Fish and Co @ Glass House

Late Lunch

• "The Best Fish and Chips in Town"... with Rice
• Chips

I went out with the swimmers for the day for some pool and dota. I'm really treasuring my last days in Singapore. I know that once I go away, there will be no more free time.

We had just walked in from Paradiz SC for a quick lunch. We were seated at a long rectangular table pushed together haphazardly to accommodate us. The decor was really pretty, with a "by the sea" atmosphere and crates and barrels and plastic fish on plaques on the wall. I went with the "Best Fish and Chips in Town", except that I've been getting really chubby lately so I decided to ask for rice instead of the fries.

And this is really what happened next. The food took damn long to come. There were like three of us who ordered the fish and chips and we just sat there gazing as all the people got their food and we didn't. Some of the rest who ordered the salmon had already finished already and our pans were still not here. I should've got pretty worked up about it but didn't want to really do anything about it. I just kinda sat there collected because I knew there was no fuss to make.

They offered us fries. My question is WHY? I purposely ordered the fish and chips without the chips and they give us complementary chips to compensate for the slow service! That's just dumb.

My pan came the very last, just as Pin Chuan was finishing his swordfish. It had a good helping of orange colored spiced rice mixed with vegetables and squid. It wasn't half bad, after squeezing the slice of lemon on it. I didn't do that for the fish though, because I didn't want to curdle the cream sauce, which also went well with the crispy exterior of the fish. It had this buttermilk fragrance to it, which made the fried piece of fish only richer. This wasn't something for the light stomach, but unfortunately, definitely not the best I've tasted in this town. The fish was just too rough and dry, a sign of imperfection in the process of frying.

Total cost: S$13.90++
Rating: aaaaa

http://www.fish-co.com

SSEILMCC Recipe: Cream-based Pasta Sauce

And welcome back to another exciting "So Simple Even Idiots Like Me Can Cook" Recipe, or SSEILMCC, because I'm not Singaporean and can't come up with better acronyms. Today's recipe comes by request from a friend of mine who wanted to know how I made those creamy pasta dishes at his house at all those team sleepovers (though I can't really remember sleeping at any of them). I got this one from a packet of pasta many years ago. So Zheng Yue, here's a copy (or at least an abridged one) of that email I sent you.

Note to reader: I usually make this in a large pot for a large group, so I can't really give estimates of how many people this will serve. That will somewhat depend also on how much pasta you want on one plate, how much sauce you want to go with your pasta (the Sauce-Pasta Ration) and how many servings one person will eat. Go with your instincts on that one. So...

For an unspecified number of servings, you will need...

For the sauce base:

• Cream (sometimes called whipping cream or thickened cream; usually found in small boxes at the dairy sections)
• Milk
• Grated Cheese (use the stuff already grated in plastic bags or buy a chunk and grate it yourself; go for light types like Parmesan or a pizza mix; don't even think about using the sliced kind - like "Cheesedale")
• Dried Spices like mint, pepper, bay leaves (optional)
• Pesto (green mixture of olive oil, garlic, basil, and other herbs; available in small jars at supermarkets)

For ingredients within the sauce (optional, depending on personal preference, best if you stick to one from each category):

• Lean meat category (eg. shredded ham, sliced sausage or salami, shredded chicken)
• Vegetable category (eg. bell pepper strips - any or multiple colors, sliced fresh mushroom caps, onions)
• Butter (to fry all these extra ingredients in)

For the pasta:

• Pasta (use the lengthy types; I recommend linguine, angel hair or fettuccini for cream based sauces like this one)
• Potful of water
• Salt

A note on cooking concurrently

What makes pasta dishes so popular to impatient people like me is that they take very little time to cook. Boil the water, throw in the pasta, cook some sauce and bam! you have your meal. So, in order to not waste any time, it is better if you first start by boiling the pasta then use another pan or a smaller pot to make the sauce concurrently, checking on the pasta ever so often. This would imply that you need two stove places and two pieces of cookware.

Oodles of noodles

This is the method for the pasta:

1. Fill a large pot ¾ full with water and bring this to boil. As it comes to a boil, add 2 tablespoons of salt, making sure it dissolves.
2. Add the pasta into the salted water.
3. Boil until the pasta is tender, but not soft, and drain.

