Following an epically shit date with an ex-stripper (like a mid-range Merlot: nice body, flat character), I took a wander in the Sai Ying Pun neighbourhood and spied this lil Thai resto.
Thai on High occupies a small, open-fronted spot. It's a tidy, unpretentious space with super-high ceilings and mirrors on one side that give the teeny interior the illusion of space. Olive-grey banquettes and large blond wood tables make for comfortable places to lounge while the picture-heavy menu makes for a super helpful guide to dishes to choose from. It's a well thought-out operation from the same lady behind Kea's Kitchen (the Thai private kitchen on a boat in Aberdeen).
The menu is categorised by dish type, under which you'll get options for the main meat (the usual - moo, oink, cluck, blub... what does the fox say)/ veg. Alongside the options and photos, there's a list of ingredients which is handy if you've got one of those weirdy, weedy allergies.
Prawn tom zap, HK$88, will take you to a happy place. A well-seasoned, clear, sour soup that is clean on the palate and fragrant with lemongrass. Cheery, pert tiger prawns along with mushrooms (oyster, shiitake) and Thai basil prove to be some tasty flotsam.
Thinly sliced beef laab HK$88, was cooked medium and served with threads of strident kaffir leaf and a hint of toasted rice. Punchy raw red onion and zingy mint chime in with their brash flavours while the raw lettuce leaf wraps make for the perfect foil.
Southern Thai chicken curry HK$88 was super fun. A sunglow-coloured, creamy coconut sauce with red chilli freckles. Velvety, deeply savoury with a kick and a touch of sweetness. It comes with a side of rice, though we had ours with plain vermicelli noodles which swept up the sauce like a string mop.
Service is with a smile and the warmth of a two-bar heater, while food is comforting without being hefty (on your wallet or your duodenum). There was nothing that ruffled my plume, so if you are in that neighbourhood and you're looking for something a bit tasty, pass on the ex-stripper who lives around there and pop in this joint, I'll be shooting for Thai on High rather than thigh high from now on.
Thai on High, 39 High Street, Sai Ying Pun, Hong Kong
Tucked away on a teeny street under a Causeway Bay flyover, Tamashii is small on space but big on charm.
Cubby-holed counter-seating provides space for a dozen hunched over diners in a dark-wooded, quiet room. Caged bare-bulbs and a wall covered in corrugated aluminium adds a little 'Fight Club' to the cute den feel.
The menu printed on A5 paper outlines your four soup (all pork bone) noodle options: original pork bone HK$79, spicy tomato with salmon HK$89, squid ink with char siu and egg HK$89, plus a spinach version. It's in Chinese but the staff are super-helpful and chill.
After the soup noodle options there are checkboxes with Goldilocks-type decisions, though whereas she chose between soft/ medium/ hard bed and small/ medium/ large chair; your choices are for noodle cookedness and the amount of soy sauce you want in your soup.
As I kinda forgot whatever, I blocked it out fuckers that I have high cholesterol I went for the squid ink with tasty-bad crab tomalley and egg.
A hefty bowl of bouncey noodles in a steaming hot, brooding broth arrived. As well as a good fatty char siu and gunky-yolked egg there were quarantined portions of spring onion, seaweed, menma (bamboo) and sesame seeds. On the char siu island was the crab innards with a piece of gold leaf on top... and yes, it does indeed look like a Barbie doll did a wet, curly, bejewelled turd.
Everything is nicely cooked; the meat, the egg, the noodles but the trimmings are important because the broth is one-note. The crab tomalley adds richness, pungency and bitterness. The bamboo gives texture, while sesame and spring onions add mid-toned fragrance.
For a Hong Kong Autumn where there's sting in the wind, this bowl of soup noodles provide a satisfying bit of central heating. This meal did its job but the broth disappointingly lacked depth and interest. As Jean-Claude Van Damme recently showed us, it is entirely possible to be well-seasoned and meaty as well as surprising.
Tamashii Japanese Noodle, 18 Sharp Street West, Causeway Bay, Hong Kong
Open: Mon- Sat noon-3pm 6pm-9pm
... ah, I think I got it, he looks like a chubby Channing Tatum.
Now I've got that out of my system, let's kick off. Upper Modern Bistro is also good-sized and good-looking; a chic, modern space with statement adornments (large egg shapes that are matte and flat swoop across the ceiling). Interiors are misty grey but front windows are large and flood the space with warmth.
The French menu is a cheeky read; with concise descriptions of fun sounding dishes for lunch.
First to arrive, 63 degree egg with sauteed mushrooms and bellota ham, HK$78. Ham and eggs is a solid combo anyways but the quality of the ingredients in this version elevates it. A perfectly poached egg with a sunny & runny yolk held in place with a skirt of fried bread, along with intense, young chanterelles and deeply umamied bellota shavings on baby spinach.
