- Home-cooking 家常菜
- Recipes 食谱
- Travel 旅行
- Email List
Hong Kong — I came to Hong Kong for a visa renewal and now the trip has been extended as I work on a new project. Our client, Alex, is a gourmand. He loves to eat and he knows his food and wine. Alex invited us to dinner at Gold where his friend Harlan Goldstein mans the helm and knows what Alex likes. It is becoming evident with each bite that I, too like what Alex likes. I hadn’t yet seen the menu and never did, so I had no idea what would follow.
First, the wine was amazing. I’m adding Luce 2001 Della Vite to my list of favorites. However, a little research tells me this wine is rare to find, so I’ll treasure this memory. It is everything I love in a red wine — deep blackberry bouquet that sinks into me before I taste it. I’m happy just swirling the wine and burying my nose into the glass. Drinking the Luce renders me spoiled and silent. I like my food to conquer me. How often does one surrender to their prey? Who is consuming who?
There’s nothing quite like a relationship between a chef and an eater. ‘I know what you’ll like‘ feeds ‘You know me, so surprise me‘. That kind of relationship leads to a gut-busting feast.
We start off with plate after plate of Jet Fresh Oysters. These weren’t tiny sweet oysters but the large fill-your-mouth kind.
The beef carpaccio dish married with burrata, porcinis, and foie gras is heaven on a plate. Heaven truly is here on earth.
I had just watched the Anthony Bourdain No Reservations El Bulli episode where he dines with Ferran Adrià for a final meal before the restaurant closes. One scene shows José Andrés and a local fisherman cooking fiery red prawns on the beach. I couldn’t believe there were prawns that red in existence until it showed up on my plate — in Hong Kong! The prawn heads filled with soupy, fatty, slurp-worthy juices transformed our table into a zealous sucking chorus. What drips from the shell breakage, lands in the pasta and nothing escapes the chance to pleasure me.
Obscene. Epic. Why were there other courses before the 35oz hunk of beef grilled crispy outside and butter-soft inside? Why was I wearing a form-fitted jersey knit dress unforgiving of massive dining consumption?! The last time I gorged myself unintentionally in this fashion was when I was at the mercy of chef Brian Reimer during a lunch at Maison Boulud.
After a meal like this, you might pass on dessert. Alex doesn’t pass. I’m free to make my own choices as well and I could have passed, but no. I don’t even eat just half as perhaps a lady in jersey knit clinging to her torso might. No. I eat the entire warm chocolate lava cake, both raspberries and the raspberry sorbet. I’m not one of those chicks who shares her dessert so you can imagine how happy I was that everyone had their own.
Alex thinks aloud and suggests a food tour tomorrow or lounging on his yacht. Lounging about in a bikini after eating this much doesn’t sound like a good idea. I packed my bikini, but next time I know to pack the muumuu, too.