Method for sauce (do this concurrently):

1. Melt and heat some butter (depending on how much meat/vege you have) in a smaller pot and panfry the meats and/or vegetables in the butter until cooked (for meat) or slightly seared (for vegetable).
2. Wh the cooked meat & vege inside the pot, mix in a good helping of pesto, about 2 tbspns and stir well so that meat &/ vege is well coated.
3. Take out the meat &/ vege and set this aside first. leave the remaining uncoated pesto and butter in the pot
4. Using the same pot, mix the cream and milk together, bring this to a half boil and then add the grated cheese
5. This is the tricky part, because the combination of milk, cream and cheese will determine the consistency for your sauce. Here are some general guidelines:
• Cream adds to the richness and fluidity of the sauce
• Milk adds to the fluidity of the sauce
• Cheese adds to the thickness of the sauce
• So, what you need to do is to decide how thick (vs how fluid) and how rich (vs how non-rich) you want your sauce. Eg. if you want a really thick and rich sauce, you might decide to only add cream and lots of cheese, whereas if you want a runny sauce, you might just add cream and milk and only a sprinkle of cheese. Milk is optional, cream and cheese - no matter how little - are not. I usually go with 250ml of cream and another 250ml of milk and a tablespoon of cheese - this serves about four.
• Remember, since you used the same pot for the searing of the meat and vegetables, there will be butter (along with the pesto) left inside, which will also add to the richness already.
• When reheating the sauce, it would have most likely thickened. just add a bit of milk.
  stir well to allow cheese to melt.
6. Then add spices (a few spoons of mint, a pinch of pepper, a few bay leaves) more pesto if need be. All optional.
7. Bring to boil and then stir in the meat &/ vege set aside earlier over a slow fire and let it heat for about half a minute, or more time if you want the sauce to thicken. At this stage, if the sauce is too thick, you can add a bit more milk.
8. Pour sauce over pasta in dishes - and you're done. Yay.

Crystal Jade Macau Cafe @ Bugis Junction

Lunch

• Roast Appetizer Combo (includes porkchops, spare ribs, mussels, chicken wings, just to name a few)
• Black Pepper Beef Noodles
• Beef Brisket Noodle Soup
• Vegetables with assorted mushrooms
• Porkchop bun (2 orders)
• Curried Vegetables
• Shrimp Toast
• Satay Beef Macaroni in Soup
• Portuguese Chicken Curry Baked Rice
• Hot Nai Cha

I shall not dwell on this establishment for too long, because I've got bigger fish to fry - like the Fish & Co post I want to get to. This was a family outing with my parent's friends (their two kids, both sons, were just adorable) and there were 9 of us in total. The place is tucked away in a spacious corner in the basement of Bugis Junction next to the Cold Storage supermarket. It used to be one of the better Crystal Jade Kitchens, adjoined to a Crystal Jade Bakery, but they converted it recently to a new Macau concept cafe.

The cuisine from Macau draws influence from Portuguese cuisine (the Portuguesse were the colonialists who ran the place before it was ceded back to China) and Cantonese cuisine. Thus, you can see a lot of Portuguese curries, but still have Hong Kong style noodle and macaroni dishes with cups of Nai Cha and Iced Red Bean Drinks.

The curry dishes (the vegetables and the chicken baked rice) were very enjoyable indeed. The fragrance from the coconut milk used in the yellowish curry was alluring and tasty. This Portuguese type of curry is also less heavy as compared to other kinds, despite it being very rich, and not spicy at all, which makes me like it all the more. The Macau style snacks like the shrimp toast (prawn, cheese, cream and herbs on small slices of crisp toast) and the porkchop bun (similar to the one at Cat's Street) were also savory delights: light, not too filling but just enough to satisfy. (Even akin to 'dim sum'.)

Authenticity wise, I can't really say, because I haven't actually been to Macau before. But this restaurant is nonetheless a good place to go to for some good cooking, preferably as a group, so that you can try and share various dishes.