Organic vegetables with herb salsa verde (HK$68) is a bashful description for what is a freakin' beautiful bouquet of buttery, spritely veg. Handsome baby carrots (so young they taste more green than sweet), haricot beans with bite, a mound of raw sprouted seeds and a pristine quarter lettuce.
Salmon toast with cauliflower and aruga HK$88 was comparably forgettable. Three pieces of toasted bread topped with silky shiitake mushrooms and smoked salmon, accompanied with a pot of cauliflower cream and aruga - the latter a superfluous addition with banker appeal.
Tomato salad with creamy burrata HK$118, an awesome bulb of burrata arrives with a Kim Kardashian wobble, cleaved cherry tomatoes dressed in an intense but clean reduction and speckled with microgreens. It's an uber-elegant iteration of a cheese and tomato pairing.
By the time the jambon and comte sandwich HK$98 with green salad came along with its generous slabs of juicy roasted ham and nutty-tang cheese, we were pretty much done. It has heft and flavour though not the mesmerising elegance of other dishes.
A tall glass of 'ginger spiced' soothed the a satisfied and distended gut; a nicely spiced drink, with an enduring zing while not overly sweet.
Service was spottier than a hormonal teenager. Smiles and goldfish memories (where's the menu, where's the water order, where's... anyone) were persistent as was a particular wait staff's itchy septum (the last time I ate boogers I was in first school and they were my own, so keep your fingers away from your nose, fella). But that just requires time and a course of antihistamines.
Upper Modern Bistro is a neat space with some beautifully presented, superbly-sourced, unpretentious eats with finesse. There is something about Philippe Orrico and, yknow,it might just be his cooking.
Upper Modern Bistro, 6-14 Elegance Court, Upper Street Station Street, Sheung Wan, Hong Kong
Open: Mon-Sat 11am-11pm
Tel: 2517 0977
www.upper-bistro.com
Aorta clogging bacon and cheese smothered on romaine heart.
Love lettuce straight from your heart. Oh yes.
Like Lindsay Lohan in her courtroom outfit, this dish from Saveur looks saintly but is all kind of 'screw you, virtue, ha ha ha HAHHH!' under that facade. It looks like a sensible vegetable dish, then your tastebuds pick up on the creamy, pungent blue cheese and dollops of savoury crisp bacon rind in the too-tasty-to-be-good-for-you tangy dressing (which is made from rendered bacon fat).
The texture of the virtuous romaine leaves are silky where it's caught the pan, while retaining a bit of crunchy rawness inside. Even the most hardcore vegetable hater (though am not sure there are any over the age of 5) can't help but want this. Just as a spoonful of sugar works for medicine, a fuckload of lard works for vegetation.
Serves 2 for a light lunch:
3 strips streaky bacon
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
2 heads of romaine lettuce, halved lengthwise, rinsed and dried
Salt & pepper
50g blue cheese
- Chop up the bacon and then fry on a medium heat until crisp and the fat has rendered off. Take the bacon out and put to one side, pour the rendered fat into a bowl and mix with the Worcestershire sauce, balsamic and olive oil.
- Heat a griddle pan to medium-high and place the halved romaine hearts cut-side down in. Cook for 2 minutes then turn and cook for another 2. Remove and place on your serving plate/s.
- Season with salt & pepper, drizzle with the pig fat dressing, bacon and crumble the blue cheese on top. Voila! Your wolf in sheep's clothing is done.
The landlord of this space must really like frozen desserts - previously occupied by frozen yoghurt joint, Yogo, this small space (which is taller than it is wide) now houses Via Tokyo with its bounty of Japanese soft-serve.
On the funky cusp between Causeway Bay and Tai Hang, it's a smart space - blond woods, lots of natural light, simple lines, embellishment provided by over-sized globe lampshades and a hanging egg chair in wicker. It seats about 15.
At the counter you'll find the menu on the boards above and handily, for anyone in a neckbrace, on laminated sheets by the till. It's extensive-looking though mainly just different configurations using the same handful of ingredients: plain or matcha soft-serve, mochi, puffed rice, fruit, caramel etc.
The affogato, HK$38, is perfect for those who are detoxing and
watching their weight to fuck right off. A wide coffee cup with
a decent swirl of plain soft-serve sits in one corner of the sleek wooden tray, in the other corner a double shot of espresso in a small milk jug. Once poured into the cup, a moat of metallic-astringent caffeine surrounds the frozen cream. It's bitter tones are fun against the creamy, milky-flavoured cream but the texture is inelegant with lots of large ice crystals.
