Hong Kong's open kitchens

Street food is a vanishing way of life in Hongkong. Help yourself to history along with HP sauce when dining at one of the city’s few remaining daipaidongs (literally “big licence stall”). At one time, there were over 400 of these, plus countless others operating without permits. The licences are non-transferable, and so as the holders pass on, the numbers dwindle. Every year sees the disappearance of one to two daipaidongs and today, only 28 of these beloved traditional eateries  remain. Despite their no-frills appearance, these are not always the cheapest eating places, and the food can  be mediocre but at the same time, also brillant. Menus are limited and rarely written in English. Often, they are simply stuck on the wall alongside the cooking area. Most customers know the details by heart and order the same things day in and day out. Staff are famously brusque, although outside peak times they can be remarkably patient with foreigners who do not speak Chinese. For atmosphere, nothing rivals an authentic daipaidong, where the drama of the open kitchen was perfected long before today’s vogue for theatrical restaurants. Disposable plastic tablecloths and chopsticks are de rigeur. A toilet roll sits on the table in lieu of napkins. You sit on a hard stool and will soon find yourself befriended by one or two resident cats. Air-dried sausage hangs on wire racks and cartons of beer form a wall. Live seafood swims in polystyrene boxes and vegetables are stacked up in plastic colanders. There’s no music, just the clash of metal spatula on the wok, the rhythmic thump of cleavers and roaring gas. Flames leap like fireworks up the sides of the huge wok that is the centre of operations. Staff run to and fro, mandatory pen behind the ear. They shout out new orders and ferry piping hot dishes to impatient customers. Enticing flavours waft in your direction masking the smoke from your upwind neighbour’s cigarette. In case of need, you must resort to the nearest public toilet. Don’t expect to ring up and reserve a spot, and be prepared to share a table at busy times.  Most softdrinks are available, also beer.  Otherwise, it’s BYO. Sui Choi Wong Shamshuipo, corner of Shek Kip Mei Street and Fuk Wing Street, open 0600-0200 This is the most successful of the four remaining stalls in the area, where the city’s wholesale garment industry, electronics recycling and many brothels co-exist. By 0730, some 60 tables along Fuk Wing Street are packed. The owner has managed to incorporate two small restaurants into his realm. These make it comfortable for wet-weather dining, but otherwise, most patrons – building site workers and local residents of all ages – prefer to sit outside, especially in the summer when the streets cool off after dark. This is by no means a tourist area, but one staff member, Mr Cheng, speaks fluent English and pictures on the laminated menu simplify ordering. If you want to be near the action, try to find a seat close to the central wok station where everyone’s food is prepared. This cook is famous for his skill with deep-fried and pan-fried dishes. Select your own fresh seafood, bearing in mind that prices are per liang or Chinese ounce. Signature dishes include Deep-fried Octopus Cake; Deepfried Whitebait with Soy Sauce and Spiced Salt; and Deep-fried Beancurd Stuffed with Fish Intestines. Try the chicken feet, which are prepared in an unusual way, cooked in two stages, which make them unusually tender instead of crunchy and gelatinous. Fish intestines are “scrambled” with eggs in a shallow clay dish,“flying ghost” (doughstick) batter is poured on the top and boiling oil is spooned over the mixture until everything is thoroughly cooked. If the wok master is in the right frame of mind he sometimes deep fries the entire pot. Tak Fat Haiphong Road Market, Tsimshatsui, (which can also be accessed via Peking Road), open 0900 to 2200 Dining doesn’t get much more basic than at this eatery, one of the few survivors in an area that is overdue for a major facelift. Surroundings are dismal – rough cement floors under rickety tarpaulins. But everyone will tell you that Tak Fat serves the best beef balls in Hongkong. They come in two types: melt-in-your mouth or chewy. Secret ingredients include a little dried orange peel and fresh coriander. It takes 10 people to keep pace with the demand at busy times, serving beef balls, or beef offal simmered in rich broth, with or without noodles. There’s no extra charge for the nonstop repartee with regular customers who have been coming here for many years. Try the seasonal vegetables with stinky beancurd.

Shing Heung Yuen

Mei Lun Street (off Gough Street), Western District, Hong Kong, open 0800 to 1730 The food stall occupies virtually this entire tiny street at the foot of one of the last of the staircases constructed in the mid-19th-century for sedan chair carriers to transport wealthy patrons to and from the Mid-Levels. The steps and paving stones are probably the original granite slabs, and they look good for at least another century. At peak breakfast and lunchtime, four electric toasters work non-stop and it takes about eight people to keep customers fed. When I visit it’s close to the end of her day and Irene is happy to relax and chat while she cleans up and prepares for the next morning. She cooks over 50 variations on basic macaroni and noodles for those who want a hot, filling meal. But she recommends the crispy bun filled with pork chop, fried egg and sliced tomato. She is delighted when I comment on the high quality and delicious flavour of this sandwich with a difference. She willingly shares her secret – fresh bread delivered twice daily from one of Hong Kong’s best bakeries and only the best ingredients, including real butter, she shows me as she opens her refrigerator. Shing Heung Yuen serves local style coffee and tea, but Irene knows that I don’t like the taste and she know I like to watch as she prepares a glass of hot coca-cola the traditional way, squeezing every drop of juice out of the half lemon, with a specially shaped stick and smashing the ginger with the base of the coke bottle. “No need to stir it,” she says as she hands me the glass. Monday to Friday customers are mostly regulars who live or work nearby. But at weekends people come from as far away as Tsuen Wan and Kuntong, in search of a lifestyle that has all but disappeared. Yuk Yip Dessert Elgin Street, Central, open 0030 to 1230 Mandy Li says her great grandfather started this stall, which specializes in traditional Cantonese desserts served piping hot from big bubbling pots. There’s a choice -- red or green beans, with herbs or seaweed; coconut and sago; sesame soup; or my favourite, chewy tong ba la, glutinous rice dumplings served with crushed peanuts, shredded coconut and icing sugar. Shing Kee Western end of Stanley Street near the junction with Gutzlaff Street, open 1130 to 2200 Only five stalls remain in what claims to have been the first official daipaidong area. Shing Kee is right at the end. You will probably hear the stall before you see it as Mr Lam handles two woks simultaneously at busy times – a rare skill. The flames roar almost non-stop as he turns out beautifully presented platters of his famous fish dishes. The menu is extensive and includes such favourites as Hot and spicy beef or Peppercorn beef, Assorted offal, Beancurd in brown sauce, Chicken and black beans or with ginger sauce. The speciality is the Cheche chicken, prepared in a heated traditional cooking pot, where it continues to sizzle, making cheche noises as it is carried to your table. Most customers are Central workers, but this stall is relatively accustomed to serving foreigners and even has an English language menu. Wai Kee Juk Dim, 82 Stanley StreetHours, 6.30am-7.0pm This is something of a hybrid establishment as the daipaidong operator has long since been cooking in a tiny restaurant that accommodates only about 20 customers. Everyone else must perch on a stool at a street-side table or pay an extra 50 cents for a takeaway container. The speciality is the traditional Cantonese staple, Juk or Congee. Basic rice gruel is served Cantonese or northern style, with fish, salted egg, beef or other additions that are stirred into the mix along with salty roasted peanuts and fresh chopped green onion according to taste. The ideal accompaniment is a crisp deep-fried dough stick (ya tsao gwai – literally fried ghost) from the aquarium-like glass case or a slab of white radish cake.