Hong Kong
“There are about 1,300 miles between Singapore and the island of Hong Kong . . . Phileas Fogg needed to cover this distance in six days, at the most.”
– Jules Verne
ARRIVING AT HONG KONG ON The Rangoon almost a day late due to a storm at sea, both Phileas and Passepartout were apoplectic, to say the least. Mother Nature had taken Fogg’s schedule and torn it up. The fact to be faced was that, in a falling domino fashion, he could well miss the boat booked to take him to Yokohama and therefore miss the steamer in Yokohama bound for San Francisco. At this critical moment, in all likelihood Phileas Fogg would lose his wager. To say that he was in no mood for a plate of dim sum might be stating the obvious.
In Around the World in Eighty Days, Verne emphasized the finite possibilities of Hong Kong: “Hong Kong is only a small island, ceded to Great Britain by the Treaty of Nanking after the war of 1842.” If Verne were to visit it now, he might be struck dumb by the changes that have been accomplished since his favorite tourist, Phileas Fogg, arrived. Today, the best way to describe Hong Kong is existing in a state of perpetual motion, with a dose of steroids for good measure. Manhattan could be thought of as a ghost town next to the never-ending, round-the-clock action that makes Hong Kong the capital of very conspicuous consumption. It also rivals Tokyo for neon and Paris for chic.
For years Hong Kong has clung to the edge of a dangerously steep cliff. First, it held on for dear life as it waited for the clock to run out on British rule. Having survived the changeover, it’s now in a state of suspended apprehension, nervously waiting for Beijing to put its foot down on its errant child’s fun and games—in effect to put an end to everything that has made Hong Kong the Land of Oz, Asian-style. However, and to Hong Kong’s immense relief, China decided, instead, to transform more compliant Shanghai into an international business powerhouse and play-land.
Almost no matter what the future holds for Hong Kong, it’s likely to remain a money magnet, an irresistible metropolis for the legions of western and Chinese bankers, real estate moguls, tailors, jewelers and techies who call it home. No doubt, poverty will remain part of the Hong Kong scene. Still, almost nothing can compete with the city’s dazzling geography and manmade glitter which eclipse corners of harsher reality.
Many islands in the South China Sea and a peninsula make up what we think of as Hong Kong. Hong Kong Island, with Victoria Peak, as well as some of the city’s very affluent neighborhoods, faces the peninsular tip, Kowloon, across magnificent Victoria Harbour. Kowloon is where luxury hotels add patina to Hong Kong’s glamour. Not quite so flamboyant but still part of the city are the New Territories, also on the peninsula jutting from the Chinese mainland, and numerous nearby small islands in the South China Sea. Hong Kong is, in fact, a many splendored thing.
If, by some outrageous turn of fate, I had only one day to spend in Hong Kong, I’m sure that I would spend most of it riding back and forth across Victoria Harbour on the Star ferry. To me, the ferry represents the very essence of Hong Kong. Carrying passengers between Hong Kong Island and Kowloon, a trip that takes about eight minutes, it permits the breathtaking panorama of the harbor to unfold slowly. Junks loaded with goods sail elegantly by; ancient looking sampans ferry people from shore-to-shore; small sailboats dot the water like tiny birds. It’s true that there are a number of harbors around the world that are heart stopping but in Hong Kong, the harbor acts as a glorious punctuation mark to the frenzy that surrounds it.
Photo by BrokenSphere
You might say that Confucius was China’s very first food critic. He believed that food should be carefully selected in the market, specifying “no brown meat” (he obviously never had dinner on a plane), “no damp or discolored rice” and “eating in moderation.” He also advised on proper table manners which meant that food should be cut into little pieces so as to not make the diner grapple with large chunks—wise words for the country which 500 years earlier had adopted chopsticks. Yet little did Confucius know that two millennia later, people in the New World would be helplessly watching food they’d tried to grasp slip slowly back onto their plates or, even worse, their clothing without ever making contact with their mouths.
Most visitors arrive in Hong Kong armed with a list of restaurants as long as the Great Wall. It’s been said that it would be possible to eat at a different restaurant every day for two years in HK, and never repeat a dish. I have yet to speak to anyone who’s had the time or fortitude to test that assertion, not even the Guinness boys.
The food in Hong Kong is epitomized by its dazzling array of choices, and Michelin has taken note of one great Cantonese restaurant. It has awarded three stars, its highest accolade, to Lung King Heen, under chef Chan Yan Tak at the Four Season’s Hotel. The award was a special triumph for Chan since the popularity of the Cantonese kitchen, has been somewhat eclipsed by the food of other provinces such as Hunan, Sichuan and Fujian.
In Hong Kong, as in the rest of China, it really doesn’t matter if it’s street food or a three-star tummy temple. Through the centuries, the Chinese have had two great passions, food and gambling. Nothing has really changed, and food has the edge if ever so slightly.
LUK YU TEA HOUSE – #46
Dim sum, roughly translated means “to touch the heart.” Even more important, eating dim sum in Hong Kong means to touch its heart. And the best place to do that is the Luk Yu Tea House. In a city where everyone plays “Beat the Clock” day and night, Luk Yu is the closest any of us will come to the memory of the old, colonial Hong Kong. Hand-carved rosewood booths, stained-glass murals, languid ceiling fans humming away and framed Chinese scrolls on the walls, it’s all there. And while Luk Yu might not serve the most delicate dim sum to be found, it really doesn’t matter. Luk Yu is about so much more. I was told by the manager of the Peninsula Hotel, that iconic Hong Kong landmark, that teahouses on the island were fast disappearing. Everyone who visits Hong Kong should go to Luk Yu at least once, he said, “to see how things used to be.” It’s easy to understand why the dedicated regulars of a certain age who start their day here create an atmosphere that’s more 1890s than new millennium.
Don’t bother to look for an English menu or the usual dim sum trolleys at lunch. Don’t even think of arguing when you’re banished to Siberia on the third floor. The best defense is just to smile at your unsmiling waiter, and point to the plates on other tables. Midmorning is the most difficult time to snag a table.