Total cost: around S$135
Rating: aaaaa

The Cafe' Cartel @ Plaza Singapura

Dinner

• Item no 921: Grilled Chicken with Texas Ranch Mushroom sauce
• with a side of Steamed Vegetables
• and Pasta
• Free flow of Water and Bread

My first meal out back in Singapore. It's not as bad as the last time I came back to Singapore from Hong Kong, which was in February. Last time, it was winter in Hong Kong and when I got back, I had a hard time adjusting to the temperature and humidity.

There were six of us in all. We had just come from the inter-schools swimming finals' first day, where a sizable crowd (including quite a number of seniors) had formed. I was relieved to sit down to some bread and water in the restaurant's factory/studio decor. We looked through the confusing yet stylish menu and filled out our orders on the "self order pad".

Cafe Cartel has a rather interesting system. They actually give you this pad of paper to write your orders on, together with all the relevant info such as "special requests" and the "doneness of stake" (haha), after which you give them the chit and pay for your meal at the counter. In the process, the servers and waiters are bypassed and thus, the service charge is waived, which is a good thing since the service sucked and we had to make trips of our own to the bread and water table.

Though the service was horrible, at least it was prompt. My grilled chicken with Texas ranch mushroom sauce came about 8 minutes after we'd ordered. In my opinion, it didn't look like anything from a Texas ranch. (For one, there are no grill marks on the chicken steak. It looks more panfried.) I didn't taste any mushroom in the sauce either; it tasted more like regular barbeque sauce, only saltier. The whole meal was overspiced. The pasta tossed in olive oil had too much dried spices in it. The vegetables were too salty as well. Maybe I've gotten too use to the subtleness of Cantonese cooking - but I think not. Everything here had spice overkill written on it. And the portion was pathetically meager.

This place never did look that convincing of a restaurant; it looked more like a wannabe joint trying to cater to a school-going crowd. I'm not too sure about its alleged history either. According to its menu, the chain was started in New York by an Italian grandmother and a Jewish baker 35 years ago. Googling it didn't yield such results. I wonder if establishments are allowed to make up histories?

Anyways, in accordance with past standards, I must regretfully give it three ticks.

Total cost: S$11.90
Rating: aaaaa

http://www.cafecartel.com.sg/

Inflight Meal @ UA895, 40000 feet in the air

Dinner on a tray

• Stir-fried noodles with pork
• Assorted fruits (including grapes, slices of pineapple and watermelon)
• Salad with Thousand Island dressing
• Dinner Bun
• Ginger Ale

Airplane food, like hospital food, has always been known to be horrible, unless, that is, if you fly first or business class. But of course, I wasn't. So, I was stuck with a tray with those mini plastic box containers with the food in them.

I got a seat next to one of the huge pressurized doors, which meant infinite legroom. Score! True, I didn't have a place to put my sling bag (since there was no seat in front of me), which I had to stow in the overhead bins above in the end, but that didn't faze me at all, not with the extended legroom. And the extra responsibility of opening the door should there have been an didn't worry me much. I had flown so many times in my life that I've practically outgrown the fear. And, I'd be the first one to safety in such circumstances. When I was young, I would always read those cute graphical safety information cards in the seat pocket in front of me - so much so that nowadays, I don't even bother. I only get worried during takeoff and landing because it's the most dangerous part of any flight - but then again, sometimes I sleep through them like a baby.

The dinner on a tray came halfway through the flight. I was sitting next to a mother-daughter pair of Singaporeans and they were fast asleep when the food came. They were really annoying, which is typical of them. Girls and mothers are fine on their own, but put them together, and plus me on the aisle seat beside, and nerves begin breaking down. When they first sat down during boarding, they were already at it with their Singlish and fashion magazines. As if the Singlish wasn't bad enough, it was made worse by the bitching tone they adopted while discussing the trivial matters of the world of luxury goods and celebrity looks. Why couldn't I have been placed next to one of those Americans sitting behind me? (It has come to my attention from experience that sitting next to Americans, Italians, Britons and Spaniards make for the best thoughtful inflight conversation.) I didn't bother waking "the sisters" up for the meal, in fear of getting more of this. The flight attendant didn't either, and I slowly and quietly unfolded the tray table which came out of the arm rest. I asked for the entire can of ginger ale.

