A real Chinese meal

Last Friday evening we visited a very traditional Chinese restaurant for a very traditional Chinese meal called a 'hot pot'. The evening was organised by Billy who works in the airport office and is one of the nicest guys you could ever wish to meet. Billy has gone out of his way to make me feel at home in Hong Kong and I knew his suggestion to try a traditional hot pot would be a good night out. Khamma made her way to the airport where we met Billy, Surria and Phil and eventually caught the high speed train into Central Hong Kong. After a short taxi ride I believe we arrived in an area on the west side of Hong Kong Island between Sai Ying Pun and Kennedy Town. The area was unfamiliar and we seemed to move from a highway to a road to a street to an alley in the space of a hundred yards. It felt closer to an old Chinese world than the bright Johnny Foreigner lights and noise and bling of the Soho area in Central. I was the only white person in sight as we walked down a brightly lit alley way with the light rain adding to the atmosphere. I was certain that George Smiley was hiding in the shadows and we were being led to an opium den in a twist of fate skillfully crafted by the pen of John Le Carre.

Well our excitement was sharpened in a different way than the adventures of the cold war spies in 1970's Asia as we climbed up the wide stone steps of a former loading bay to a warehouse into the dining area of a Hot Pot restaurant. There was nothing pretentious in the decor and furnishings; the strip lighting and plastic table covered with cling film made sure that if you had any doubt at all, this was going to be a messy meal. Even the yellow and white uniform of the San Miguel beer girl failed to add any glamour or colour to the scene.

We were completely in the hands of Billy and we left ordering the food to him as we settled back into the small hard plastic chairs that had probably been there before the room became a restaurant. The tables were full with local Chinese enjoying the hot pot and volumes of drink ranging from the San Miguel beer supplied by the beer girl to bring your own wine supplied by the guests. The volume of chatter increasing in direct proportion to the consumption of alcohol. This was hard core dining.

In the centre of the table was a large gas ring very similar to one my Grandma had about forty years ago, except considerably larger. It probably was just as dangerous however as my leg caught the gas pipe which snaked underneath the table from a hole in the floor. The idea of the hot pot is put a base stock into a metal pot and boil selected dishes ranging from pig's legs to octopus. It's a bit like a Chinese fondue but more basic and a lot more fun.

The cooking pot with bean curd and the ladle with turnips

We started with bringing the base stock up to boiling point. It had a very thin milky texture with a strong taste of pepper. Billy ordered pig's leg bones and dumped them into the pot to strengthen the stock and add flavour and warm up the meat. Meanwhile we mixed raw and lightly toasted garlic and chillies with soy sauce to make a dip for the forthcoming delicacies.

The service provided by the staff was excellent and I would say much more attentive than the average downtown restaurant where the waiters work as if they were doing you a favour. Here in deep, deep Hong Kong eating is a passion and the customer is much more demanding so the service has to match or the restaurant will die. A clever idea is to turn the tea pot lid upside down when a top up is required. This is easily spotted and the teapot whisked away to be replenished in a jiffy. The same attention is lavished by the beer girl, but I suspect she was motivated by the commission on selling as many San Miguels as possible.

Thinly cut strips of beef and Chinese mushrooms

Anyway the next 'course' arrived which was thinly cut strips of dark beef cut from the shoulder which apparently is the most succulent part of the cow. The strips were folded into a personal ladle, about the size of a golf ball, and placed into the boiling pot and after a minute or two it was ready to eat. Next to arrive was Chinese mushrooms followed by a sticky guey fish paste, octopus, dried fish skin coated with breadcrumbs, strips of bean curd, vegetable dumplings, pork dumplings, turnips and various salad leaves. Oh and of course steamed rice. You selected which ingredient you wanted to eat and added it to the pot and simply took it out when it was cooked to your liking. As the stock was reduced the waiter added a little more. It seemed like an endless feast, and it was.

From the back left side; dumplings, octopus, fish paste, dried fish skins, San Miguel

Dumplings

I was a little concerned for the welfare of my stomach and other vital organs but I need not have worried, everything was working fine on Saturday. The whole meal and several beers only came to 700HK$ which is about 60GBP for 5 people. That is good value anywhere, and the added experience was very special. Thanks to local knowledge from Billy.

Billy holding a pig leg

As we left to catch the last tram home I caught a glimpse of a figure scurrying in a dark corner. He was carrying several smoker's pipes and heat lamps and he opened a small metal studded door which led into a dimly lit room occupied by several well dressed people reclining on sofas. The room was decorated with tobacco tinted embossed wallpaper with four or five badly hung paintings of harbour scenes from 1850's Shanghai. A thin smoke with an odour of intoxicating sweet herbs drifted into the alley. As he closed the door he turned and stared menacingly directly at me with his roving glass eye. The ghost of the opium den vanished as the misty humid rain began to fall harder and we left the old China world and returned to the new China on the Gold Coast.

Why do bloggers blog?