On one of my many visits, I luk-ed out with a plate of steamed dumplings filled with liver sausage and ginger, but that was only the beginning. After multi-servings of assorted pancakes, buns, balls, puffs and other treasures from the kitchen, I was amazed to find that the teahouse actually served dessert. Usually, if dessert is served at all in a Chinese restaurant, it turns out to be a sweet bean soup, definitely no substitute for a slice of cheesecake. So to find an elegant Twiggy-thin crepe filled with custard and fresh fruit was, indeed, an inscrutable surprise.
LUK YU TEA HOUSE/24-26 STANLEY STREET/
TEL: 2523-5464
Moderate
LUK YU’S MILIEU
Stanley Street is right off Queens Road which offers a wonderful counterpoint to the old Hong Kong of Luk Yu. Most of Queens Road is devoted to tall, glass skyscrapers and formidable banks. A case in point is the mega-modern Bank of China. However, even in this 21st century streetscape, there’s a hint of yesterday. The Bank of China stands next to the Hong Kong and Shanghai Banking Corporation, which was the bank that represented the British when Hong Kong was a crown colony. There are two huge lions at its entrance that make it clear the Brits were not about to go without a roar.
There is simply no way to capture precisely the sights, the sounds and the smells that greet you at Cleveland Szechuan. First, you have to climb to the top of a steep flight of stairs to get a look at the huge round tables which are filled with huge round families in a generational display of dining unity. Everyone seems to be speaking at once as they reach for the multitude of platters in the center of the table. The Cleveland is known for some of the best Szechuan food in Hong Kong.
The last time I was there I had the misfortune of having only one other person with me. Understandably, a party of two is pretty puny by Cleveland’s standards; still we were welcomed and seated at a table with other temporary orphans. In the end, it all worked out wonderfully well and actually led to the unexpected opportunity for even more tasting.
Some of the choices on the menu are familiar to Chinese-food lovers and have become old friends in the States. Eggplant with garlic sauce can usually be counted on to provide some heat from the chilies used in the sautéing. But at the Cleveland, this dish should be served with its own fire extinguisher. Through the years, I’ve found that there is no better antidote for jetlag. My personal favorites on the menu include the Golden Carp, glistening in its rich vegetable broth and perfumed with a touch of garlic, and the Camphor and Tea Duck, smoked over camphor wood, and served with steamed bread. As for the “offal” truth at the Cleveland, the adventurous can dig into such savory delights as Pig’s Kidney and Stewed Beef Heart.
CLEVELAND SZECHUAN’S MILIEU
Not far from the restaurant is Victoria Park, one of the lovelier on Hong Kong Island, a perfect place to recharge after all the noise and the confusion of the restaurant. At the entrance to the park is a statue of a seated Queen Victoria, (even she had to relax from time to time) with a somewhat intriguing past. After the Japanese invaded Hong Kong, they rounded up almost all the bronze statues and had them sent back to Japan to be melted down for the war effort. But the Queen escaped that fate. Her manners were known to be impeccable. She would never have participated in a meltdown of any kind. After the war, she was returned to Hong Kong and placed triumphantly back at the park entrance.
Photo by Jeromy-Yu Chan Arad
CLEVELAND SZECHUAN/6 CLEVELAND STREET/
CAUSEWAY BAY/ TEL: 576-3876
Moderate
THE JUMBO FLOATING RESTAURANT – #48
When I first caught sight of the Jumbo Floating Restaurant, I thought that it might have been a figment of my imagination. It sits like some nautical mirage aglow with colored lights in the middle of Aberdeen Harbour. The Jumbo has the kitsch of Disneyland, the cosmopolitan bling of New York’s once great Tavern on the Green and the exotic charm of Copenhagen’s Tivoli amusement park. It’s a real stunner.
Now, I’ll have to admit that if the Jumbo was to have been my only meal in Hong Kong I might have resisted its twinkling invitation and gone to one of the island’s more venerable temples of gastronomy. But that said, don’t let anyone deter you from a visit to the Jumbo because it’s “just too touristy.” That makes as much sense as avoiding the Eiffel Tower because you can see it on a postcard. Stand firm as I did, and just go. And stand just as firmly in not going to the other floating restaurants in Aberdeen. They don’t even come close to the ditsy charm of the Jumbo.
After admiring the Jumbo from the shore, glittering for all its worth, you look for the thousands of signs that will lead you to the pier and then board a small ferry marked “Jumbo.” It will take you out to the middle of the bay and the Jumbo’s entrance. As you get closer, though hard to believe, the Jumbo gets even brighter. Once you’ve stepped on deck it’s clear that the lights aren’t the only things that make the Jumbo unforgettable. The decor on this floating phantasma is straight out of an old Charlie Chan movie. There are more dragons than St. George could shake a sword at, more tassels than Gypsy Rose Lee bought in her whole career, and enough gilt to make Ikea look like Versailles. The Jumbo can seat over 3000 comfortably so don’t even think about intimate dining. Perhaps most delightful of all, after you’ve had a fairly uninspired meal you can play dress up with outfits for empress or emperor wannabes. The night I was there, a sweet, newly married couple was posing up a storm for the house photographer. You might well ask if I chose to make that much of a fool of myself. You bet your eggroll I did. And, I have the snapshot to prove it.
As for the food, after you get used to the sensory overload think neighborhood Cantonese. But to miss the Jumbo would be to miss the quirky, off-the-wall charm of Hong Kong itself.
THE JUMBO FLOATING RESTAURANT/
ABERDEEN HARBOUR/ TEL: 2553-9111
Moderate
THE JUMBO’S
MILIEU
Unless you have your scuba equipment with you, don’t try strolling through the harbor after dinner.
TEA AT THE PENINSULA HOTEL – #49
“The Pen,” as it’s called by its loyal fans, is to Hong Kong what the Savoy Hotel is to London. The Pen has been around since 1928 and it has never lost its notable status, not even when the Japanese made it their headquarters during WWII. That’s the very reason the Japanese chose it. Even they knew it was the place to be.
Photo by Minghong
Though the Pen’s location is not right at the edge of the harbor, it makes up for the loss of view with its colonial elegance and gilded ceilings. Most of all, the specialty of the house is timelessness. The wicker and bamboo chairs in the lobby are filled every afternoon with American moguls, nostalgic Brits, Chinese tourists and Hong Kong “chuppies” (Chinese yuppies). They come for their daily fix of Earl Grey tea and homemade buttery scones, served with outrageously thick clotted cream. Although one can order a reputable Chinese tea with dim sum, the scene hasn’t changed much since the days of the Crown Colony. Nor have the fresh-baked scones.