A matcha soft-serve with shiratama (glutinous rice dumplings, much like mochi) and puffed rice, HK$45, came with a neat pot of black sugar caramel on the side. The bitter syrup was nice, the soft-serve rich but kinda dense with an intense matcha flavour that gave it an unpleasantly deep, bitter edge. The toppings added textural interest; the puffed rice were crisp and airy while the shiramata was gummy and gluey.
As with these freaking awesome celebrity make-unders, strip away the pretty presentation and you're left with judging by the substance.
While Via Tokyo is a stylish outlet and their frozen cream isn't total pants, there's also nothing you'd cream your pants over either. Still, as the landlord of 106-126 Leighton Road probably thinks, there's always a place for frozen dessert no matter what.
Via Tokyo, 106-126 Leighton Road, Causeway Bay, Hong Kong
Open: Mon-Fro 8am-10pm, Sat-Sun 9.30am-10pm
This week I got the offer of casual sex by a dude so well-built, I reckon he shucks turtles not oysters to kick off a meal.
In other beefy yet easy news, I ate at fast-food joint Caliburger.
Caliburger already has a branch in proper China, apparently it's a rip-off of In-N-Out Burger (red & yellow logos, wild vs In-N-Out's animal-style fries etc.).
But as In-N-Out haven't been arsed to open up here in the Kong (asides from two pop-ups in as many years), I ain't particularly bothered by the lack of originality (for fuck's sake, you're a burger joint, how much intellectual property rights can you bitchfight over...)
Located on Hennessy Road, a hop-skip-jump from Southorn Playground, Caliburger is a smart, bright space with blond-wood veneer tables and high-counters to rest your goods on; then Cheetos-orange chairs and stools to rest your glutes on. There are handy complimentary charging points for iPhone 5+, yeah, sorry paranoid Androids...
On the walls are creepy pictures of Californians doing Californian things like surfing and laughing while sat on car bonnets and dancing at gigs (which only seem to have five people there... must have been a Chris Brown concert) - am reckoning the Californian Tourist Board probably won't thank them for those portrayals. A flatscreen TV pointlessly plays an advert on loop telling you why you should go to Caliburger (we're already here you smart marketeers) and features a hot man who might be dressed like a chef but who cuts vegetables like, well, a model who doesn't even eat never mind cook.
At the counter, there's a concise menu to choose from. Burger, cheeseburger, double-up your burger, chicken burgers (with differing sauces), sides and shakes. Make your order, take your number, wait for them to yell it out - it's bingo with burgers.
A cheeseburger, HK$56, is pretty. Two puffy, sheeny buns packed with a mildly beefy meat patty and really good caramelised onions. Crisp lettuce and slices of tomato lift the carb/ protein heft. It's good albeit a lighter burger offering.
The chipotle bbq chicken sandwich HK$55 is a punchier affair, though all that flavour is in the sauce - smoky, spicy with a tingly heat of chillies. The chicken is proper meat rather than reformed mush; it's not that tasty but there's some salty cured bacon in there to bolster the meaty flavour. You also get a bunch of crisp, sweet onions as well as gherkin and tomatoes.
A portion of wild fries, HK$28, looks a touch regurgitated. The skin-on fries (crisp on the outside and fluffy in) don't have much potato flavour but the pink gunk that's slathered on top has plenty going on. A vinegary, creamy, savoury thousand island dressing with a layer of sweet caramelised onions and sunny-coloured processed cheese. You'll simultaneously rejoice and regret it - that fat hits high, followed by the knowledge this stuff is gonna stick to your intestinal tract till the day you die.
Much like casual sex, Caliburger is a guilty pleasure that I'm partial to now and again. If you're gonna go for it, you might as well double up on the cheese and the burger (double cheeseburger HK$68) for something a bit more satisfying. It'll resemble a gateau of meat and dairy - but who doesn't like a beefcake.
Caliburger, 68-76 Hennessy Road, Wan Chai, Hong Kong
A crumby recipe.... not crummy but crumby, because of the breadcrumbs.... ah feck it...
Squid are quite Cumberbatch, yknow, quite weirdly beautiful. Mother nature must have either been on the sherries when it came round to creating squid or trying to win a bet - a beak, arms, a flexy backbone that would make a yogi green with envy and a sac of ink.
The Frankenstein-style beastie is the star of this super easy Nigel Slater recipe. NB: Guru Slater uses parsley but I only had basil, so there.
The trickiest part is prepping the squid but that's unlikely to break anyone out in a sweat (unless you're on a treadmill while you're doing it). If you've got more money than sense you'll be picking your squid up at CitySuper's fish counter. For those of us who don't bathe in Fiji water and diamonds, the wet market does just fine.