I chose the stir-fried noodles over the beef and mash potatoes with rational thought (see sidebar). I didn't bother taking a picture, because I was already quite hungry by then, and doing so in such dark surroundings would have meant a camera flash and that would make certain people think I was trying to set off a bomb. Being the type that based my judgment on the principles that a) the better the food looks the better it'd taste, and b) always save the best for last, I started with the bun and fruit, moved on to the noodles and then the salad last.

Skipping the monotones of my buttering the bread and spitting out the grape seeds, I peeled off the piece of foil covering the box to reveal a piping hot layer of thick egg noodles. It had shards of pork and strands of sliced green and red bell peppers mixed into it. They didn't provide chopsticks so I was forced to use a fork and spoon to slurp up the noodles. They weren't half bad, but that was probably my stomach talking. They did lack a bit of taste, so I sprinkled a bit of the pepper which came in a small paper sachet with the cutlery.

The salad was something else altogether. They had managed to somehow keep the lettuce and cherry tomatoes, with strands of red lettuce and carrots, sufficiently cold, even when I unconventionally ate the noodles first. I poured the thousand island dressing over the vegies and gave the salad a few good tosses, which I then enjoyed with a crunch.

I read a bit of "Catch 22" before dozing off to "Ocean's Twelve" which was playing on the small television screen just above and slightly in front of me.

Total cost: Included
Rating: aaaaa

http://www.united.com/

Sidebar: It is essential that one chooses meals correctly for airline flights, lest you be stuck with a disgusting meal sitting in your stomach for the rest of the flight. The golden rule to remember is that flight meals are cooked in the kitchen at the airport of departure. And depending on where you depart, the local cuisines - and thus, how good they are at cooking dishes - defers. So, assuming one does not have any dietary restrictions, the method is to choose dishes which correspond with the local cuisine of the kitchen the food is from.

For instance, in this flight, I chose the Chinese-style stir-fry over the western-style steak because the food was from the Hong Kong airport, and obviously, Hong Kong people cook Chinese food better. And say you take a Northwest flight from Seattle to Tokyo, you'd be better off going with the western dish instead of any Japanese dish (which was probably the worst sushi I tasted in my life).

One more thing: to prevent jet lag, drink lots of fluids on board, but not alcoholic beverages. Those tend to make the jet lag worse. (Of course, in this case, since the flight didn't cross any time zones, it didn't matter.)

Sheng Gai @ Sheung Wan, Hong Kong Island

Rainy day lunch

• 1½ Bowls of Beef Flank Noodles
• Bottle of Coke
• Bowl of Meatballs in soup (shared)
• Lettuce with Foo Yu (shared)

This meal was just so snugly. It was raining outside and I was half soaked when we entered the place. I was with my grandmas and my aunt and uncle, and we were planning to go up the peak (see Hong Kong Excursion Blog) in the afternoon, after having lunch at this crowded establishment smack in the middle of downtown Hong Kong Island.

We weaved our way though the maze of narrow sidestreets to find this place located on the jagged corner of a fork in the road. It reminded me of Times Square in New York, because the angle at which the two lanes met was rather narrow, except that the lanes themselves were much narrower - only passable by one car at a time - and there definitely weren't any bright lights, because the buildings were so closely situated. As implied, there wasn't much shop space. All the tables were huddled near each other with stools packed in between. It was so crowded that the five of us had to share a table with another group. I have to say their tables were really large. But at least we didn't have to wait, not like the last time I was here with my dad. It felt great to be inside, despite being squished from all sides; it was a warm fuzzy homey feeling, away from the drizzle and gray just beyond the tiled walls.

Each of us ordered a bowl of noodles and then, we got dishes for all of us to share. I got a bowl of their (relatively) famous beef flank noodles and a coke, and we got meatballs and a plate of vegetables for everyone. The noodles were your basic ones as in wanton noodle stalls, with a springy bite and a rubbery texture. My grandma passed me a piece of her radish, which came with her bowl of 'hor fun' with beef tendon, and it landed with a plunk into the soup. I also chopsticked a meatball in for the photo. However, instead of wantons, chunks of beef flank (its waist) which had been marinated in a thick herbal stock lingered on top of the strands of yellowish noodles, with their brown juices oozing out into the soup, slightly coloring it.