Courtesy of The Peninsula Hotel
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Dumplings
• 1 pound medium shrimp, finely minced
• 2 tablespoons chives, minced
• ⅓ cup Shiitake mushrooms, finely diced
• 2 tablespoons vegetable oil
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 teaspoon sugar
Pastry
• 5 tablespoons all purpose flour
• 5 tablespoons cornstarch
• ¾ cup water
MAKES 24 3-INCH DUMPLINGS
This recipe, provided by the Peninsula Hotel, was adapted for the home cook by Cooking By the Book in New York, NY.
In a medium bowl combine the shrimp meat with the chives, mushrooms, vegetables, oil, salt and sugar. Refrigerate until ready to make the dumplings, or up to 4 hours.
To make the dumpling skins, whisk the flour and cornstarch in a small bowl. Heat the water in a small pot over medium heat. When the water comes to a simmer add the flour mixture and stir vigorously until the mixture comes together in a ball. Remove from heat and start to make your dumpling skins. Take about 1 well rounded teaspoon of dough for each dumpling and roll it out on a floured board to 1/32 of an inch. You should be able to see your finger through the skin. Place 1 to 2 teaspoons of filling on top of the skin, using your finger coat the skin perimeter with water, then press closed to make a small purse shape. Keep the completed dumplings covered with a damp towel or plastic wrap.
Place a steamer insert over simmering water and place in one layer of dumplings. Steam dumplings for 4-5 minutes. Repeat with the remaining dumplings. Serve with soy sauce.
Photos courtesy of The Peninsula Hotel
THE PENINSULA /SALISBURY ROAD, KOWLOON/ TEL: 2366-6251
Expensive
THE PENINSULA’S MILIEU
Salisbury Road is in the middle of luxury hotel territory, with the Peninsula, the Mandarin Oriental and the Intercontinental just steps from one another. If you have any desire to be in stitches in Hong Kong, now is the time to check out the bespoke (custom-made clothing) scene at one of the hotels. Few people leave Hong Kong without something new and silky to squeeze into their suitcases.
SPRING DEER – #50
Hong Kong has so many glitzy, ritzy and bedazzling venues for taking in sustenance that I always look forward to visiting Spring Deer. It’s a vacation from the island’s food-aholic chaos. It has been providing Pekinese (the city, not the dog) food for over 30 years. Today, Peking is known as Beijing.
Spring Deer is famous not only for its comfort food served up in a comfortable setting, but also for its informality. The bad news is that I am not the only one who is aware of Spring Deer’s warm welcome. In fact, the place is almost always packed with Deer’s loyal fans. They know that they can get one of the best versions of Peking Duck to be found in all of Hong Kong, and at a reasonable price, too.
The preparation of Peking Duck at Spring Deer is an exercise in frugality. Traditionally, the cook uses every part of the duck except, as they say, the quack. When it is done cooking in all its mahogany splendor, the duck will glisten with a honey glaze and have skin that’s crisper than a banker’s shirt. The crackling skin is sliced into thin strips and served with shards of spring onion and cucumber carefully wrapped together in a steamed, paper-thin pancake. The succulent duck meat is carved off the carcass and sautéed with bean sprouts. But, there’s still more to come in this ultimate Peking Duck-ology: the purist diner can request a thick custard made from the fat of the bird, much to the dismay of cardiologists all over the world. And even that is not the end of our poor, dead Donald. A double-rich stock made from the bones and scraps is turned into a duck soup that would have made the Marx Brothers weep. Be forewarned, there can be a wait of at least 45 minutes to an hour before you ever see your de-feathered friend. After all, it takes time to create a masterpiece.
SPRING DEER/ 42 MODY ROAD, KOWLOON/
TEL: 2366-4012
Moderate
SPRING DEER’S MILIEU
Mody Road is a short distance from the swank hotels of Salisbury Road as well as the ferry that goes to Discovery Bay, located at the tip of Lantau Island. If you want to get a peek at another HK island, now’s your chance. Discovery Bay was a resort area with a manmade beach but now most of it is devoted to housing. What a waste.
THE LOBBY LOUNGE AT THE HOTEL INTERCONTINENTAL – #51
If a room with a view makes your heart beat faster, then a bar with a spectacular view may require a bottle of smelling salts. There’s no doubt about it, the view of Victoria Harbour from the panoramic windows of the Lobby Lounge at the Intercontinental Hotel gets the prize for sheer drama. The windows offer almost 360 degrees of pure spectacle.
Sinking down into one of the super-comfortable chairs in the Lounge and sipping one of its brilliant martinis is something that I never fail to accomplish when I’m in Hong Kong. In fact, my husband Ivan and I once spent almost six hours in the Lobby Lounge (the wait staff was really permissive) working out the plot for a new novel. Needless to say, the martinis gave the plot some extra twists, aside from the ones in the stemware. The Lobby Lounge also serves a formal Chinese Tea in the afternoon with many varieties of green or black tea among which to choose. Try to go in the late afternoon so that you can watch the sunset, the time that the harbor is at its most seductive.
Photo by Tim Olsen
Or stop in after dark to catch the city at its sparkling best.
HOTEL INTERCONTINENTAL/ SALIBURY ROAD,
KOWLOON/ 852-2721-1211
Expensive
THE PEAK LOOKOUT CAFÉ – #52
As if it weren’t enough to marvel at Hong Kong’s breathtaking harbor from Kowloon or Hong Kong Island, you can vary the view and look at it from above. All you have to do is take a possibly terrifying ride on the Peak Tram to the top of Victoria Peak. It’s nothing but chills and thrills as the tram ascends the super- steep side of the mountain to its peak at 1,300 feet.
Upon arrival and perhaps after a call to your therapist, you can concentrate on a snack or even a simple dinner at the Peak Lookout Café.
Dating back to 1901, this charming, colonial rest stop at the top of the peak started out as just that. In the days of British rule, coolies with rickshaws and sedan chairs were the transportation of choice for the solid-gold English colonizers who lived at the top of Victoria Mountain. They were carried back and forth, up and down and even around the mountain to their sumptuous mansions, far from the heat of the island below. The poor, overworked and underpaid schleppers as well as their schleppees needed a place to rest and a cool drink. Faster than a speeding kumquat, a simple restaurant was opened for refreshments. Of course the rules of “upstairs, downstairs” were carefully observed and “downstairs” had their drinks in each other’s company.