Once you're back at base camp, change into clothes that won't make you weep if you get ink over them and then under a trickle of tap water, dig your fingers behind the squid's head and into the cavity of the body and with a short tug, rip off the head and rip out the internal organs. This will consist of some opaque gunk and the plasticky backbone. Clean the tubular body cavity out and set that aside.
You wanna have the arms/ tentacles as well, but first you wanna remove the eyes and ink sac (which is between the eyes) by digging your fingers in front of the eyes and another short tug. Then pinch out the beak (a weird little ball of teeth) from the middle of the arms. Ta-dah! Done.
The fragrant breadcrumbs flavour and season the squid. The pine nuts add a bunch of toasty richness to the dish. But the squid is the thing; the dang tasty briney essence seeps out over the breadcrumbs while the bouncy flesh is subtle and clean. It's weirdly beautiful or pretty crumby.
Serves two:
Six tablespoons olive oil
Eight anchovy fillets
50g pine kernels
Handful of basil or parsley
Grated zest of one small orange
100g breadcrumbs
500g of squid
- Warm the olive oil in a pan on a low/medium heat, add the anchovy fillets and mush them until they dissolve. Roughly chop the pine nuts and chuck them in, they should colour to a nice light brown. Now add the breadcrumbs and colour the same, turning them frequently so they don't burn.
- Roughly chop the basil/ parsley and put into the pan, along with the orange zest. Grind some black pepper in there, then set the pan aside.
- Heat a griddle pan to hot, while waiting you can cut the squid bodies into rings. Once hot, put the squid for a minute before turning. After one more minute, remove and place into the pan with the breadcrumbs. Toss together and serve.
On the dusty road
Got to keep on plodding onwards
With your precious load...
The seemingly festively-inappropriate named Little Burro ('little donkey' which is also known as a burrito) currently exists as a pop-up in that fun area between Tai Hang and Causeway Bay where Awfully Chocolate used to flog pre-menstrual must-haves. Considering this is just a temp space while they find somewhere with room at the inn, they've done it out nice. Through the small shopfront, the long open-brickwork space has a counter on one side and smart high counter seating on the other. Towards the end of the room are murals which lead out to a small terrace.
Once at the service counter, tip your head back to check out the flowchart style ordering above you. Much like you would in a Dungeons & Dragons 'choose your own adventure book'*, make a series of choices (dish, filling, salsa, beans) to determine the outcome.
* You won't get frazzled by Tiamat the Dragon goddess but you might find you have a fiery end of another kind if you opt for some of the hot sauces.
Seeing as how their USP are the Mission-style burritos, we opt for one of these filled with barbecue beef HK$68. It is a glorious bulk, Mission might be the name of the San Francisco district these originate from, but it also describes the act of eating one of these beauties. A large soft tortillo encases a neat fragrant coriander rice (you're a bit fucked if you're low-carb, but meh), slices of mildly meaty beef, beans cooked with bacon, lettuce, tomatoes, salsa verde and a spicy sauce to accent the hefty roll. It's filling and tasty.
NB: It comes bound in foil and just as I'd advise Janet Jackson and Judy Finnigan, you'd be wise to keep it under wraps, else your burrito is gonna unravel... like this...
The rice bowl with chipotle chicken HK$58, also uses that nifty fragrant, coriander rice. I couldn't make out any of the chipotle's smokey tones but there was a spicy tang. It's pretty much the guts of the burrito but something gets lost in this iteration - the ratio of carb drowns out the fun stuff.
Tacos with pork HK$58, were a decent portion size. Two soft tortillas piled with your selected goodies. The pulled pork was a lil chewy. They're pretty straightforward tacos, inoffensive bordering on bland - the culinary Ocean Colour Scene.
NB: Cheese and sour cream is used incredibly sparingly in all the above dishes, so you might find them lacking in that Tex Mex richness. You might wanna check how much they put in and ask for more.
Tortilla chips with salsa HK$38, were snack sized. Psychedelic-coloured chips in deep purple and fuschia, mingle with beachy-coloured chips. Sturdy, crunchy, well-seasoned with nice corn-flavour. The salsa was punchy with onions and coriander though low on sauce and chilli, plus the tomatoes weren't that tasty.
Service was a lot like talking to my nan i.e. needed to repeat anything I said twice over, but it seems fair to give em some rope, we visited in their nascency (they were still waiting for their liquor license at the time too).
Little Burro isn't so much a one trick pony, more like a one trick donkey. The rice bowl, tacos and tortilla chips are ok but the Mission burrito is the way to go, it packs a precious load....
