Chapter 150 Lan Kwai Fong

With these words, he took a sip of tea and said with relish, "There is a sizable tea warehouse on the upper floor, storing Pu-erh aged for more than fifteen years. Regular patrons only drink this top-grade tea."

Curious, Zhuang Chen picked up the menu. It was still printed using traditional mimeograph paper. Even the toothpicks and chopsticks were encased in custom paper sleeves stamped with the address and telephone number, serving effectively as Luk Yu’s business card.

The dim sum menu, in particular, was changed every week, and certain items appeared only according to the changing seasons. Miss that week, and one might have to wait a month or a full seasonal cycle for it to come around again.

Both men were already well-fed, yet they picked up a piece of Daliang arrowhead leaf cake. Because of the seasonality of the raw material—arrowhead leaves—it was a limited-edition seasonal treat available strictly from May to August.

Fish maw, shrimp paste, and chicken were layered from bottom to side, steamed in a bamboo basket for ten minutes. Once the chicken and shrimp paste were cooked through, a rich crab roe sauce was drizzled over the top, followed by another ten seconds of steaming. It was one of the signature dishes: crab roe cotton chicken.

"Mr. Louis Cha loved having dinner here. Dishes like the boiled apricot lung soup, coral grain stir-fried shark's fin, Jinhua ham with sliced pigeon, Fengcheng pan-fried shrimp cakes, and crispy-skin sticky rice chicken- Cantonese style—these are favorites among regular customers, all prepared using traditional methods."

"I've had food critics visit and dismiss these as ordinary dishes, not the least bit breathtaking. In my view, the true rarity of Luk Yu's cuisine lies entirely in those four simple words: utterly unremarkable!"

"Eternal simplicity, absolute authenticity, unwavering standards, genuine ingredients, unchanged for a hundred years—that is what makes a classic."

"Especially for elderly folks well past sixty, this heritage is reflected not only in the furniture and decor preserved since the shop first opened, but also in the staff who have spent half their lives working here, the classic traditional handmade pastries, and the old friends who have come here for tea day in and day out for decades..."

Zhuang Chen nodded in agreement. The charm of a time-honored brand lay in its profound heritage, where even the most unassuming corner might conceal an untold story.

Seeming to recall something, the older man said with a touch of melancholy, "Thinking back, Mr. Cha often said I didn't know how to order Jiangnan cuisine, a point on which I completely agree. As for Jiangnan cuisine, I first encountered it decades ago at the Great Shanghai in Po Hing Lane, and later dined at Tin Heung Lau, which gave me only a slight understanding of Hangzhou food."

"Having grown up in Nanyang as a child, I could barely claim to understand Malaysian, Indonesian, and a portion of Indian cuisine. I also lived in Thailand for a time, where knowing Teochew helped immensely, and I painstakingly compared the Thai restaurants in Kowloon City one by one, gaining some modest insight. My knowledge of Lao, Cambodian, and Vietnamese cuisines, however, is just so-so."

"Therefore, I've come to a theory: without understanding a place's culture and lifestyle, one can strive for a superficial understanding, but one will never know more than the people native to the soil, because they are the ones who grew up eating it."

"When writing about food, the style should carry a sense of ease and relaxation, ideally with a touch of humor. I detest pedantic people writing food guides who manage to strip away all the sensuality inherent in food. It's utterly deplorable; they ought to be taken out and shot!"

"What left the deepest impression on me were the people of Shunde and the French. Both will constantly tell you what tastes good, how it is cooked, and how the flavors unfold in every detail. It sounds so mesmerizing that you wish you could be reborn in those places."

"What makes the people of Shunde better than the French is that, for all their boasting, they do not look down upon the cuisine of other places. The French are different; the moment the conversation turns to food and wine, their noses climb higher and higher. I once told a French friend that the wines from Italy's Tuscany region are also quite good."

"My French friend arched one eyebrow and said with peerless arrogance, 'Italy has wine too?'"

They chatted until dusk. Finding the older man somewhat tired, Zhuang Chen hurried him home, promising to get together often. Today had been a bountiful trip; not only had he met a idol of many years, but he had also gained a wealth of experience, especially the recommendations of several fine restaurants that he simply had to try.

The hour was still early, and the nightlife was just beginning. Zhuang Chen headed straight for the legendary Lan Kwai Fong to experience the mysterious charm of this consumer paradise.