Photos courtesy of the Peak Lookout Café
Today after a much needed facelift, the café is one of the popular destinations in town, not only for its restorative powers but for its wondrous view. The menu is surprisingly eclectic as well as multicultural. You can order Thai spring rolls, a shellfish platter, Indian samosas, hamburgers and chicken quesadilla. Or you can go straight to cappuccino or dessert. If possible, try to get a table outside and then it really doesn’t matter what you eat because the most exciting thing on the menu is the scenery.
THE PEAK LOOKOUT
CAFÉ’S MILIEU
If you find hiking more satisfying as an exercise than martini drinking (I find that mixing a really good martini takes an overwhelming amount of muscle coordination), then you have a whole mountain at your disposal. The walk back to town gives you a chance to see some of the astounding McMansions along the way.
THE PEAK LOOKOUT CAFÉ/ 121 PEAK ROAD/
TEL: 852-2849-1000
Moderate
THE CAUSEWAY BAY TYPHOON SHELTER – #53
You may have dreamed of taking a slow boat to China but you can compromise and take a slow boat in China. Have you ever dined shipboard with a starched white table cloth, crystal wine glasses, your food served by a deferential waiter? Well, no matter. You still might like to try your luck eating on a small, rolling sampan in the middle of one of Hong Kong’s typhoon shelters, especially Aberdeen Harbour or Causeway Bay.
Photo by Minghong
Causeway Bay Typhoon shelter at night
A typhoon shelter is an area set aside to shelter small fishing boats from the fierce storms that frequently descend on Hong Kong. These boats make up floating cities that are the permanent homes to hundreds of Hong Kong residents. There are people who were born, grew up, married and died on their boats, never having lived on dry land.
One of the unique eating experiences in Hong Kong starts with taking a cab to the shore of one of the shelters (the shelters in Aberdeen and Causeway Bay don’t have formal addresses but the drivers all know where to drop you). Before you know it, a small sampan, one of many that wait for customers, will row over and ask if you’d like to have some food. By this time there’s no turning back nor should you because both the experience and the meal will be more than worth it.
Photo by Chonfit Chong
My sampan in the Causeway Bay Typhoon Shelter was rowed by a woman old enough to have known the last emperor personally. However, she handled the craft with the expertise of Christopher Columbus. The boat had room for two, not counting its captain. There was something that suggested a table but it was more like a tray that kept moving up and down with the motion of the boat. This is definitely not meant to be black-tie dining.
As we approached the shelter, my ancient mariner shouted and gestured wildly to a tiny fleet of kitchen sampans that instantly surrounded our boat, furiously preparing my dinner. I tried in vain to mop the spray of the waves from my face, as we rowed from boat to boat but I still managed to point to a noodle dish here, a basket of fried dumplings there, until I had chosen as many courses as I thought I could manage before my dining room sank.
You could liken the cooking sampans to a convoy of floating dim sum trolleys. Each one had a different specialty. Chili crabs might be to the starboard, sautéed beans to the stern. One of the sampans even carried a tiny Chinese orchestra playing ricky-ticky tunes to chew by. Of all the food experiences in Hong Kong, this one is not to be missed. As the twilight deepens, the flames from the woks and the festive colored lanterns magically illuminate your floating dinner.
CAUSEWAY BAY TYPHOON SHELTER/
ABERDEEN TYPHOON SHELTER
Inexpensive
Aberdeen Bay
CAUSEWAY BAY’S MILIEU
Causeway Bay is just about the smallest district in Hong Kong. Aside from its typhoon shelter, it is filled with department stores (a favorite is China Products near Paterson Street) and the ever present crush of the crowds. There are millions of small shops and food stalls to be explored after your shipboard adventure.
Causeway Bay is also famous for its Noonday Gun which used to signal the lunch hour with several cannons firing when the sun had reached its height—just so you’d know when you needed to run for cover. The Gun was immortalized by Noel Coward in his song “Mad Dogs and Englishmen.”
LUNG KING HEEN
The address (a street called Finance) of this superb restaurant is some indication of its menu prices. Most people agree after dining at Lung King Heen, it is so worth it. And the inspector from Michelin agreed, as I mentioned earlier. The award not only celebrated Cantonese cuisine, it was the very first time any chef in China had triple-starred in one of its guides.
Lung King Heen means “View of the Dragon,” so called because of the spectacular views of Victoria Harbour from its windows. Any self-respecting dragon would be impressed. The restaurant’s Cantonese dishes are done with contemporary flare.
LUNG KING HEEN/ FOUR SEASONS HOTEL/8
FINANCE STREET, CENTRAL/ TEL: 852-3196-8888
The last time we looked in on Phileas, he was, metaphorically speaking, hanging from a pier by his fingernails. How would he make up the time he had lost because of that unfortunate storm at sea? Would he arrive back in London in time to win his bet? All of this might have been quite suspenseful had not dedicated readers of Jules Verne’s remarkable adventure novels known that the author would never dream of leaving Phileas in such a precarious position. The intrepid Fogg would ultimately triumph over adversity and the clock.
On the other hand it might be fun to think of Fogg temporarily throwing in the towel and allowing himself to take an intriguing detour to Beijing. My guess is that if, by some miracle, he had agreed, he would not have regretted a single moment springing from his very uncharacteristic decision. Once there, Phileas would never have been able to resist the lure of the Forbidden City, which in those days was really forbidding, or a thrilling promenade on the Great Wall. He might have even downed a soothing bowl of wonton soup while he tried to find a solution to his latest scheduling dilemma.
The obvious solution to any of my travel dilemmas has always been to visit as many great cities as possible. And so in my case, the answer is a no brainer: Beijing or bust!
Beijing’s stupendous coming out party, better known as the 2008 Summer Olympics, was only one stunning example of the meteoric development that has taken place in the city. The new China Syndrome is something that the world will continue to experience for years to come. Beijing is growing faster than Pinocchio’s nose. If you stand still for more then 20 minutes, there will be a brand new skyscraper hot off the assembly line ready to be filled with venture capitalists and technology giants. The speed with which the city is changing is mind bending. One has only to look at the superb, world class architecture that was created for the Olympics to know how far China has come. The Chinese government has gone to great lengths to make Beijing the poster city for the new China at its most fabulous.