Little Burro, 125 Leighton Road, Causeway Bay, Hong Kong (pop-up location)
Want a slice of classy, comfort food in unpretentious environs? Phoque it...
Serge et le Phoque snuck into town without the parade and the professional turd polishers (aka PR); to a discreet location in Wan Chai (nestled between fruit and veg stalls and open-fronted butchers) with zero signage. Despite it's low-key opening, it's not too tricky to find, just look for the length of floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of a dining room furnished with sage green banquettes and booths, draped with sheepskin, blond wood tables and globe lighting.
Inside, the super-fun co-owner, Charles (flat-top glasses, Tigger-like loveliness) is likely to take you to your seat. At some point you’ll get a menu, though fuck knows what format it’ll be in (so far they’ve experimented with 11-course degustation, fixed three-courses HK$490, a la carte, fixed four courses HK$550) cos they’re still working it out. So now you know, cut them some slack on that.
Eats revolve around French approach with Asian ingredients, resulting in a collection of playful palette teasers and textures.
Hen egg with squid ink, corn and fried fish (have also seen it with fried tiger prawn with a tasty-looking cholesterol-laden head). Split the wobbly onsen egg and muddle the gooey, rich yolk with the charred, bitter-edged sweetcorn kernels, a hum of ginger peeps through the briney squid ink. The fish (possibly yellow croaker) was fried until brittle, a nice play with textures.
Raw yellowtail came in a thick wodge of clean, fleshy fish. Thin slithers of raw cauliflower gave a gentle sweetness, there's a tingle of citrus while the bottarga with its umami saltiness kicked ass like a sensi.
The other option for cold, dead fish - a tigre de leche with red snapper. Ceviche style, the fish left to cook in the citrussy marinade (not tiger’s spunk as the name suggests) and topped with raspberries; found the sourness in this too much of a slap in the face.
The pork belly was a thing of beauty. A crunchy skin that gave way to unctuous meat, it came served with happy, plump clams.
Squid with saucisson du tarn and brussel sprouts - silky, sweet squid with singed brussel sprouts leaves. Eeny umami-laden cubes of the crumbly, salty saucisson are genius while the smear of karashi mustard works twice as good as a silken hankerchief in clearing your sinuses.
Scallops were pillowy, cooked to a seductive Marilyn Monroe wobble. The awesome saucisson du tarn with it's dribbly-mouth-good umami makes another appearance in this dish, providing a nice foil to the sweet scallops. Charred leek and a dusting of matcha powder add an edge of bitterness.
A mouthful of andouillette (heroically pilfilered from someone else's plate) was musky, brooding - the dark depths and funky flavours of what Anthony Bourdain calls 'ass sausage' (it's made of tripe) will freak the fuck out of you if you're a fussy eater. But your loss - sod off and enjoy your Kraft macaroni.
The cheese plate varies on night to night, on our slate tile came a nutty, deep, well-aged Comte - both sharp and buttery. An ash-coated soft goat was satifsyingly tangy and creamy. While the gooey, sheep provided a pungent, gamey kick in the balls.
Desserts are a real joy. None of that cloyingly sweet shit. A beetroot ice cream brought an earthy, sour-sweetness; a drizzle of dark caramel sauce, a cheeky, buttery richness. Superb.
Choc mousse was pleasingly super light and not too sweet.
The fromage blanc (it’s similar to Greek yoghurt) came topped with salt caramel, pine nuts and freshly podded young peas. Elegant, tangy, nuttiness with astringency, caramelised sugar throwing in toasted tones.
Drinks will knock your socks off, not just cos they're decent but they're also liver-ticklingly strong. Gin & tonic comes with burnt lime, while the negroni HK$115 was potent, clean and pure. A couple of cocktails here will make you more light-headed than a room full of supermodels.
Service is adorable but occasionally remiss - forgotten orders will require a nudge on your part but you'll get apologies and a cheeky smile back.
Just in case you've got public toilet issues (hover? layering toilet paper on the seat before you sit down? crying?), then heads up, the washrooms are in the car park next door. Man, the last time I had my knickers round my ankles in a parking lot was pretty much Fresher's week....
Anyways, to finish this freaking epic/ long-winded post off, I got a lot of affection for this place. The portion sizes might gall some but this casual, modern bistro with its top-notch, progressive dishes that push-n-pull the palate in all kinds of fun directions appeals to me. For Phoque's sake, I hope it works out for them.
Dead good. This weekend I got ombre toned, which doesn't mean I got a taut, fit man. I got my hair dyed. After I dyed, I got dead... or Café Deadend anyway.
Café Deadend is just round the back of Po's Atelier, a bakery that has items which could challenge herb-loving James Franco for the prize of most awesome, baked good.