Much of his impression of Hong Kong Island came from TVB dramas, particularly Lan Kwai Fong, which conjured images of bustling alleyways bathed in neon light, where handsome men and women gathered to revel to their hearts' content. The tree-lined paths on either side offered convenient access, and sitting by a bar window allowed one to intimately experience the intoxicating nightlife.

After getting out at a nearby parking lot, he walked to the unassuming L-shaped, cobblestone alley nestled between Wyndham Street and D'Aguilar Street in Central, a lane lined with Western restaurants, clubs, and bars.

The night was alluring and ambiguous amid the roaring traffic and towering skyscrapers. This sloping alleyway in the heart of the city was a place where lonely men and women sought amusement, ablaze with neon lights and abounding in lively commotion.

There were numerous foreigners, many of them tourists who had traveled thousands of miles to experience legendary Lan Kwai Fong. Walking and observing, he noticed that most of the bars retained a European aesthetic.

Passing an English pub named LADOLCEVITA97, he saw a sign advertising live performances on Thursdays and Thursdays and Saturdays, featuring saxophone playing, country music sing-alongs, and energetic dancing.

At the entrance of the bar stood two bunny girls, smiling brightly as they handed out flyers and fluently inviting guests from all directions in fluent English.

After taking a quick stroll around, he found that among the more than fifty bars and restaurants, very few had Chinese signboards. Dark decor, simple bars, narrow interiors, spotless tableware, unpretentious tables and chairs, and English signboards announcing drinks and desserts that were placed outside only as dusk fell...

None of the establishments were large, which made sense considering this was Central—the core central business district where space was worth its weight in gold and elites from all walks of life gathered. The competition was fierce, and people lived in a state of constant high pressure. After finishing work, they needed an outlet to release that stress, making Lan Kwai Fong the ultimate playground for catharsis.

Just past eight o'clock, white-collar workers emerged one after another from the towering skyscrapers, shedding their suit jackets, loosening their ties, casting off their disguises, and walking with devil-may-care strides from every direction toward this very spot...

Accepting a flyer handed to him, he was somewhat surprised: a cocktail cost only twenty or thirty dollars? A glass of vodka on the rocks was fifty, and the bar even provided complimentary snacks like peanuts and figs.

Catching a promotion, a bottle of Carlsberg beer was priced as low as fifteen dollars at its cheapest!

Zhuang Chen finally understood why business was so booming, though he had heard that when drinking at these bars, every round had to be paid for immediately, and tips were expected for the servers.

Soon, the outdoor seating was filled to capacity. The air was filled almost entirely with English and Cantonese as white-collar workers, battered by the corporate battlefield, sat in groups of two or three in front of the bars, venting their grievances to one another. Under the influence of a glass of beer, their anxiety was temporarily alleviated.

As the crowd swelled and chairs grew scarce, many foreigners simply sat directly on the street, not even bothering to lay down a piece of paper on the pavement. Holding their beers, relaxed and completely devoid of pretense.

Since he had made the trip, he certainly couldn't just stand on the street. He walked straight to the entrance of the most lavishly decorated bar: Ce La Vi, which must have been French.

Taking the elevator to the top floor of the building, he found an expansive three-story bar and restaurant offering a 360-degree panoramic view. Most astonishing of all was the small jacuzzi nestled right in the center of the rooftop open-air bar garden.

A server explained in somewhat halting Mandarin, "Ce La Vi is an abbreviation of the French phrase 'C'est La Vie', which translates to 'such is life'."

"We offer a variety of signature cocktails. Storm Cooler is our best-selling drink, blended with Grey Goose vodka, passion fruit, and raw licorice powder, exuding a rich tropical vibe..."

"Hong Kong Fog can grant you a healing, beautiful mood, blending vodka, apple juice, and lemon juice for an extraordinarily fresh and refreshing taste..."

"We also have a variety of craft beers; you're welcome to head to the bar and choose for yourself..."

Ordering a few signature drinks, Zhuang Chen looked around. The design style was inspired by a Southeast Asian tropical rainforest, an environment where one could easily let go and reveal their true self. The ceiling featured a giant green chandelier entwined with various tropical plants, paired with wooden walls and wooden furniture. Returning to the primitive amidst such modern skyscrapers created a striking and fascinating dramatic contrast.