But all this building and expanding comes at a high price. You can’t breathe (nor could the Olympians, for that matter), with ease. Not only are you surrounded by people smoking, 24/7, the air is often thick with industrial pollution. To make matters even grittier, Beijing is just a hop, skip and a camel ride from the great Gobi Desert, so there are frequent dust storms that whip through the city and deposit a layer of sand on everything. Asthmatics and the allergy prone, beware.
One expat resident of Beijing said that he felt he was living at the beach. There is, however, some hope on Beijing’s hazy horizon. The government has begun to take drastic measures such as not permitting heavy trucks to enter the city until nightfall. But for the present, the theme song in Beijing is “Smog Gets in Your Eyes.”
As the city morphs into a great metropolis, familiar landmarks are being swallowed whole. Gone are most of the winding, narrow alleys from another century, the “hutongs” and their cozy courtyard houses. The new is squeezing out the old and the charming.
Once I figured it out, I found the restaurant scene in Beijing to be an exciting aspect of the city. Not only did the city successfully cope with feeding the hordes who came for the Olympics, it managed its growing pains with seemingly ease, and has become a welcoming culinary capital.
Photo by Toby Oxborrow
Beijing Duck
In many ways, the Chinese are valiantly trying to adjust to brand new lives in circumstances still changing from week to week. The question seems to be: Can they mingle the old with the new now that they find themselves between a wok and a hard place?
It’s not hard to understand why travelers who visit Beijing believe that since they’re in the capital of China, every block will be lined with outstanding Chinese restaurants. But it’s sad that many are sure they will almost certainly be familiar with what’s listed on the menu. Think again.
This misconception may be due to years of brainwashing by those Chinese restaurants in the United States that offered or still offer the all-purpose combination plate or the no-surprises-here take-out menu. Far too many tourists came of travel age with glorious visions of chicken chow mien and egg drop soup dancing in their heads.
Most restaurants I visited in Beijing served Pekinese or Mandarin cuisine. Mandarin usually describes recipes that were originated for the imperial court, such as Peking duck and hot and sour soup, while Pekinese is made up of simpler, more casual fare such as dim sum and vegetable dishes.
Generally speaking, restaurant menus in Beijing are not as user friendly as the ones in Hong Kong. A menu in English was once as hard to find as a pastrami sandwich. Today, some top restaurants offer menus with translations while some less-expensive ones show photos of their offerings, although the pictures may be a puzzlement themselves. As tourism marches on, new restaurants are springing up as rapidly as the new construction. Keeping up with the food scene in Beijing has become its own Olympic event.
Newer hotel restaurants, however, tend to be comfortable and familiar. If, however, you desire to explore more interesting choices, it’s usually the locals who know about those hidden gems that thrill food-aholics. You are most likely to find them—if you are fluent in Mandarin or are accompanied by someone who is. Be warned that there are parts of this large city where an address is merely a state of mind.
After a long, hot day walking the Great Wall, the need for sustenance always trumps the need for shoe repair. My own visit to the Great Wall would have made Humpty Dumpty proud. Unfortunately, I tripped right in front of a group of German tourists who had a really hard time putting me back together again. After such a humiliating experience, I needed more than a double martini and an order of dumplings for dinner. The only way I could make amends for slipping the light fantastic was to make my chopsticks click in double time at Fangshan.
Posh is not a word one often uses when speaking of Beijing restaurants but “Fangshan” which means “imperial,” is said to serve dishes that were once prepared for the last emperor of China, Puyi himself. The restaurant was opened in 1925 by cooks who had worked at the imperial court in the early 1900s during Puyi’s very short reign. It’s really cool to think that some of the selections that appear on Fangshan’s menu were at one time dished up in the Forbidden City. The very young emperor seemed to have been partial to meat because Fangshan is a carnivore’s delight. It has, at any given time, lamb roast, pork roast, pork chops, lamb chops, deer, turtle and steak on the menu and that doesn’t even include the specials of the day.
Courtesy of Kinabaloo
The lamb shank that I ordered was barbequed and served sizzling right off the spit. It was pink and perfect. Fangshan also offers a 14 course dinner made up of imperial dishes which I thought best, considering my short stay in Beijing, to forego. One of the other selections that I decided to pass on was Camel’s Paw. I always thought camels had hooves, but apparently not at Fangshan.
Perhaps the management tends to push the theatrical button a bit too forcefully, since the room is a sea of red and gilt, with vivid murals that cover the ceiling. The serving staff is dressed as if they could perform Flower Drum Song at a moment’s notice. The outdoor setting for the restaurant is much calmer. Fangshan sits at the edge of a placid lake in a small park. If you’re really fortunate, there will be dancers in imperial costume performing on the lawn.
FANGSHAN/ BEIHAI PARK/ EAST GATE/ TEL:
6401-1889-1879
Expensive
FANGSHAN’S MILIEU
After dinner and all that gilded grandeur, a walk around the lake would make for a tranquil restorative. More of the park can be explored after lunch or early in the evening. Since Fangshan is a bit off the beaten track it would be best to take a cab to and from the restaurant.
XIAN LAO MAN – #55
Unlike Fangshan, Xian Lao is definitely not an outpost of the Imperial Palace but, no matter, when you need a dumpling fix think Xian Lao Man. The décor consists of monumentally large glass jars of preserved garlic and ginger. But as Confucius might say these are very good omens.
The dumplings served at Xian Lao Man are made with amazing speed and dexterity while you watch, and they disappear almost as quickly. The dough is so delicate and silky that if you’re not careful you may have consumed a dozen or two before you even know it. As that old saying goes, a dumpling a day keeps the acupuncturist away.
Other delicious things are served at Xian Lao Man but if you ask anyone on the long line that keeps lengthening as you wait, you’ll hear pretty much the same thing from most of them. They’ve come for dumplings! These tiny tender tidbits are made with a variety of stuffings but no matter which you pick you’ll find, as I did, that they are all seriously terrific. The more I write about them, the more I find myself thinking that it’s time to go back and investigate further.