The chunks were reddish brown in color, not because they were raw - which would not have been possible, for the soup was piping hot - but because the beef was fresh. (You can usually tell beef's freshness by its color: a rainbowy oily glint indicates the freshest, red all over indicates fresh, and darker shades of brown mean that the beef has been slaughtered for quite some time.) Layers of thin smooth skin-like tissue clung onto each chunk, attached by an even thinner sticky mass of fat to the shards of solid meat, which also clung together naturally, breaking up only as I bit into the piece. The shards of beef broke up relaxingly, and a burst of the freshly sweet pungent flavor of beef released itself onto my tongue. I let the meat slide around before swallowing, to get a more fulfilling taste. I didn't really care that some of the strands got stuck between my molars; all I could think of then was the food.

My bowl of noodles was slurped up fast enough. It was a welcoming feeling, as the hot food dropped down into my abdomen, warming up my body right up to the skin, which was still touching the half-dry tshirt I had on. It wasn't enough; and this was so too for my uncle. So we decided to order one more bowl to share between the two of us. And as soon as it arrived, I devoured it just as quickly.

I took a long sip of the coke from the bottle, after having finished a very comfortable meal indeed. It was bubbly and was more gaseous than liquid. Nothing to lift your spirit up than a good hearty lunch in the middle of Hong Kong.

Total cost: HK$18 (noodles) + 5 (coke) + 24 (meatballs) + 10 (vegetables)
Rating: aaaaa

Spaghetti House @ Off Nathan Road, Tsim Sha Tsui

Early Dinner Set Meal

• Spaghetti Bolognese
• Macaroni Ham Salad
• Nai Cha

There are two types of pasta dishes in this world. The first type is where the sauce is "infused" with the pasta by frying the sauce and three-quarters cooked pasta together in a pan before serving. The second variation (which I like to term the Mafia style, because it reminds me of how the American-Italians made their version of pasta) is the slacker version, whereby sauce is poured over a bed of cooked pasta. This spaghetti bolognese was the latter kind; although I think almost all spaghetti bolognese fall under this category.

Spaghetti House is a popular chain of restaurants in Hong Kong which have been around since forever - or close to that. It was there when I was born (according to my mom); it was there when I moved away; it's still here now. We got there early, because we'd been walking all afternoon around Tsim Sha Tsui and were quite famished by then. So we took advantage of their early set dinners, which were from 5pm to 7pm; and you had to get the check by 8pm or so.

I ordered the spaghetti bolognese, not because I liked it, but because it was the first item on the menu, and all the other items where rather complicated and I couldn't really make out what they were exactly. In fact, now that I think about it, I don't actually like spaghetti bolognese very much to begin with.

The problem with spaghetti bolognese is that you have to eat it fast, while it's hot. If you don't, the sauce "leaches". What do I mean by "leach"? If you imagine the sauce as a solution, comprising of a solute and solvent, "leaching" is when the solvent from the sauce separates itself from the solute. For some odd reason, spaghetti bolognese is very prone to "leaching" - it probably has something to do with the bits of meat in the sauce. This is made worse by the bed of pasta below the sauce. Left on its own for too long, the water (solvent) inside the sauce drains out and drips down through the bed of pasta to the bottom of the plate, while the less fluid tomato paste and ground beef remains on top, held up by the bed of pasta. When this happens, the entire thing becomes really disgusting to eat. The beef becomes rough and dry, the tomato sauce becomes cakey, and the pasta becomes soggy from soaking in the solvent below. And it's almost impossible to mix the sauce back together again.

But I decided it was worth a try - at least here.

The salad arrived first. It was actually a very simple salad, made with macaroni and chunks of apple, celery and cucumber, tossed in miracle whip, garnished with an elegantly cut piece of ham rolled into a cylinder holding a splotch of roe in the middle and half a strawberry on the side. It was served in a rather small goblet-like cup, so it was a bit tedious to eat, but it tasted quite okay - a refreshing start to the meal.

My entrée took quite a while to come, but that didn't really bother me much as it did them (and when I say them, I mean the restaurant people), because they were the ones forcing us to leave by a certain time, and my hunger had been somewhat satiated by the salad and 'nai cha'. As you can see, it was a typical plate of spaghetti bolognese. Nothing special.