It's a lovely alcove of a space; plain concrete walls, simple stylish tables & chairs, with French windows that open up giving all diners a bit of alfresco dining. 15 or so seats are sheltered while 20 are on the unshaded terrace (including a dinky kids table). A counter that runs the length of the space has high stools on one side and the open kitchen on the other.
Service for the most part is beige but efficient - only the spunky manageress adds chirpy colour. The crowd is a varied mix; some lycra-laden fitness types, some who think doughnut-eating might qualify as a sport, some chirpy youngsters, and me.
The menu is printed on a folded horizontal strip of paper; it's concise to read but a pain in the arse to photograph:
Poached egg with crab HK$85, is majestic. Two pert poached eggs coated with a light layer of hollandaise sit on a nest of rocket leaves, underneath that a generous wodge of white crab meat muddled with weeny cubes of apple, lifting the fresh sweet crab meat. The base is a buttery bread (Po's signature 'AOP' bread), it's an elegant, clean brunch dish balanced with richness from the egg yolk. It. Is. Awesome.
French ham and brie on rye HK$85 looks less bombastic, in fact it looks comparatively mormonly, but it's really fucking tasty. A short baton with a crust with just enough give for a satisfying crunch, leading onto a decent chew. The roasted ham is quality; deeply meaty and textured. A sting of wholegrain mustard gives it pep, while the cheese comes through at the end with a velveteen earthiness. The side of homemade pickles add a cheeky slap of sour. Pretty perfect.
The desserts are Instagram-picture perfect (#nofilter required because they're beautiful #andillstabyouwithmyfuckingforkifyoucomenearit #itsmineitsMINE.... I really don't understand how these hashtag bollocks work to be honest... ). Chocolate terrine HK$85 - a dark chocolate ganache topped with blood orange sorbet served with slices of oranges. Pistachios add a verdant nuttiness, slivers of fresh tarragon nudge a lovely aniseed aftertaste and the smear of caramel is the cherry on top (if that cherry didn't taste of cherry but of buttery toffee tones and was on the bottom instead of the top... yeah, fine, shit analogy). A lovely balance of wicked richness with spritely citrus.
For liquids; an iced coffee HK$45 got a bit lost in the food-fawning, can't even remember drinking it to be honest. And the homemade lemon and ginger fizz, HK$45, would have won me over if it had more than a tingle of ginger. The freshly squeezed orange, HK$45, is pulpy and good.
Just as Po's is a superior bakery, Deadend is a superior cafe. Pricewise, it's in the bracket of fnar-fnar-bit-posh coffeeshop. But the upscale food is worth it, you're paying for the carbs of kings and well-sourced ingredients. As a yardstick for cafe eats, it's pretty hard to beat - after Deadend there's no turning back.
Café Deadend, 72 Po Hing Fong, Sheung Wan, Hong Kong
Where the fuck have I been? I've been eating beans that's where I've been...
As my motherfucker oven is still as broke as an investor in chocolate fireguards, I've been making stove-top eats. Hardy salads are the way to go cos unlike the fragile leafy types, they don't end up a weepy, green, bogey texture the next day (leftovers for lunch, means more money for Macallans).
This protein-packed beaut is adapted from a Mario Batali recipe. Good, clean, crisp haricot verts plus meaty, pasty lima beans make for a multi-textured and filling salad. The basil dressing adds a fragrant punchiness.
BTW. If you want to throw in a bit of richness, I reckon a gunky goat's cheese crumbled on top will get you there.
NB: The Batali uses fancy yellow wax beans, but do I sound like the type of Trust Fund baby that has the fucking time and money to go looking for those? I can barely muster the freakin' energy to flick nevermind look for beans.
Serves 2 as main:
150g haricots verts
Can of lima/ cannellini beans (drained and rinsed)
Garlic clove, thinly sliced
6 tablespoons olive oil
3 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
3 tablespoons fresh basil leaves, chopped
1/4 teaspoon cayenne
Salt & pepper
- Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add the haricot vert beans and cook for about 4 minutes. Drain and set to one side.
- In a large bowl (the one you're serving in, if you wanna save on washing up), combine the olive oil, balsamic vinegar, basil, garlic and cayenne pepper. Throw in the lima and haricot vert beans. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Eat it.
Miley Cyrus and this place are pretty good reasons why it’s a good idea to go to School.
Gone are the days when I thought Cyrus was some kind of cardio issue, nowadays I’m more likely to associate it a venereal disease that causes brain issues. Thanks for that Miley.
This joint leaves a nicer taste in your mouth, in fact, according to their tagline they leave a 'dreamy taste in your mouth'. Fair enough, though they probably should mention that only really applies if your dreams are full of fuck-hot spicing.
