A World of Taste Awaits
The glaring, delicious deficit sitting right in front of me was a challenge to explore and a gift to enjoy it.
Hong Kong has a spectacularly unwieldy and spellbinding density to it that makes it feel even more cosmopolitan and charismatic than it already is. Day or night, this prolific city seems to sparkle with an immutable and unmatched liveliness. It is quite simply and quite evidently alive.
To first take it in is to be hyperaware of how industrious, how innovative and how important these 400+ square miles are to the world around it. Every impression thereafter whether by foot, flight or darting about the island through its tunnels and ferries sweeps us up in Hong Kong’s glorious urban sprawl where taste, endeavor and natural beauty engulf and captivate us.
Without much effort, one can feel anonymous in this over-achieving metropolis of 7M+ people from all walks of life. But unlike other megacities of its size, I found it refreshingly easy to have the most lovely and real conversations in its bars, shops and restaurants. Also, unlike other cities of its size who boast the same first-world luxuries and access, I found it surprisingly effective in inspiring mindfulness with pensive spaces of rich, spiritual significance like the Ten Thousand Buddha Monastery, the Man Mo Temple, and the Kowloon Walled City.
In an effort to capture its essence, a lot has been said about Hong Kong. One need only to eat, drink, and wander its streets, storefronts and sites of interest to absorb its magical blend of East meets West, to fall in sync with its throbbing cultural heartbeat and to extract its melting pot of infinite flavors.
My first meal in the city was lunch at Bouillion a charming French Bistro where the restaurant’s host was generous with his recommendations for wine and small plates. I tried the pâté, an onion tart at his polite and well-deserved insistence, and of course my favorite Steak Tartare. Having been one of the first patrons to sit down that day, I watched the empty tables fill up with friends, co-workers, and lovers whose stories and inspired sentiments roused this cozy restaurant to rare form by any standard for a Monday anywhere around the world.
After leaving the restaurant I willingly and shamelessly resigned to Hong Kong’s shopping scene, which is as world renown as its culinary one. There are the antique, souvenir and jade shops on Cat Street, a litany of independent boutiques and galleries scattered about both sides of Victoria Harbour and huge shopping complexes like Victoria Dockside which house everything predictable from couture to regional to big global brands. And then, there was my most rewarding find in the city, a boutique shopper’s paradise to rival all others - PMQ Staunton. Here the powers that be decided to revitalize a historic building that was at first a school and then after the war rebuilt as a Police Married Quarters. Today it is a cultural hub of innovation and design with cafes, creative ventures, a mini museum on the building’s history and transformation and then… floors stacked upon floors of independent, artisan shops selling everything from handmade jewelry to apparel to leather goods, hats, housewares and so on and so on. I took home a pair of earrings from The Little Finger, an eyeglass case wrapped in a repurposed vintage evening gown from Absolute Vintage and a hipster-ish badminton themed sweater from Glue Associates. It was at the latter where I encountered a fitting message on of all things a milk glass coffee mug. It struck such a chord that it now sits on my bathroom counter reminding me every day that every flower must grow through dirt.
Chaat One word. One Michelin Star. One extraordinary lunch. Nestled inside one of the always gorgeous Rosewood Hotels, Chaat was one of those meals where ambiance, setting and taste came together in perfect, mouthwatering unison. The crazy cool décor – lavish tilework, thoughtful textures and yummy color palette – complemented Indian dishes that were savory, sexy and simply sublime. Chaat exuded a fashionable confidence that was hard not to want to be a part of. It was definitely a place to be seen but not obnoxious or pretentious. Honestly, it was just 1000% delicious.
I didn’t and couldn’t say no to a single dish on the fixed menu and yet somehow at the end of lunch, through a trademark blend of luck and skill, I “made room for” my first ever pulling of Marsala Chai Tea. As the hot tea glug, glug, glugged its way into my teacup, two realizations struck me. First, I was confronted with a rhetorical question – how on earth have I never tried this before?! It tastes and looks beautiful. Then a second, more searing realization slid in behind that but it wasn’t nearly as gentle or dispassionate. In fact, it stung and made me feel like a fraud. How could I as a self-described foodie have such gaping inexperience with either entire countries’ cuisines (I was just coming off of two revealing weeks in Vietnam) or some of their most iconic flavors? It was true, I was anything but a fussy eater but suddenly I was staring at volumes upon volumes of taste I had yet to discover for no other reason than I had sheepishly, boorishly or naively – pick one or all of the above – nurtured a bias toward Western flavors and cuisines.
And while I was intentionally being overly dramatic and hard on myself at the time and by no means did I actually ever think I had tried it all, I was engaging in exactly the kind of self-reflection and discovery that I believe travel asks from each of us. The glaring, delicious deficit sitting right in front of me was a challenge to explore more and a gift to enjoy it. As fortunate as I have been to travel Europe so extensively, I now want and need to shift focus, as means and opportunity allow, to destinations where literally a world of taste awaits me – India, Korea, the Philippines, Central America and Africa.
As it turned out, my final meal in Hong Kong was Asian and a cuisine I am incredibly well versed in, Japanese. I had chosen omakase at Udatsu. My first impression was it was way too somber and quiet-like-a-library for my liking. However, it wasn’t long before I realized what it lacked in decibel levels Udatsu made up for in taste and ceremony. Sushi making here was a more spiritual endeavor, one of extreme mindfulness and skill. I found myself feeling incredibly grateful to even sit at this counter where I would come to taste exceptional artistry and commitment to one’s calling and purpose. What was once just a calculated splurge on my bucket list, now became a timely message from the universe to never stop reaching for and pursuing that which inspires me. I couldn’t help but be deeply moved by what had played out in front of me and as I took my last sip of sake and signed the check, my mind drifted to something Picasso once said, “The meaning of life is to find your gift. The purpose of life is to give away.”
