Kiss cuisine

I’m getting to be more and more of a food brat every day. Thing is, for me, it’s not just all the gourmet items … in fact, sometimes I scorn fancy-pants gourmet flashy dining. What I want is flavor. I want excitement. I want the whole world to explode in my mouth with fireworks. I want something so good it’s like a pleasant punch in the face complete with retro comic-book special effects like 1960s Batman. When I take a bite, I want the “Wa-pow”!

I was in Hong Kong over the weekend and truly looking forward to great dining experiences like I had the last time.  My best friend Stephanie Kienle and I had planned a long list of recommendations in sought-out establishments. Our list went from “high” to “low” to the “surprising.” While we had a marvelously indulgent weekend of girly shenanigans, I must say that food-wise, I was left baffled and confused and yet at the same time even more certain about what makes a good meal.

Our roundup was Che’s, Gold by Harlan Goldstein, Maxim’s at City Hall, Bloom, Peking Garden, French Window and Hutong. There was one common denominator that made all the difference from flashy to fantastic: simplicity. KISS (Keep It Simple, Stupid).

Ooh la lamb: The lamb ribs at Hutong are sensational. Crispy on the outside, juicy, tender on the inside, the ribs are served like bars of caramel on a wooden plank.

Being girls, there is always the compromise of wanting to go somewhere where we can dress up pretty. Hong Kong is full of beautiful establishments. Design and ambience are definitely not lacking in the city. Gold and French Window, I must say, were rather nice-looking places. Interior-wise, the sparkle was there … but we can’t eat interiors, can we? Harlan Goldstein was there, chatted us up as we waited for our other friend. I didn’t find him all too sincere and, well, I’m a bit wary of chefs who look a bit too calm during prime dinner service roaming around chatting up clients. I later learned that he took a hard fall not too long ago as most of his restos closed and this recently opened joint was his baby. My appetizer was truly outstanding — scallop carpaccio with a cold poached egg and truffle vinaigrette. I was very impressed. It was well balanced, simply presented, the creaminess of the egg offset by the sweetness of the raw shellfish and the tang and musk from the dressing. Again, these micro shiso leaves haunt me as they appeared again and truly made the dish. It was poignant. It made sense.

My main? A total flop. It sounded great on the board: “Pecorino risotto with purple asparagus spears, langoustine and summer truffles.” It arrived on my plate with such vulgarity. A mountain of overcooked risotto, dozens of asparagus spears sticking out like aberrations, too many langoustines and entirely covered in shaved truffle. Chinese truffle. No smell, no flavor … it could’ve been cardboard. The dish was pricey at HK$350 and seriously? I felt insulted. Poor langoustine, to die such an inglorious death and be buried under overcooked rice and faux truffles. Less is more. To put together too much of such precious ingredients like a mangled chow fun fried rice … it was just depressing.

French Window was pleasant, more for the company than anything. The food was much more refined and the menu well curated. I praise the effort in creativity but execution wise … some things, well, didn’t taste as good as they sounded. My langoustine carpaccio was pleasant but this creamy condiment they served it with masked its flavor. Sometimes just a little olive oil and some lemon zest will do.

Bloom? Just have a drink … they have amazing cocktails! Great New York loft ambience… their fries looked good.

Truly appetizing: Gold’s scallop carpaccio with a cold poached egg and truffle vinaigrette is pretty impressive.

Che’s was the revelation of the whole weekend. Located in Wan Chai, not far away from dubious dancing girly bars, including one named “New Makati,” it’s not your common tourist joint. No one spoke English except for the old general manager, who took time out to chat with us and attend personally to our needs. Ambience? Straightforward, pleasant, no attention to décor. We didn’t even have napkins! They plopped a box of tissues in front of us. The menu had rather unappetizing-sounding dishes: “Boiled pig’s lung” didn’t exactly scream scrumptious. We ordered somewhat safely, with a touch of adventure. Something so classic as hakaw, steamed shrimp dumpling, came out so perfectly. The dumpling wrapper was so thin and translucent you could see right through to the plump orange crustacean flesh. It was sexy and sheer, handcrafted with precision. All those folds distanced and aligned so poignantly. When we took a bite, no minced shrimp, it was a whole piece, tenderly giving way as you bit into delicate flavors. For all the avid dumpling eaters out there, you know what I mean when I say that lousy dumplings turn to mush and a true dumpling has a certain precious sound as wrapper gives way to filling and the prawn flesh rubs gently against your teeth.

Still at Che’s we ordered the crispy pork bun. Wow. Think of an oriental croissant, buttery and flaky, a little sweet and elastic … fill it with generous helpings of savory pork morsels in a rich barbecue sauce. Wow. The bun was soft and covered in a thin crisp sweet shell … crumbs, crumbs, crumbs everywhere as you furiously try to salvage tiny flecks of flavor running down your wrist. Wow. Go make the trek to Wan Chai only for this marvel. The next day when we ate at Maxim’s, although our food was tasty as we tried to settle our hung-over heads by inhaling the equivalent of our body mass in salted fish fried rice, lemon chicken, ribs in spicy vinaigrette, dumplings and xiao long bao. And even two days later, during another hangover moment at Peking Garden, the roast duck was superb but still … lingering in the back of my mind … there was always sweet nostalgia in the air longing for Che’s crispy pork bun.

There are, of course, places that are successful in marrying design and cuisine. Hutong was a last-minute dash before the airport. The industrial airy space was filled with antique-looking Chinese hand-carved wood furniture. Little “rooms” were constructed out of hanging doors and window frames. The contrast between old extravagant and new minimalist set against the most beautiful view of Hong Kong … spectacular. I’ve eaten here before and at night the lighting is gorgeous. Please, please, please go. The lamb ribs are sensational. Crispy on the outside, juicy, tender on the inside, served like bars of caramel on a wooden plank. The dipping sauce with ginger, the marination … it was just heavenly. No frou-frou, again just perfectly cooked and guess what? De-boned, no more useless gnawing, you can savor every bit. Order the salted fish fried rice with ginger. So simple, a few ingredients adorned such wonderful steamed rice, bits of crunchy saltiness with fresh grated ginger against a creamy steamed white rice. Try the Red Lantern — we had the chicken version. Battered bits of crispy fried chicken tossed in an impressive amount of dried Szechuan chilies. Again … fried chicken? Who doesn’t love fried chicken? KISS.

One of the perks of my job is I’m offered the best most of the time. But what constitutes the best is not the most expensive, the most rare or the most complicated … the best for me can be the simplest. The most authentic. The most humble. The most honest. I like food that is poignant and relevant. There is nothing on the plate that doesn’t need to be there. Every leaf, sauce and swirl has a meaning … I want to eat it all and leave no unnecessary garnish. I like to KISS.