School Food is a global chain serving low-key Korean eats. Their first outlet in The Kong is in Times Square. The non-gimmicky space is spacious with open brickwork, cage pendant lights plus a simple but stylish mish-mash of chairs and wood veneer tables.
As they don't take reservations, it means you'll be subject to deli-style ticketing and waiting patiently for your number to get called out a la Mecca Bingo. If your patience is as thin as 1-ply toilet paper, you might wanna shoot for getting there just before it opens/ closes cos it was busy as fuck.
Once you're in, you'll be handed a comprehensive menu of casual Korean eats from one of the sweet staff. They're good, kind people - the type who fix wobbly legs on tables without being asked (can confirm) and piggy-back kittens across motorways (not confirmed, just probable).
First up, school naenmyeon HK$70, chilled soup noodle served in a wash basin-sized bowl. An island of skinny, elastic, marl-coloured buckwheat noodles in a broth laden with hunks of ice. The translucent soup is spicy, tangy with a touch of sweetness. Pickled daikon revs up the sourness while julienne cucumber does its best to balance out the heat. It's a super fun dish; you'll shiver from supping on the icy broth but sweat like fuck cos it's got a belter of spice. You might short-circuit on this mindfuck of a dish.
Sweet potato and chestnut croquette HK$22. A disc of deep fried croquette coated in panko, served sliced in half so you can see the happy violet shade of fluffy sweet potato. The chestnuts are roughly bashed for chunks of savoury sweet bite. Though a lil oily, the batter is still a satisfying crunchy foil to the fluffy filling.
Pan-grilled kimchi bookeumbap HK$88, a fried rice dish. The rice comes in a cast iron skillet, cooked with tangy kimchi, streaky bacon, finely chopped carrot, onion and topped with strips of nori (that lend a neat savoury depth) and a runny, fried egg. The best bit are the grains of rice which have caught the pan heat and crusted on the bottom in crunchy nuggets. It's a jumble, but a tasty jumble with a tickle of gochujang chilli paste heat.
Less good was the dessert, Snow in Seoul HK$50 (though the menu says HK$45). Inelegant, chunky shaved ice topped with condensed milk served with coffee jelly (also a choice of cinnamon tea of ginger). It's not bad, it's just unremarkable.
You're paying a premium for what amounts to street food but it's well-executed, nicely staffed and still cheaper than a flight to Seoul.
Admittedly, I don't know that much about Korean cuisine but the bold flavours with gutsy heat favour well with me. The soul-sapping queues of Times Square, less so. As a first rung on the Korea ladder, this is a great option.
School Food
13F, Times Square, 1 Matheson Street, Causeway Bay, Hong Kong
So what to do on those days when the weather's rubbish, you're still not married to Tom Hardy and everything you touch doesn't turn to sausages...
... pig fat popcorn is the answer.
It's one of those days where stuff just makes me feel sad; Bradley Manning's Draconian sentence is depressing, Corey Feldman's birthday party shows a Milli-Vanilli-stylefall from grace (you were in Lost Boys ffs, why this?) and, yeah, my uterus is due to degenerate next week so that might have something to do with it all.
The sugar and fat in this snack will result in a couple of highs: happiness high and high cholesterol. But gimme the fucking fat hits, who the hell wants a carrot stick at a time like this.
Based on this fantastic recipe on Leite's Culinaria by food journo Deborah Krasner, this fatty snack is pish easy and the genius of repurposing the tasty rendered fat to cook the popcorn deserves an air punch or five. A triplejump of earthy maple sugars hopping over savoury bacon bouncing into a comforting gleen of lard. Glorious.
One last thing; much like Paris Hilton in a land of penises, the maple syrup and fat softens what it touches. This is fine when it's just cooked but less appealing the day after, so just spread the remaining popcorn out on a baking sheet and place under a gently grill/ oven to crisp up.
Yes, grasshopper, I am wise (though mainly just greedy).
NB: Changed the portion sizing to metric because I don't understand this 'cup' sizing, that's for fucking underwear people not food.
5 slices streaky bacon
10g unsalted butter
50g popping corn
80g maple syrup
- Heat up a heavy-bottomed pan over a low heat and cooked the bacon approx 15 minutes on each side, the bacon should be cooked thru i.e. the fat will go translucent but not burnt to fuck. Transfer onto some paper towels (to soak up the oil so the slices can be crumbled later)
- Pour the fat that has rendered from the bacon into a large pot that you have a lid for, put the popping corn in and turn the heat onto medium. You'll hear the corn making a ruckus as it turns into a beautiful butterfly/ popped corn. Every now and then shake the pot so that any unpopped corn can be cooked. When all is silent, it's done. Turn off the heat.