XIAN LAO MAN/ 252 ANDINGMENNEI DAJIE/
DONGCHENG DISTRICT/ TEL: 8610-6404-9644
Inexpensive
XIAN LAO MAN’S MILIEU
Most areas in Beijing are best explored block by block, and the Dongcheng District, where Xian Lao Man is located, is no exception. It’s crowded with small temples, shops and food stalls, and they’re all open late into the evening. Language here, as in most places in Beijing, will be somewhat of a problem, however pointing always seems to work. And a word about the inscrutable: the golden rule when traveling in Asia is, always have a card from your hotel to give to your cab driver. Otherwise, you may never see your clothes again.
LIQUN – #56
Don’t even try to find the actual entrance to this state secret. It’s hard enough to find the district and then the name of the road. Once you’ve located the road, all you have to do is hail a trishaw (tricycle-style rickshaw) to take you deep into the narrow alley (hutong) where Liqun is, you hope, to be found. Is all this worth it? The answer is, of course, yes—that is if you want the best Beijing duck in Beijing.
Liqun may be renowned for its superbly I lacquered and aromatic Beijing Duck but it’s certainly not known for its superb ambiance. Just walking through the kitchen, dodging the pyromaniacal flames that lap at you from under the huge woks, adds an exciting note of danger to the whole experience. For me, it was love at first sight. I found that the rough and tumble crowds, the bare tables and brusque service only served to heighten my expectations.
Photo by docsdl
The old timers who grew up in the city when it was called Peking still refer to the duck of their dreams as “Peking Duck.” But no matter what it’s called, it is to Beijing what pastrami is to New York or barbequed brisket is to Dallas. The question is, what becomes a Peking legend most? The menu at Liqun is devoted to answering that very question. For a really ducky experience, the little rascals are served in the classic manner with steamed pancakes. If you prefer, they can be roasted, sautéed, glazed or barbequed. And by an obvious bit of de-duck-tion, even duck tongues (don’t ask) are available here, as a side dish.
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For dumpling packets
• 1 cup water
• 2 cups wheat or rice flour (Beijing
cooks prefer wheat-flour but south
China cooks insist that their rice-flour
dumpling packets are more floaty).
Cabbage Filling
• 1 small cabbage
• Salted water
• Sichuan peppercorn or other hot pepper
of your choice
• ½ teaspoon salt
• 3 tablespoons peanut oil
Meat Dumpling Filling
• Ground (finally chopped or minced)
meat of your choice
• Finely chopped ginger
• Finely chopped garlic
• Chopped scallions
• Chicken broth
• Soy sauce
• Sesame oil
• Cucumber (optional side addition)
Early Packet Preparation
Put flour in a bowl. Dribble in water while kneading for five to 15 minutes. The more you work the dough, the lighter the dumpling. Cover bowl with damp cloth, and let dough sit for 1 hour for it to soften.
Cabbage Filling Preparation
Peel leaves off cabbage and soak them in a bowl half or more filled with salted water for 1 hour. Pour out and dispose of salted water.
Place warm peanut oil in wok. Add peppercorn, let soak for a minute or two then dispose of pepper.
Place cabbage leaves in wok. Add ½ teaspoon of salt. Cook over fairly-hot heat for a minute but be careful not to sear leaves. Turn off heat. Reserve at room temperature to use as dumpling filler.
Or you can prepare the cabbage just before you finally boil up the filled dumplings and serve it as a hot first dish to stay hunger while your family or guests wait for something more substantial.
Meat Dumpling Filling
A little ground meat goes a long way in making these dumplings, each filled with a marble-size meatball. You can either use ground pork or ground chicken or a combination of both. The important thing here is the ratio of chopped meat to flour, you’ll want about a third of your mixture to be meat. Two-thirds of the mixture will be flour and the following: finely chopped scallion tops, garlic and ginger. Season strongly or lightly, according to taste. Add a few drops of sesame oil to help ingredients cohere.
Use one hand to stir meat mixture clockwise (for good luck) with a pair of wood chopsticks. Then use your fingers to roll your mixed ingredients into tiny meatballs.
Bring chicken broth to boil over high heat. You’ll want enough to just or almost cover your meatballs. If you like saltiness, add a teaspoon of soy sauce to the broth and mix it in.
Skin and dice some cucumber, if you like. And reserve to serve with the meat dumplings.
Drop seasoned meatballs into boiling broth. Watch it—as soon as the water has steamed off, your meatballs are done.
Finishing the dumplings
For each set of 15 dumplings, you’ll need water to fill your wok half way or more, plus ½ cup to 1½ cups cold (room-temperature) water to set aside.
Lightly flour a wood tabletop or board. (Use the same flour you used in making the dumpling dough.) Wake your resting dough from its long wait and hand roll into a long, sausage shape. Sprinkle more flour on your board as needed to prevent sticking. Pinch off small pieces of your dough sausage.
Use the palm of your hand to roll each snippet into a round shape. Use a small (two to three inch in diameter) rolling pin or wood cylinder to roll out each small dough circle into a two or three inch disc.
Use chopsticks (or a small spoon, if you must) to pick up cabbage or meat filling and drop filling into the center of a dough disc. Fold up dumpling and pinch it closed, working from the center outward. You’ll want to prepare for cooking at least 15 dumplings at a time. But you can fold up more envelopes at this time, too.
Boil water in wok. Add 15 dumplings. This will cool the water some. Wait for the water to boil up again. When it’s again going full throttle, add ½ cup of colder water. Repeat two more times. After the third dash of cold or room-temp water, your dumplings should be floating on top of your wok, signifying that they are done. Your total cooking time for 15 dumplings should take no longer than seven or eight minutes.
Recipes courtesy of Sheng Xueni, Beijing hutong cook
Serving
Some people offer the cabbage mixture as a warm separate dish to eat while the dumplings boil. Others use it as a dumpling filling.
Chopped raw cucumber makes a cool complement to the meat dumplings.
Sheng Xueni suggests for either dumpling, or both, a dipping sauce made of equal parts soy sauce and rice vinegar, with chili added (or not) to taste. A good cook boils only 15 dumplings at a time, so they’re fresh and hot.
MAKES 24 TO 30 SMALL DUMPLINGS
LIQUN /11 BEIXANGFENG ALLEY /ZHENGYI
ROAD / CHONGWEN DISTRICT/ TEL: 86-10 6705-5578
UNLIKE OTHER BEIJING RESTAURANTS, YOU
MUST RESERVE AT LEAST 7 DAYS IN ADVANCE.