I removed the piece of parsley, stuck my fork into the middle and started to twirl. As expected, the sauce, with its generous bits of beef, refused to stick to the strands of noodle. So, I proceeded to use both spoon and fork and lifted the spaghetti slightly off the plate, mixing the two elements thoroughly, as if tossing a salad. It had to be done.

It was much better after that. Not only did it taste better and prevent "leaching" (or at least delay it), but the problem of having too much sauce or plain noodle left over after disproportionately eating one or the other was solved as well. And although I haven't had many spaghetti bolognese in my lifetime, for reasons stated above, I must say that this has to be the best plate of the stuff I've had yet.

Total cost: around HK$45 to 50 (I just can't remember exactly)
Rating: aaaaa

http://www.spaghettihouse.com/

Snack Stall @ Off Nathan Road, Tsim Sha Tsui

Afternoon Snack

• Stick of Fishballs (6)

Thanks goes to my aunt who volunteered to hold the stick of fishballs while I took the photo, though sadly, this is the least out of focus one there was.

These fishballs on a stick are yet another irresistible delight proudly brought to you by Hong Kong. They can be bought at any of the numerous street-side stalls selling snacks (including 7 Elevens), or the illicit pushcarts, which are not as numerous, that sometimes roam the streets. They come in two flavors - spicy (from adding satay sauce) and not spicy - and are usually sold with a variety of other foods on a stick, including 'siew mai', cuttlefish dyed orange, and sausage slices coated in red skin, just to name a few. Equilibrium price for one stick is around HK$5, with snacks at pushcart stalls going for less, and stalls at the more busy corners of streets going for more.

These snacks are especially great during the winter, when you're walking through the streets in your coat or jacket, when you can see the mist of your breath as you exhale, when the temperature is cold and the wind icier, and when all you want is a piping hot stick of something to munch on. All snacks usually go well with sugar cane juice, also available and freshly made at most said snack stalls - hot sugar cane juice during the winter, iced in the summer.

It didn't matter that it was the middle of summer - these snacks are still irresistible. I got a stick of 6 fishballs, not spicy, covered in a dash of soy sauce. You can't rush eating fishballs like these - you have to enjoy each and every one of them. I timidly gnawed at the first fishball, lightly making contact with my front teeth, just to test whether the temperature would be all right to endure, or whether I had to wait just a little while more for it to cool down.

Hong Kong fishballs are unique. They are not springy and rubbery like the ones in Singapore; they are not rough with coarse fillings like those of Thailand and Vietnam; and they are not meaty with fish scales like some types from certain parts of China. Below the yellow exterior is a firm yet chewy filling. There is no separation of interior and exterior, the entire fishball is one dense ball of fish meat, starch and (perhaps some) seasoning. The yellow outlook is merely due to the frying that occurred in oil which stained it yellow.

Munching through one takes both time and concentration, if you are to truly experience its flavor in its entirety. There's a tinge of saltiness from the soy sauce, but that quickly fades and gives way to a more subtle and genuine fishy taste. Swallowing one just makes you want to move on to the next. And then to the next. The first is always the most enjoyable; and the last always the most memorable.

Total cost: HK$5
Rating: aaaaa

Federal Palace @ Maritime Square, Tsing Yi

Yum Cha (~Drink Tea)

• Cha Siew Cherng (Rice Roll)
• Wuo Tie (Fried Dumplings)
• Sheng Zien Bao (Pan-fried meat bun?)
• Steamed Tripe
• Soy Sauce Chicken Feet
• Radish Cake in XO Sauce
• Fried Cherng Fun
• Ha Gao (Shrimp Dumplings)
• Siew Mai
• Tofu Skin Rolls
• Wet Fried Noodles with Black Pepper Squid
• Fried Rice with Chicken Bits and Salted Fish
• Po Lei Tea

It was crowded, but that much was expected. And this wasn't the only 'cha lou' (tea parlor) in this shopping center. So even after taking a queue number, which I did since I was the first one on the scene, we still had to wait a while. We were subsequently lead through a maze of tables to one near the ceiling-high windows (just out of lens range to the left in the photo), overlooking the strip of water between Tsing Yi Island and Tsun Wan. The round table was covered in a thick white cloth - alas, not large enough to warrant a turntable on top.

