Biting
splendidly succulent Teochew-style
dim sums covered with fragile white rice flour was like chewing a bubble gum
without its sweet flavor. I joyfully tasted
the soft dumpling wrapper and the crunchy peanuts crashed together with
rich-flavored pork and fresh lotus roots. The hot and mildly spicy juice of dim sum popped
into my mouth and slipped down my throat and warmed
my stomach. This steamy little ball-shape finger food brought a new
sensation developed from overcoming obsession, confusion, and unexpected
discovery.
During
summer break in 11th grade, my little brother, my parents, and I
traveled to my favorite city, Hong Kong. This was how I fantasized about the
city: the food heaven. Hong Kong action noir movies. Skyscrapers.
Fifteen thousand restaurants. Business center of Asia. Coexistence of Chinese
traditional culture and British colonialism. Tiny land crammed with people.
Shopaholics’ shrine! Each country magically has its own smell at street corners,
markets, buildings, restaurants, and hotels. Just everywhere. When we arrived,
the strong scent of Hong Kong ran into my face, and this smell was like the
comforting taste of warm and moist yellow custard.
Though my family was too tired from the late night flight, I
insisted we waste no time and find the dim sum restaurant called “Serenade” in
the Tsim Sha Tsui. I found this place by reading for one of the five Hong Kong
guidebooks for few days. The book says: “The top ten choices for the best
restaurants in Hong Kong: HK FOODS THAT YOU MUST EAT BEFORE YOU DIE”.
The first and only dim sums that I had eaten was from the food court in Korea
that I couldn’t find any trace of authenticity of each cultural food. These dim
sums were too sticky so that they stuck on my fingers. I tasted the watery and
slimy skin of dim sums that were like rotten oyster, and inside of them had dry
and dull-tasted grounded beef. After this horrible eating experience, I wouldn’t
want to taste them ever again. However, I changed my mind to give it another
shot after seeing the pictures of carefully crafted brightly colored goldfish
and hedgehog-shaped dim sums. My family was
frustrated with my selfish enthusiasm and told me that they would rather go to
bed because it was already 9 p.m. Since my family knew that my strong-headed
desire usually needed to be accomplished or I would complain to them during the
entire trip, they couldn’t go against my unreasonable and stubborn insistence. The
men in my family didn’t really have much power, so they restlessly accepted my
over-achieving obsession although my mom scolded me little bit. I drove my
family to tour right away as soon as they put away their luggage.
Hong Kong is indeed a city that never sleeps, so I believed
that for us to get a sense of what Hong Kong is like. Therefore, I needed to be
awake and try every new thing. I felt a heavy duty to
lead my family in having a wonderful time while hitting all the tourist and
famous places in the five Hong Kong guidebooks. Going through the street
vendors who sold eggette, gai daan jai, an egg custard waffle cooked over an open flame, my
mind was occupied with tasting the perfect steamed dim sum in Serenade. We overcame the hot night air
of June, sweat of pedestrians, and the eggette’s smell of sweet egg batter and
marched down the crowded avenue. It was the most crowded street I have ever
seen– with flashy red neon signs written in Chinese that brightened the night, the buzz of foreign languages, the endless noises, a combination of old grey and new buildings, and
oriental-style and western buildings all juxtaposed together. Almost no gap
between buildings in this crazy city jungle made me dizzy. The street was filled with drunken young people entering
the bars for the second round of their wild night, smoke floating into the
polluted Hong Kong air cigarettes from office workers, and street vendors trying
to get tourists’ attention to make them buy fake Prada bags and Omega
wrist watches. My family and I walked for one hour, but we still could not find
Serenade. I asked many natives for
directions, but most of them could not speak English, so they avoided me.
My mom asked me with an exhausted voice, “Hey, kid, do you want to
just go that restaurant?” She pointed to a restaurant that looked extremely
old, and had some disgusting fungi attached on the front door. I wanted to
resist, but I was so happy that there was actually a place to sit and eat, and
I felt sorry for my family who was sacrificed their comforts for my greed. We
were the only customers in the place, and there was only the
sound of ticking of brown striking clock standing next to the tapestry of two
giant tigers which scared me by their bulk eyes. The burning
smell of cheap Chinese incense permeated in the whole restaurant. I worried
about whether the food would be good and if there was dim sum. However, we
found dim sum on the menu! Since the menu was written only in Cantonese with
pictures of the foods, I pointed out Teochew-style dim sum
dumplings. Each member of my family ordered different kinds
of food for experimentation of unfamiliar food culture.
After
random wandering for 10 minutes, by chance, we arrived to the Kowloon Park.
I pulled out the precious and long-awaited take-out food boxes, once I sat down
on the grass. These foods were not exactly what I had in mind, since I couldn’t
order them by name, so I didn’t have high expectations for their taste.
However, as soon as I opened the boxes, my mouth watered because the colors of the foods contrasted like coral reefs: brown dried
pork strips over fresh bread, Pork floss
and Teochew-style dim sum
dumplings filled with sliced
garlics, peanuts, red peppers, white and soft tofu, pork, and translucent green lotus root and chives. My family and I dug in
chopsticks and spoons. While eating, we could see the lights of buildings reflected
in the bay and waved back and forth. The ferry came and left from different
harbors allowing tourists to take pictures of the night skyline of Hong Kong.
I ate the foods as slowly as I could to appreciate the
bright city night view and a hot summer breeze off the
bay. The foods awakened my taste buds. I had my bite for Bojaeban, a bowl of steamed rice served
with toppings of eels without fish bones. The mix of cilantros with lime and soybean
oil gave exotic tastes, and the skin of the eel was extremely soft like cotton
candy and savory because of its magical sauce. Chili crab - red chili juice flowing
over chubby white crab meat embedded in dry chilies – almost made me cry. This ultra-spicy
crab hurt my eyes by just looking at it. It was extremely spicy but addicting,
so I kept eating it. I drank a coconut juice smoothie, and coconut juice, fresh
fruit, rice ball (or called bubbles), and mango jelly soothed my burning tongue.
It was also refreshing to drink fruity juice and suck up and chew and glutinous
balls.
Eating with the Teochew-style dim sums, wonton noodle, shrimp dumplings wrapped with delicate
flour and soft noodle dipped into a heavily flavored chicken broth helped to
wash away my obsession for flawless trip and paid off long walk that I unexpectedly
learnt true shades of Hong Kong although it was harder and more challenging
than touring with a tour guide.
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