Moderate
LIQUN’S MILIEU
Make your way out of the winding alley that houses Liqun and try to catch a cab. Never miss an opportunity to hail one of Beijing’s relatively inexpensive taxis since the city is enormous and tends to be confusing. However, that shouldn’t inhibit your aprés-duck exploration. I’m not an advocate of too much pre-programming but perhaps you can make a plan before your visit to Liqun and rely on your cab driver to take you over to one of the main streets so that you can stroll in a whole new area. It’s a good idea to ask your hotel conciege to write an address in Chinese.
Beijing/
Front Burner
If you’ve never visited the original Raffles Hotel in Singapore, you can still win a prize by dropping into its new Beijing outpost. I’m told that its Afternoon Tea Buffet served daily in its Jaan Restaurant is a sumptuous spread overflowing with delights, both Asian and British.
JAAN, RAFFLES HOTEL/ 33 EAST CHANG AN
AVENUE/ TEL: 6526-3388-4186
“By midday the Tankadere was only about 45 miles from Shanghai. It had only six hours left to reach the port.”
—Jules Verne
So near and yet so far. Phileas thought he had finally overcome his missed connection from Hong Kong by hiring a boat to get him to Shanghai. The good news was that from there he could continue on and, in the nick of time, catch the steamer to San Francisco. The bad news was that just to keep the pot boiling, Verne never let Phileas actually get to Shanghai. That most definitely, was bad news.
The Shanghai of Phileas’ day was a great deal more unsavory than it is today. Shanghai Lil, one of the town’s more notorious ladies of the evening at the turn of the 19th century, is long gone with the intrigue and other questionable pleasures that Shanghai was once famous for. In the 1900s, sailors were routinely drugged and kidnapped from Shanghai’s seedy waterfront bars and sold to unscrupulous sea captains. When the seamen woke up they were on their way to nowhere but trouble. Thus the word “shanghaied” became part of the English vocabulary. Today, the luxury cruise ships that dock in Shanghai will only kidnap you if you bring them a boatload of money.
The British as well as the deposed last emperor of China used Shanghai as their personal playground. A whiff of seduction coupled with the scent of danger made it the perfect place to set a novel or have an affair. In the 1920s, Noel Coward wrote Private Lives while living in Shanghai and dancing the nights away in its posh clubs. In those days, everyone associated Shanghai with both lavish excess and drop-dead glamour. The good times came to a screeching halt when Shanghai suffered through the brutality of the Japanese invasion, and then its own countrymen’s rage during the ’60s Cultural Revolution. One can only think that its tempestuous past has helped to make the Shanghai of today one of the more intriguing major cities of the world.
In terms of temperament, Shanghai could not be more dissimilar to Beijing. Unlike its far more conservative sister, Shanghai vibrates with sophistication and cosmopolitan style. Its shops and hotels resemble those of Paris more than those of China’s capital, and the name of its game is money and power. Chinese government leaders know that if they play their mahjong right they can make Shanghai a 21st century Hong Kong but more controllable. The new Shanghai, unlike the still resistant Hong Kong, is truly “People’s Republic.”
The Oriental Pearl TV Tower dominates part of Shanghai’s skyline.
The faded glories of Shanghai’s colonial past include dozens of Victorian mansions and stunning Art Deco villas, as well as a taste for afternoon tea more suited to Chelsea than China. Even today, a stroll down the Bund, the grand promenade on the Huangpu River that houses Shanghai’s most important European banks, is a somewhat bittersweet reminder of its former worldly ties.
When I last visited Shanghai, just a few years ago, it was clear that a page had finally been turned. The vibrant Shanghai with its insatiable growth and cutting edge architecture (more than 2000 new skyscrapers), its remaining Art Deco embellishments and its rich, fashionable population is finally becoming what it was always meant to be: one of the great cities of the world. Its huge 2010-2011 fair, with extravagont pavillions raised by countries from all over the globe, accented this.
The food scene in Shanghai tends to honor the city’s new character which translates into freshness, fragrance and presentation. The most famous of Shanghai’s specialties is “drunken chicken” and although the birds don’t actually attend AA meetings, they are steeped in enough wine to feel no pain. Most of the other menu headliners depend on fresh-caught hairy crab and almost every other conceivable kind of shellfish.
The dining establishments around town not only represent all corners of China; new restaurants are opening daily that showcase chefs from around the world. They’ve come to seek their fortune cookies as well as bedazzle the locals with an array of non-Sino presentations. A perfect case in point is Jean-Georges Vongerichten, that master of “Nouvelle Cuisine.”
JEAN GEORGES SHANGHAI – #57
Even though Jean Georges is almost a household name among the truly well fed in America, when I visit a culinary venue as exciting as China I usually can’t bring myself to focus on a restaurant that is not of the country. It has always seemed to me a colossal waste to eat continental food when I’m not on the continent in question. Of course there will always be exceptions but in general, if I’m in China, why order Veal Prince Orloff?
Now back to Jean Georges and his wonderful venture in Shanghai. I dropped in because the press about it was so intriguing and I thought if I just went for tea in the afternoon, I could still maintain my local-food-only discipline. While I was there I must confess that I couldn’t resist having more than one of his maniacally sinful desserts. Everything chocolate, his variations on a chocolate theme were seriously impressive not to mention seriously caloric. They included a white chocolate parfait studded with raisins and lime, a velvety chocolate caramel mousse showered in a fine grind of Sichuan pepper and, to top it all off, a chocolate cookie with beet and raspberry jam—a chocoholic’s fantasy come true. Its only competition might have been the posh surroundings I was devouring all this in, as well as the view, overlooking the tranquil Huangpu River.
Jean Georges is the perfect place to relax and drink in the serene atmosphere as well as a cup of musky, deep green tea.
Photo by Jill Shih
As for the rest of the menu, the foie gras served with star anise flowers and the steamed snapper with basil puree—I might some day allow myself the privilege of making their acquaintance.
But not before I’ve made a couple of more appearances in more of the great, more typically Shanghainese temples of gastronomy. Then and only then will I throw my chopsticks to the wind.
