Its been a while. Its been a whirl.
I’m now an official resident of Hong Kong.
I’m in the food capital of China, the place where all the cuisines of the world come together in one big wonderful mess.
A Hong Kong kitchen is something very unlike what I’m used to back in blighty. For a start they’re small. In some cases very small. The kitchen I contended with during my first two months here was about the size of a cupboard. A gas hob and a sink contended for space. A microwave, toaster, kettle were stacked on top of each other, with tins of soup and boxes of teas clinging to them like sea birds on a cliff face. To make matters worse the drain refused to fully clear, even after two industrial sized bottles of drain cleaner, leaving the kitchen with a permanent stench like something had crawled into it and died. Luckily I’ve moved to bigger and better things. Two whole people can fit into my new kitchen and…. wait for it….. I even have an oven. A toaster oven the size of a shoe box with a broken seal that leaks heat, but an oven non the less.
So far thought the real beauty of life in Hong Kong lies in the culinary experiences that lie outside my own kitchen. Everything from high-end dining to backstreet noodle places ruled over by men in black welly boots with their t-shirts pulled up over their bellies. Hong Kong has it all!