airport at 3:14, 6 hours behind schedule, and getting absolutely no sleep on my 9 hour flight. After stepping off the plane at 9:30am, I collected my bags and called a taxi to take me to my hotel, the Harbour Grand. It's a bit pricey at $2,500AU a night, but being an extremely successful roller coaster designer and chocolate tester, its not exactly out of my budget. It combines modern architecture and traditional oriental design, and has a magnificent view of the harbor.
After depositing my belongings in my $2,500AU a night serviced suite (complete with maids and a pool), I made my way around Kowloon, one of t
he main urban areas in Hong Kong. Before I left Australia, one of my good comrades, professional spider-man impersonator and optometrist Kent C. Strait gave me a list of places I should visit. Filing through the list, one name stood out to me. Tim Ho Wan. I'd read about this peculiar little restaurant in The Age a few months ago. Founded by Mak Pui Gor, ex-head chef of the prestigious Four Seasons Hotel in Hong Kong, it quickly rose to fame in both the eyes of critics and the public.
It also happens to be the cheapest Michelin starred restaurant. Serving some of Hong Kong's best Dim Sum at unbelievably low prices, I couldn't pass this one up. As I walked around the corner and onto the street on which this curious little restaurant was located, I was instantly taken aback. The people were literally swarming around the place. Well, then and there I nearly gave up, discouraged by the crowd, but determined to enjoy the delicacies within, and the bragging rights which came with them, I pushed through the masses to the door, where I was confronted by a vicious looking Cantonese woman standing behind a desk. I approached her. She gazed at me with a look which could stop a panther dead in it's tracks, and handed me a ticket with the number '257' written on it. "Two hours" she barked. I edged back through the crowd, stunned. It was hard to believe I'd just made a booking at a Michelin starred restaurant. It felt more like dropping off a shirt at the dry-cleaners.
I had two hours before my appointment, so I decided to check out the nearby Ladies Market. The origins of it's name were not apparent, as it seemed remarkably similar to every other market I'd seen in Hong Kong. Stalls going up either side of a street, selling anything from walnuts to suspiciously cheap electric mixers. I somehow got conned into thinking I needed 14 spinning tops and a t-shirt saying 'Funny love people indeed will grant unobtainable favor'. Badly translated, or comic genius?
Finally after exploring some of the backstreets of Kowloon, and only just avoiding a group of German tourists asking advice in some kind of German-English-Asian hybrid language, I arrived back at the restaurant. The ticket lady was calling out for ticket number 249.
"249? 249?" She said, the annoyance in her voice becoming rapidly more noticeable. She finally gave up and moved on. "250?". Five minutes later my number was called, I presented my ticket and was granted entrance.
The interior design was less than impressive, but after all I'd heard about this place, I waited for the food to arrive to pass my judgment. After handing in a checklist telling them which dishes I would require and how many of each, my meal arrived about three minutes later in round bamboo baskets. I filled my cup with the traditional jasmine tea, which was complimentary. I opened up one of the baskets, and was greeted by a gush of steam and four small white round buns. BBQ pork buns, the house specialty. I attempted to pick up one of the tasty morsels with the chop sticks provided, before realizing it was not to be, and using the less impressive option, the humble fork. Screw the fork! We have fingers for a reason. I stuck my hand into the basket and retrieved from it one of the dainty buns.
It was so delicate. It smelled sweet, and I suspected the crumbly texture which covered the top was a sugar glaze. Well, here I was, about to take my first bite of Michelin starred food. My heart beat faster in anticipation. I brought it up to my mouth-
"More tea?" inquired one of the Cantonese waitresses, somewhat spoiling the moment.
"Umm, no thanks, I'm fine for now" I replied. She walked off, leaving me with my dim sum. Here we go. I bit into the bun. The bun itself was like a perfect biscuit, crispy and sweet. Inside the bun was the BBQ pork filling, made up of chunks of succulent, juicy pork, in a mouthwatering BBQ sauce. I finished it in about three bites, and then just sat there for a minute, flabbergasted at the sheer bliss of it all. I didn't want them to end, but I was unable to stop myself from consuming the entire basket. I yearned for more, but they do not allow more than four serves of BBQ pork bun per order. After that I tried some of the other types of Dim Sum available. Some of these included prawn dumplings, spring rolls, and chicken feet, which were not as unpleasant as I had expected. After eating enough to feed a small country for a month, I asked for the bill. The waiter promptly brought it. $208.5HK. About the same as $30AU.
Leaving Tim Ho Wan, I remember feeling a sense of peace, a feeling of one with the world. A feeling which can only be achieved by eating perfect food. Tim Ho wan serve perfect food at a great price. The ticket system means that the long waits are not that much of a problem and the experience is well worth the wait anyway. If you are a fan of Dim Sum, of Asian cuisine at all, or just enjoy waiting in long queues for large amounts of time, I cannot recommend this restaurant enough. Even if you have never tried Dim Sum (God forbid), this is the perfect way to acquaint yourself with some of the worlds most divine delicacies. My experience will never be forgotten, and if I ever return to Hong Kong, revisiting would be at the top of my to-do list.
10/10
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