There are two types of people in the world, those who carry store loyalty cards and those who do not. I, for now at least, am in the "nots". Despite technology enabling me to make my life significantly more convenient by, for example, tapping my iphone to pay for goods and services the world over or, better still, by allowing me to frivolously access Lad Bible videos on a janky wifi connection in a remote beach camp in Sri Lanka, I am still asked to carry round a small piece of cardboard if I want to earn a free muffin for every twelve sandwiches I buy at my usual lunch stop. Until technology used by most shops in Hong Kong catches up with the real world, this is why I don't have store loyalty cards.
I recently read the excellent book Homo Deus by a clever Israeli chap who asks us to reflect on questions about technology surpassing the abilities of man and potentially making us totally redundant, or, at the very least, some kind of servile slave class that exists only to turn on wifi hotspots and charging ports, like very well qualified gas station attendants (I paraphrase, but only slightly).
My considered response to this compelling and well thought through analysis of the modern world is simply that, if robots are imminently about to take over, why is it that people still collect stamps at the supermarket? Stamps! You heard me right. Like in the 1950s! Little stickers that you collect and put in a book and, when you have spent your entire life savings on loo roll to complete it, try and trade in at the supermarket only to find out the offer ended a month ago.
Believe me that the coming technological apocalypse and enslavement of modern man by giant shiny spiders seems a fair way off when you are stood in line behind a seventy year old crone trading in a fully completed sticker book for a Jamie Oliver 24cm spring form cake tin. In short, Crone 1 – Technology 0.
Despite being grouchy about supermarket stamps I still do, of course, like a bargain. Who doesn't? A particularly useful app popped up a while ago that lets you book restaurants at unpopular times for a discount. Ever fancied a five course French meal at 11.30pm on the first Monday back at work after Christmas? It's yours for 50% off. Bam!
Due to a sneaky insider tip, I secured a relatively bargainous deal at Blue Supreme in Sheung Wan, a modern looking craft beer place which also, in its own words "showcases new American cuisine weekly, with a limited but constant evolving menu". Mysterious, makes me look suave for invited inner companion, probably quite cheap. Sold! Thank you technology!
So off we trotted at 10pm on the night before Christmas* to dinner. Happily my dining companion didn't ask too many questions about the timing of the booking, or the unusually suave dinner suggestion for a Sunday night, meaning that, as long as the food was decent and she didn't see the huge discount on the bill, I was already mentally chalking up the evening as a win.
The atmosphere was very much expat neighbourhood winebar, and the buzzy crowd of expats stroking small dogs and generally enjoying themselves attested to this. If you've ever been to a Vinoteca in London, you'll get the idea. We went for the unusual combo of four starters and a main to share, in the spirit of adventure.
Some blackened and dressed brussel sprouts and assorted greens were crunchy, slightly bitter, and moreish, although a little small, even for a starter. The broccolini, similarly grilled and with some toasted nuts, a little splash of something green on the plate and a few other bits were equally good. I was feeling positively virtuous until I remembered that one of the "starters' we ordered was a massive plate of Provençal fries – basically chips covered in dried green and red herb and spice powders. They looked a bit like the photos of people after the holi festival in India – redolent, glorious, unashamedly photogenic and, most obviously, covered in paint powder. They were, unsurprisingly, and as most chips are, bloody fantastic, especially with the aioli on the side. The next (and last) starter was a slightly weird mushroom dashi with assorted wild mushrooms, some tofu and a few raw root vegetable noodles. It was, admittedly, pretty good (especially the fried enoki, which my dining companion loved), but felt a bit too subtle and out of place alongside the other very western menu items. The dashi was also a bit cold, if I were to quibble further.
The main event was a beautifully cooked piece of wagyu hanger steak, dotted with kinda-pesto and artfully placed on a savoury green sauce, with some mash and dressed greens on the side. It is the kind of dish that is worth going out for – great ingredients, cooked simply, presented beautifully and with maximum bang for your (50% off) buck. The middle of the meat was that beautiful reddy/purple you get from properly aged beef, and it melted away in your mouth like warm butter, slipping away almost too quickly to leave you fully satisfied.
Desert was a slightly cake-y cookie each and a glass of full fat milk, which probably had a bit of extra sugar and cream in there for good measure. It had me purring like a cat and reminded me of an old school family treat of having full fat milk on cereal at my Grandpa's house as a kid, which put plain old semi skimmed at home into very sharp relief.
The bill came, I paid quickly, and, thanks to the wonders of technology, it was a bloody bargain. In fairness, it was probably a bit steep if I'd have paid the full price. But I didn't (technology - yay!). If I can eat like this every day for this much, bring on all the giant shiny spiders you want.
*Not really, it was 8.30pm on a Sunday.