- While that is going on, you can melt the butter (I used the same heavy-arsed pan as in step one because it was still warm).
- Put the popped corn into a fuck-off big bowl, pour the molten butter over and toss, then the maple syrup and toss, then crumble the bacon slices on top and toss. Once you're all tossed off, eat it.
Tee hee... cupping... if only they offered ‘tea-bagging’ on the menu, that would pretty much make my year. Ok, putting on my grown-up hat now...
So I’d heard that this was a kickass coffee place in Stanley but, yknow, if I’m down in Stanley I’m too busy thinking about another kinda cupping what with all those Speedos on the beach and consequent frog eyes.
Dang, grown-up hat fell off.
Anyways, happily, The Cupping Room is now in Sheung Wan and all it took was for me to wish really hard and stab a sacrificial fairy with a toothpick. No need to thank me. The space is neat with comfortably spaced seating provided by two long communal tables, slightly more anti-social couplet tables and sill-seating (ideal for the true loner to sit at with sad eyes, scratching at the window like a puppy in a pet shop). Ruggedly painted grey walls, sharp lines, blond wood and black-finishes make for a masculine chic environment.
It's counter service and that's where you'll locate the menus, cheery staff and a glass case of sheeny pastries.
From the brunch menu, scrambled egg with smoked salmon tartine HK$62. The egg is nicely cooked with generous slices of smoked salmon and comes topped with chopped tomato on toasted sourdough. It's good; the smoked salmon flavours and seasons the egg, though 'tartine' is a really wanky thing to call it.
The carbonara HK$82 from the lunch menu looked fan-fucking-tastic with it's wibbly poached egg but may also be a bit of a misnomer - there didn't seem to be any cheese in it. Cured pork - check, eggs - check, al dente pasta - check. Lactose came in the form of cream and there were slices of mushrooms but no... damn... cheese. Still, if you like Taylor Swift you'll like this i.e. looks awesome, totally bland.
A Guatamalan brew was picked from a peg board showing their current selection of filter coffees HK$60. Yeah it's pricey but, dang, it's nice. Clean, minerally with a gentle astringency and nuttiness. An elegant brew. It comes in a slightly tricky vase (no handle, it's hot) and pouring it to the cup without scalding yourself is a bit like a task on Amazing Race, but whatever.
The iced coffee HK$30 had a cheeky personality; fragrant caramel and raisins. Superb.
The Cupping Room is a lovely spot for coffee, what I ate didn't particularly rock my world but the characterful, expertly brewed caffeine is worth returning again for. It's a bonus they're now in Sheung Wan where there's always room for a little cupping.
The Cupping Room, 299 Queen's Road Central, Sheung Wan, Hong Kong
Open: Mon 8am-5pm, Wed-Fri 8am-5pm, Sat 8am-6pm, Sun 10am-6pm
Melon, cucumber and courgette salad with olives and red onion
Have had a twitchy eye for the last week. I'm a chinchilla's hair's breadth from lashing the fuck out. I need a holiday, I need this salad and I need my cunting eye to stop spasming.
One out of three it is then.
The man whose name scores 45 points in Scrabble is behind this audacious freaking salad.
Raw cool cucumber and its denser, nuttier cousin courgette meet with fragrant, sweet melon. Olives and red onion add a bit of ruckus and weight to the whole thing, to ensure your tastebuds know it ain't a fucking dessert; while lemon gives a zing to the freshness in your face.
There's so little stress to making this; chop and bung into a bowl. Stress is the last thing my nervous eye needs right now. If I'd been as wise as a fucking owl, I would have saved a few slices of cucumber to place over it, but I'm not so I didn't. Twitch-to-whoo.
Serves 2 as a light meal or 4 as a side:
Half large cucumber
1 medium courgette
Half small charentais or galia melon (I used galia)
50g pitted black olives
Half medium red onion, peeled and finely chopped
Juice of half a lemon
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
- Top and tail the cucumber, then quarter lengthways and scoop out the seeds with a teaspoon. Slice the lengths into thin quarter-moons about 2mm thick. Put the slices in a large bowl. Top and tail the courgette, quarter it lengthways and cut into pieces the same thickness as the cucumber. Add to the bowl.
- Scoop the seeds out of the melon. Carefully slice lengthways into wedges (if the wedges aren't slender enough, you can score down the middle of one of the wedges - see below photo), then crosswise, then slide the knife and cut the melon flesh from the skin (watch out for your freakin' fingers). Add to the bowl.
- Roughly chop the olives and add to the salad with the onion. Squeeze over the lemon juice, trickle over the oil, give it a good seasoning and stir together gently. Taste, add salt, pepper or lemon juice if needed, then serve.
