After a hot day schlepping round on the Star Ferry, enjoying a Starbucks frap on Victoria Peak and riding up and down the mid-levels escalator "because I mean…who puts an escalator outside , it's just SOOO COOL", HK Expat and HK Visitor consider their evening dinner options.
HK Visitor: "Wow, isn't all that bamboo scaffolding amazing?!"
HK Expat: "[silently groans for the 87th time that day]…Haha! Yeah…"
HK Visitor: "I mean who knew that stuff was so strong? It's like the whole city is held up by string! By the way, what are we doing for dinner tonight? Can we go somewhere local?"
HK Expat: "[eyes light up at the prospect of proving their local credentials to HK Visitor] I know just the place...have you ever eaten at a wet market?"
HK Visitor: "You mean one of those yukky looking carpark buildings which smell like fish?"
HK Expat: "Yeah, I mean, it looks gross, but I know this one place where they open beers with chopsticks and the waiters dance around in wellies. The food is great too - Anthony Bourdain has been there and liked it. I'll give some friends a call too – it's better in a group".
HK Visitor: "Anthony Bourdain? No way man! Sign me up. Can we get the escalator there? That thing is AMAZING".
HK Expat: …[groans].
So begins an evening at Tung Po, a jostling, bustling stall on the first floor of in an inconspicuous wet market in North Point.
First, the facts:
1. Yes, they do open beer with chopsticks, and you can learn how to as well, so that when you find yourself stranded on a desert island you too can open those ice cold beers you will, of course, have, with a single chopstick, which also happens to be your only other possession at the time.
2. Yes, they do play loud music and the waiters do dance around in wellington boots.
3. Yes, Anthony Bourdain has been there and he really did like the food (see the early episodes of his brilliant "No Reservations" series). It is also important to point out, for reasons that will shortly become clear, that this was nearly 10 years ago.
There was part of me that wanted to call this post "The Curse of Anthony Bourdain", but I think that would be unfair to the many establishments which appear to have maintained their standards between the visit of the ageing rock chef and me (gold star to Joy Hing).
Perhaps they were having an off day. Perhaps we ordered badly. Perhaps they just didn't like the look of us. Man alive it was bad.
From deep-fried egg yolk prawns overcooked in rancid oil to a particularly beguiling dish of fried pork ribs in mayonnaise that tasted a bit like white chocolate, it was bad from beginning to end. Even the famous squid ink spaghetti adored by Tony (oh, Tony…) was so claggy as to be basically inedible. The only salvation was that I didn't find myself glued to the toilet seat the next day, which, if I'm being honest, was a concern at the time.
The bad taste in the mouth was literal and metaphorical. Questions abound. Why do people think this place is good? Why don't they just give you a bottle opener? Why is it so expensive (cHK$400 a head for the privilege of eating bad food in a wet market)? Why oh why do people still get excited out by escalators outside?
I should say at this mid-rant stage that I really like the idea of eating fabulous local food in a wet market, I really do. I trust Anthony Bourdain. And, more to the point, I am certain that this place was once the authentic local gastronomic paradise of my Asian food inspired wet dreams when I watch back tape of him gobbling down the squid ink spaghetti with a knowing grin on his face. Sadly, in my humble opinion, this is all you can do – close your eyes and hark back to better, more exciting times. The Tung Po of old is dead and gone. Sorry Tony.