We ordered a whole host of dim sum for lunch. As we waited, I quickly produced my camera and took a picture of the entire place and its unsuspecting patrons. We did the ritualistic washing of all the crockery on the table. I tried to chat with my extended family, with whom this was my second time coming here, but the din of the entire place impaired any form of speech. That's what so lovely about 'yum cha' in Hong Kong, the atmosphere is so full of life and vibrancy. Perhaps "din" is an inappropriate word, since it conveys a negative air of unwantedness when it comes to noise. But then again, I can't really think of any other word that gives a positive light to noise. And besides, loud speech in 'cha lous' is self-perpetuating, in that the louder everyone speaks, the louder you have to speak to be heard, thereby contributing to the overall volume of the place. How aptly ironic.

There's so much to say about the food; in fact, there's too much to say. The dim sum was great, as is expected of any 'cha lou' that can sustain itself in such a highly competitive market - and Federal is a chain of restaurants. I liked the tripe the most. (For those who don't know or suspect so, yes, tripe is a cow's stomach.) It was steamed in its juices with spices which I have no inkling of, and garnished with parsley and shreds of carrot. The juices caught in between the ridges on the strips of tripe gave it enough taste; and the texture's chewiness made it all the more enjoyable. The Siew Mai was great as well, warm and fragrant on the inside and larger than anything you'd get elsewhere (about the size of a golf ball, but taller and not round).

What I like most about dim sum is that (almost) everything is steamed. Nothing's too heavy and most of the stuff is rather healthy. And the small portions of each batch means that you can sample all sorts of bite-sized portions. This is especially so when eating in large groups, because there is a larger variety of dishes to share. As its name suggests, it really does "touch the heart".

Total cost: HK$309 (for table of 7)
Rating: aaaaa

http://www.fedresthk.com/

Some Stall @ Ma On Shan Market

Afternoon Snack

• Cherng Fun with everything (hold the chili)

This is a classic Hong Kong delicacy at it's best. 'Cherng fun' can be bought at any market. And its flavor never ceases to amaze me. The last time I was in Hong Kong (in January this year), I was staying at my Grandma's place, which was a government housing estate, which meant there was a market nearby, so I had 'cherng fun' almost every morning for breakfast. This time, I wasn't so lucky, and my aunt put me up instead, which is still nice, because her place has a gym and all, and I love spending time with my cousin, but it's nowhere near a market. Surprisingly, this was the first time I ate this since coming back.

'Cherng fun' directly translated means "sausage noodle", referring to the sausage-shaped chunks of rolled up rice noodle sheets, steamed to perfection. Good Hong Kong market-style 'cherng fun' is made with a fair amount of oil, so that the interlocking layers of noodle don't stick to each other and become soft and sticky, like 'nian gao'. Instead, biting into good 'cherng fun' is akin to biting into a sausage, except less rubbery - you can't detect the layers at all, but not to the point of the mouthful becoming one sticky mass of rice noodle. It certainly won't stick to the roof of your mouth. (This 'cherng fun' from Hong Kong markets is different from the type you get in restaurants, in that there's nothing inside and the rice noodle isn't as sliky soft.)

On its own, they have no taste, save for the slight aroma of the vegetable oil used to make them. Add a spoonful of sweet sauce, a splash of soy sauce, a helping of peanut gravy and a dash of sesame seeds, and you get a fragrantly flavor like no other. It's a great overflow of taste that reaches the tongue - the zest of the soy sauce and sweet sauce with the seasoned character of the peanut oils and sesame. It's a taste one can never really tire of, yet to long for it would be but a waste of the imagination.

Total cost: HK$5
Rating: aaaaa

Sidebar: Yes, I know it's been a while since my last post; and I do apologize. And yes, I know I'm only slacking at home, with not much else to do, so I should have had plenty of time to blog. But hey, bumming around is a very tiring job - definitely not as easy as it looks. So I took some time off.

Yeah... I know, slacking off even while bumming around - the signs of a true slacker. Hey, at least I'm good at what I do.