When I think about the number of shopping centres here, that's insanely unfair. Local legislature has been forcing cultural and lifestyle changes that a lot of the locals don't like, the latest example being the new policy currently being passed through the process, which requires the renewal of market stallholder licenses every three years. This may sound standard, but in Hong Kong it's a huge departure from the heriditary license structure. Stallholders will no longer be able to pass their licenses to their heirs, ensuring that they have a vocation.

I realise this sounds negative and I may sound like a hater when I'm not (admittedly to my surprise). I'm actually enjoying being back in Asia. Food aside, the MTR is affordable and works all the time, which is a huge improvement from London. Taxis are affordable if you're not in a hurry. People are open and friendly, much more so than I would have expected. Of course, there's domestic help, if you can find someone trustworthy, but that's a global problem. Taxes are good and I am tall. The cinemas here are cheap and up to date, which is a massive plus. If you can afford to spend, there is a lot available here that wouldn't necessarily be available elsewhere. For example, I'm wangling a junk to take us out to a neighbouring island for the Hubs' birthday. Speaking Mandarin and having questionable ethics has meant that we've been able to negotiate a good rent for a great apartment, and find furniture suppliers who hopefully will help us turn it into a home. Having a safe haven off the island has made me slightly more of a homebody, which is good. I am much better rested and condominium/service apartment living means we can go to the gym, so I'm a little healthier. I'm cooking more and drinking less, something I've been meaning to do for awhile. I am also optimistic about work here. The environment is bullish and everyone is positive as a result, a massive step change from Europe lately. I've just tried to summarise the things I've noticed as different to what I've experienced in the last couple of decades.

*This is based on a two course dinner for one with a shared bottle of decent wine and a coffee. The meals in the "astronomical" range are tasting menus with either wine pairings or one shared bottle of wine.

** I've had some bad experiences here since it's sometimes interpreted as a suggestion that the person you're speaking to is a Mainland Chinese person, which is pretty much the local equivalent to an Eastern European in London, and people sometimes take offence. I suspect a lot of this is driven by the wealth flowing into Hong Kong and driving up prices being Chinese wealth.