It has been more than a couple since I put finger to keyboard and blogged about what is going on in Asia. Khamma has been staying with me in Hong Kong and has managed to distract me so that grabbing an hour or so to tell a few stories has been difficult. It is also very busy in Hong Kong International Airport with the project sometimes going ok and most times not going anywhere, but enough of that.

I have missed my blogging moments and that made me think why should I miss recording a few funny stories about cultural differences and allowing people into my little world. There is a constant amount of chatter between seasoned bloggers on this subject and I am sure you can follow the links to a couple of sites where the authors come clean about why they indulge in blogging.

For me it is a way of letting friends and family know what I am up to, although this is not a substitute for a personal email. I'm not sure how many people regularly drop by for a catch up but I am sometimes surprised when people make it known that they do. It is very pleasing that out of all the rich veins of information available some people can search out my tiny corner of cyberspace.

I also blog to keep a sort journal of my time here in Asia. I have been keeping journals of my travels since 1986 when I travelled to Canada to find space during a particularly troubled time of my life. My collection of travel journals now consists of Nepal, India, Italy, Kenya, Tanzania, Namibia, Botswana, Finland, Latvia, Estonia, Germany, France, USA, Norway, China, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, Czech Republic, Poland, Turkey and Orkney Island! I am impressed with that list but I get more pleasure from remembering the stories, often in vivid colour. The tradition lives on in the electronic age of the blog.

I'm not one for trying to justify doing this or that through the blog, I prefer to record what has happened and to let the future sort itself out. That way is exciting for me and I often get a kick out looking back over twelve months and thinking how on earth I have managed to end up where I am with everything that goes on in between.

I am more inclined to write about something that intrigues me or I find interesting and fascinating, usually something inconsequential and unusual. I like to share those moments especially if I can't share the real moment because most of the time I am alone.

So there's some catching up to do over the next few days, including a real Chinese meal at a restaurant in deepest darkest Hong Kong, a trip to see the 'Dollar' Buddha and a fascinating visit to the site of the Lost City of Kowloon which I promise will leave you asking for more. A few details to report from Thamuang, including a sad story about Cookie, my favourite dog, who we think has had a fight with a snake and has come off worst!

Read on dear reader, whoever and where ever you are! Thanks for dropping by.

1 CAR 1 Obituary

You may remember that when we visited the UK last Christmas Khamma and I had more than our fair share of bad luck. One of the incidents of the troubled holiday was the theft of the car we had hired from 1-CAR-1, and the subsequent lack of sympathy and woeful customer care they displayed as they literally left us stranded after their point blank refusal to replace the car. In the process certain individuals made us feel like the accused rather than the victims of an unpleasant experience by the assumption that until the car was recovered we were blacklisted and would not enter into another agreement with us. This maybe common practice in the cheap and dirty end of the car hire market, but that didn’t placate me at the time.
Now it seems that 1-CAR-1 is now on the receiving end of some bad luck because it is announced on their website that they have been put into administration. (Thanks for tip Bruce).
‘Oh dear’ Khamma said. ‘Up to them’ she added.
I can’t say I am pleased and overjoyed because there will be several good people that were employed deep within this tin pot organisation that deserve a lot better than a letter from the administrator. I didn’t talk to any of them during my brief acrimonious relationship, but they will be in there somewhere and I feel for them. It is the senior and middle managers I direct my jibes to; the ones who thought they knew how to treat their staff and talk to customers, the same ones who cowardly instructed their staff to fob off their ‘valued’ customers and treat them as they did, without respect. Well they do so no more! I imagine they are sat home watching ‘infomercials’ and licking their wounds. I imagine the unfortunate staff, the real people, are wondering that if, just if, they had been managed to treat all their customers with a little bit of courtesy and respect they might just be still in a job.
‘Never mind’ said Khamma. Amen to that!

Macau - where Europe meets Asia

The Cobbles of Macau

Macau lies sixty kilometres to the west of Hong Kong and is also a SAR (Special Administrative Region) like its near neighbour. It was the first part of Asia to be colonised and was also the last region to be handed back when the Chinese resumed sovereignty in 1999. The Portuguese arrived in 1557 and rented Macau as a trading post between East Asia and Europe. Trading soon began to decline and Macau became a back water and when the British colonised Hong Kong Macau was all but wiped off the map. In the 1900's immigrants fleeing the ravages of war in Japan and communist control in China gradually arrived and modest economic growth was briefly re-started. However the rise and rise of Hong Kong as a world financial centre failed to attract adequate foreign investment and by the 1970's Macau had become a problem to Portugal and they tried unsuccessfully to hand it back to China. However by 1999 an agreement was reached and finally control was back with Beijing and Central Office. Nowadays much of the Portuguese influence remains in the culture, food and architecture, but this small country now survives on its casinos and the day trippers from HK.

