The culture of late night Hong Kong Dim Sum is a manifesting statement that appears to have developed throughout all of antiquity.
It is through the lens of these ambrosial dumplings situated on bamboo steamers at uncommon hours where whole new worlds are cracked and observed from the depths of the concrete canyons of Hong Kong.
It was 3 am in Hong Kong and my metaphysical instinct drew me to naturally dwell upon one thing only; Dim Sum. To my satisfaction there was an established restaurant on the bottom floor of my place of rest.
Here are my 5 empirical conclusions:
The most stochastic arrangement of men will make an appearance; groomed and gruffed, chunky and scrawny, athletic and disabled will begin to trickle into the dim summery starting at about 1 or 2 am for the great edible equalizer.
One posse of highly experienced men seemed to perfunctorily wake up from a deep sleep to pursue the unworldly flavors of dim sum.
After ingesting, they sat back, sloppily dragged on cigarettes and pulled pants to mid calf. From habitual practice, they didn’t even bother to chat with one another but rather sat in silence, toking on tobacco and introspecting.
Another bed-headed straggler stumbled in sporting the most peculiar of all pajamas with a Shiatsu that resembled himself on a leash trailing him.
I made the assumption that steamed scents had seeped through his window cracks on the floors above to stimulate his unconscious slumber.
Another solo man was in a full orange jumpsuit as if he had escaped prison (on second thought, he was a garbage man) with the sole intention of seeking a meaty treat.
The days when steamed dim sum was push carted from table to table traditionally in Hong Kong have for the most part been eradicated. Hints of the evolution of dim sum serving can be explained by the very city itself.
Concrete drab stacked buildings quite resemble bamboo steamers piled onto communal tables, longingly waiting to be pawned off to the hungry consumers.
Pointing out the right edible decision can be intimidating.
People will probably be yelling and impatient. The underlying proverb when choosing dim sum is: If it looks good, it is (period).
That being said, I can assist in directing your index finger with a number of mouth stunners that I cannot get enough of:
- lou mai gai– mochi (sticky rice) rice with chicken and sausage, wrapped in a green lotus leaf
- har gau– shrimp dumpling
- char siu bau– barbecue pork steamed roll
- wu gok– deep fried mushed taro and pork dumpling
- fu pei guen– seasoned pork wrapped in a bean curd wrapping
4. How To Pay
In order seek the final bill and tally of the total amount of dishes consumed one has to awaken the cashier with repeated physical (almost abusive) shakes. The waitress will shout something along the lines of “GET UPPPP,” (in Cantonese) to the cashier with zero avail.
He will move on to flicker his eyelids and realize that his index finger is still on the calculator and he will conveniently add your bill up, head still resting on the counter. You will stumble out of the restaurant thinking, “they need to hire a new cashier,” but then realizing how happy your belly is.
It can be said with certitude that the smells from Dim Sum will arouse the least voracious lovers of food.
If the smells work that kind of wonder it is a sure fact that the flavors induced by Hong Kong dim sum will be enough to wake any rational person from a deep sleep in order to get a heavenly flavor.