JEAN- GEORGE/ 3 ZHONGSHAN EAST ROAD
(FOURTH FLOOR)/ TEL: 86-21-6321-7733
Expensive
JEAN GEORGES’ MILIEU
Walk along the Huangpu River and explore the Bund, the dazzling new/old financial district of Shanghai. Amid the latest architectural amazements there are the beautiful Art Deco treasures that once housed some of Europe’s greatest banks. Try to stop at Sassoon House, built by Victor Sassoon, in the ’20s. At the time, he was the most famous of Shanghai’s many banking tycoons. If Lalique glass makes you swoon, it did the same for Sir Victor, and the lobby of the building is filled with some of the famous glassmaker’s most beautiful designs.
LU BO LANG – #58
We try, sometimes without success, to avoid stuffed shirts but how about stuffed buns? Shanghai takes its stuffed buns very seriously, and so do I. The buns at Lu Bo Lang are not so much stuffed as crammed with all manner of scrumptious things: steamed crab, sautéed prawns, oysters, duck, succulent barbequed pork. The buns themselves are meltingly moist and light enough to almost levitate off your plate (I said almost).
Lu Bo Lang echoes the feeling of old Shanghai, and is filled with regulars who seem to be part of another age. It’s the perfect place to escape from the cosmopolitan throngs and step into the past. It’s also the perfect place to polish off a plate of Lu Bo’s mouth watering buns. The rest of the menu is pure Shanghainese, including its own outstanding version of Drunken Chicken.
LU BO LANG/ 115 YUYUAN ROAD / HUANGPU/
NO PHONE
Inexpensive
LU BO LANG’S MILIEU
If you’re feeling adventuress you might just want to explore some of the small Buddhist temples to be found all around Lu Bo Lang. I couldn’t help stopping to light a joss stick or two. I felt it was the least I could do after having all those ethereal buns.
CRYSTAL JADE – #59
Dim sum junkies, and I count myself as one of the more addicted, need to feed our craving no matter where we go. But when we get to China the need becomes almost insatiable. After all, it’s the mother ship for dumpling lovers the world over. In Shanghai, the place for the dim sum dependent would be Crystal Jade.
Courtesy of Crystal Jade Group
Almost too handsome to be a place that is focused mainly on little doughy morsels that drip, not only onto the table but also down the front of my new silk jacket, Crystal Jade is Dumpling Central in Shanghai. It’s the kind of place where one can polish off a plateful of fried pork dumplings with spicy pickled radish in short order. Or if dumplings are not on your personal agenda (perish the thought) then how about trying a crisp fried wonton (really a dumpling in disguise) served with a fiery-hot chili sauce?
Even though the Crystal Jade I chose (one in a familiar chain around town) lives on the second floor of a rather mundane shopping mall, the restaurant itself is a dramatic, glassed-in, two story space covered with mirrors that reflect not only the crowds but also the towers of small wicker steamers that decorate each table. Don’t expect the usual rolling carts and roaming servers here. Not only is everything made to order but made as soon as ordered. No waiting until Chinese New Year, and then delivered cold to your table.
Courtesy of Crystal Jade Group
Crystal Jade is not only known for its dim sum, but also for its homemade pulled noodles topped with meat sauce, and its Shanghai soup dumplings, those small pillows with a surprise center filled with scalding broth. The best way to eat them without having to make a trip to the Mayo Clinic is to carefully bite an opening in the dough with your teeth. Then, after a moment or two as the broth cools, suck it out ever so gently, and savor it for a moment before wolfing down the rest of the dumpling. Not worth the effort you say? I guess you’ve never had a genuine Shanghai soup dumpling!
CRYSTAL JADE/ SOUTH BLOCK/ XINTIANDI/
HOUSE 6-7, LANE 123/ TEL: 8621-6385-8752
Moderate
CRYSTAL JADE’S MILIEU
The shopping mall that houses this restaurant is an opportunity to test your ability to survive sensory overload. Exploring it will give you and your credit cards quite a workout.
BAO LUO – #60
Every one has certainly heard the phrase “cheap Chinese” but Bao Luo gives new meaning to that phrase while serving up some of the best food in Shanghai.
To mark its entrance, Bao Luo has nothing but a tiny sign done in red neon—just to let you know that you’ve arrived. It doesn’t even have its whole name on the outside, just BL. Now that’s what I call confidence. And it’s well deserved, judging by the crowds who vie for one of its coveted tables.
Holding almost 300 ravenous patrons at any given time, Bao Luo is the kind of place where friends meet and then hang out for hours. The Seinfeld gang would have been right at home here. Maybe that’s why it’s so hard to get a table.
You could say that Bao Luo serves up Shanghai soul food. Typical are the crab and pork meatballs. Who knows how many plates of those luscious, mini-spheres Bao serves in a day? You can bet that it’s enough to keep a small army sated. It’s clear that Bao Luo is the kind of place that feeds the spirit as well as the body.
BAO LUO’S MILIEU
Fumin Lu is in an area that is filled with bookstores. Don’t be deterred because most of the books are in Chinese. Shanghai has such an international profile, there may be sections devoted to Chinese novels that have been translated into English, or perhaps you’ll find book illustrations that are more than worthy of framing. How can you possibly resist such a golden literary opportunity? The street also hosts a clutch of small calligraphy shops, and dealers who stock art supplies. You will be in a neighborhood of infinite gift possibilities.
BAO LUO/2721 FUMIN LU/ TEL: 8621-6279-2827
MR. AND MRS. BUND
If you’re maxed out on Shanghainese specialties, why not try French chef Paul Pairet’s Asian spin on the usual French suspects? Pairet’s recent Gallic addition to the Shanghai restaurant scene became an instant haunt for the town’s boldfaced names. The reports are that Mr. and Mrs. Bund remains a cool place to be seen.
6/F BUND 1818 ZHONGSHAN DONG YI LU/ THE
BUND/ TEL: 6323-9898
CRYSTAL JADE GOLDEN PALACE
If one Crystal Jade in Shanghai is terrific (as I indicated in my Shanghai restaurant selections) then two would have to be even more terrific. At a newer Crystal Jade Golden Palace, the management has given the menu a healthier spin and is actually offering less salt, oil and sugar to lighten the profile of some of their presentations. Not only that but they’ve added an extensive wine cellar, which is unusual for a Chinese restaurant. Can sommeliers be far behind?
CRYSTAL JADE GOLDEN PALACE/ 290 ORCHARD
ROAD/ TEL: 6734-6866
