Chinese, Western, Indian, Thai, High Tea--whatever your stomach is grumbling for, Hong Kong seems to have it, and Hong Kong seems to prepare it well. Though street food is abundant, traveling with my parents handed me a few higher-end dining opportunities that I was not about to pass up.
The first of such grand opportunities was Spoon. A recommendation from our hotel concierge had us walking across the street to the Intercontinental for an extravagant meal at this high-end French restaurant. The prices on the right side of the menu had my heart hammering (even though I knew I would not be the one to foot the lofty bill). However, if you can swallow the large numbers, the perfectly executed cuisine will slide down easily. The whole experience was heightened by one of the best views of the Hong Kong harbor that a tourist can hope to see.
The next morning my parents and I had Sunday brunch at the Conrad, at Nicolini's on the Eighth. While the all-you-can-eat buffet brunch is hardly inexpensive, our three hour dining experience made up of five plus courses made it an unforgettable experience. I had fresh pasta made to order, sashimi and rolls, crab and lobster, a selection of meats, a crepe with ice cream and fresh fruit toppings, and a dainty sampling of a large number of desserts.
More than one person recommended that I eat dim sum while in Hong Kong. Originally a breakfast food in Hong Kong, dim sum has infiltrated lunch and dinner time as well, and translated into Mandarin (点心) it has even broadened its definition to refer to other small snack items or even dessert. However, of all the dim sum places in Hong Kong, the one that a native Hong Konger recommended was the restaurant, Maxim's Palace, in City Hall. There, women push around dim sum carts through the ballroom sized dining hall, and diners simply call over the carts that look intriguing. We sat, drank tea, and sampled various rolls and buns until we decided that there are probably other things to do in Hong Kong besides eating.
Possibly the best Thai food we had on our Hong Kong/Bangkok trip was sadly not in Thailand (though fear not, we ate quite there, too) but in a little restaurant called Soho Spice by Hong Kong's long line of escalators in Central. The restaurant was small, modern, romantically lit, and staffed with waiters and waitresses who were attentive but not overbearing. I stuffed myself at Soho Spice as though I hadn't eaten in days. The hearty meat curries were addictive, and the rice was just enough to put out the small fire with which good green curry tends to set your tongue aflame.
My parents taught me to travel. The taught me not only why and how I should love travel, but also how to travel. I remember clearly that when my parents, my sister, my grandmother, and I were in Paris together back when I was in middle school, we would have a late breakfast and dinner, but that would leave something to be desired in the afternoon, when you're worn out from sight seeing and hungry before dinner. In Paris, we would fill that gap with cheese, wine, bread and chocolate--all things good and all things French. However, that 2-4pm belly rumble is also known around the world as tea time, and we took advantage of that remarkably elegant tradition on more than one occasion during this vacation. Our first of such experiences was High tea at the Peninsula (and later high tea at the Shangri-la in Bangkok).
The Peninsula does not take reservations for tea, which it holds in its elegantly styled lobby lined with high-end shops. This means that the long queue of people, who were all sporting jeans and other every-day wear, snakes awkwardly between the tea-sipping customers and the store vendors who all wait patiently besides their glass doors. Once seated and served after a 40 minute wait, my propriety minded father pointed out a failing that only he and Mrs. Manners would likely find disturbing: the solitary knife in each place setting meant that one has to dip a dirty jam knife into the butter, thereby improperly mixing condiments. To me, looking around the room at my brilliant fortune--particularly coming from the still impoverished mainland--this observation rang like a joke. By virtue of attending high tea, all potential complaints about the experience in question must be muted. The divine luxury that shrouds the experience of taking an hour or two out of the middle of your day to eat little sandwiches and clotted cream (which I highly recommend) off of expensive china quells any criticism about lines, casual dress, or missing knives. If you are looking for the utmost propriety and perfection, a noisy lobby full of weary, under dressed travelers might not be the place to find it. I cannot, in good faith, recommend this tea time as the be all and end all of high teas. However, I would also recommend to the person who is looking for perfection that maybe he not exhaust so much time looking. And do try the clotted cream.