My boss has been staying with me this week and we share a sense of fun and enthusiasm for new experiences, so when Billy, a colleague in the office, suggested a trip Macau we quickly accepted. Going with a local guide always helps to find places that little bit quicker and to appreciate the sights and sounds otherwise missed by tramping around solo. There is an almost constant procession of high speed catamarans carrying up to 400 people operating twenty fours a day between Hong Kong and Macau. So with a full day ahead we boarded the 10.30 ferry and one hour later I was crossing my thirty ninth different border control. Passport control was organised but the arriving passengers were impatient to move on and the officials were not exactly keen on delaying them either. The majority of visitors to Macau want to gamble in the many casinos and mini buses lie in wait to transfer them as quickly as possible to the tables of baccarat, blackjack, boule, dai siu, fan tan, pai kao and roulette.

The Grand Lisboa Hotel and Casino

We had no desire to part with our dollars so quickly and we caught a taxi for the short journey to Monte Fort which was built in the early 1600's by Jesuit monks. If necessary the monks could survive a siege for up to two years in Monte Fort, but there was only ever one notable incursion and since 1622 the cannons surrounding the perimeter walls have remained silent. Next to the fort are the ruins of the church of Saint Paul. Christianity is very evident in Macau and this is one of China's most important sites to the influence and history of the Christian religion. Nowadays there are crowds of people crawling over the well preserved ruins and viewing the surviving relics in the crypt.

Billy is very knowledgeable about local food and he appeared with very tasty pie like delicacies baked on the side of what appeared to be an oil drum! The meaty contents were spiced with peppers and piping hot. Why people were queuing for a Big Mac I have no idea when this superior product was so much better. This was followed with custard like tart, also hot and delicious. The narrow streets in old Macau have a very Mediterranean atmosphere although the shops are mainly Chinese. Noticeably the road signs are predominately Portuguese followed by the Chinese translation.

The A-Ma Temple

One of the most important Chinese temples in Macau is the A-Ma temple. There has been a temple on this site since before the Portuguese arrived and being close to the harbour it is very important to the fishermen who make offerings before they leave for the sea and returning to give thanks for a safe trip. A short walk away, but up a steep hill lies Penna Hill where, on much clearer day than we had, there is a fine view overlooking Macau town and the Pearl River into China. A Catholic church sits on the hill and in the garden leading to the entrance was a man selling souvenirs. His stock was mainly overpriced Chairman Mao and Communist artifacts but his conversation was that since the Macau had returned to Chinese control the tourist business had flopped because now everybody now wanted to go to mainland China, and the Chinese tourists visiting Macau did not want to buy Chinese souvenirs when they probably had draws full of the stuff back home.

At some point during the day we had to visit a casino so we somewhat reluctantly went to the Las Vagas stylised Sands Hotel. The garish gold exterior was highly polished and reflected sparkle dust to lure the punter into a web of optimism that they could leave with more money than they entered with! This of course assumes they run the gauntlet of security where bags have to deposited at entrance, screened by the airport like security scanners and don't mind being watched by hundreds of CCTV cameras and followed by ranks of security staff who seem to latch onto everybody as soon as you enter the gaming room. We watched as people played baccarat which I am told is easy to play, and so in my book easy to lose. I saw $1,000 bills being played and it seemed the banker was having a good day. Other games like Dai Siu were popular. This is a game played by betting on the score of three dice which are thrown in a covered glass box. We lasted twenty minutes and spent nothing therefore leaving with considerably more than everybody else.

Finally we visited a restaurant with a Las Vegas sounding name but was as traditional Macau style as we could find and served excellent food including a local dish called African chicken which is grilled chicken with peppers and spices influenced from Goan (India) and east African recipes. A glass of Portuguese vintage port was a perfect end to a very enjoyable day.

Macau Tower - Next time!

The Big Thamuang Wedding

I mentioned that at wedding was taking place over the weekend in the village and Khamma told me that 1,000 people had been invited. Well, I know Khamma very well and she is not prone to exaggeration, so when she confirmed again that 1,000 people were attending the wedding, I have to accept her word.

She started helping with the preparations last Wednesday by making various sauces and mixes to be used in the cooking. I think she was using chillis and other spices and oils, but how much they know to produce is anybody's guess. This carried on into Thursday and then they started to set up the kitchens and fires. By Friday they were collecting tables and chairs from the temple and creating one of Thailand's biggest dining rooms. I can't imagine where all this was taking place because the streets are narrow and the houses are not very big. One thousand people do not easily absorb into the surroundings.

By Saturday they had four big cows and a pig to slaughter, butcher, cut into workable quantities and start cooking. I spoke to her on Saturday night and already 300 people had arrived and they were being fed and watered.

Khamma told me she got out of bed at 4am on Sunday morning and the catering started in earnest. The remaining 700 guests arrived soon after and the wedding ceremony started at 8am in the home of the bride. A couple of hours later the boys in the band performed their second gig of the week and it was all finished by 4pm and everybody had gone home.

I wish I had more information, but Khamma treated it as though this happens every week. She fell asleep on the sofa and Yo had to wake her. She told me she wanted to watch Manchester United and Spurs in the Carling Cup on the television, but that was too much and she went to bed.

Today there was more clearing up and apparently this afternoon they relaxed by the river at another restaurant no doubt recalling the stories and planning the next one.

Sorry I can't be more specific but I will hopefully see some pictures in a couple of weeks when Khamma comes up to Hong Kong.