Tung Po Seafood Restuarant

Tung Po sits on the second floor "dai pai dong" (food court) of the Java Road Food Centre. Java Road Food Centre is one of many multi-level food markets in Hong Kong that offer everything from meat and vegetables to herbs and spices for home use. And most of them have dai pai dong for instant food gratification. Robby is Tung Po's main man and runs nearly every aspect of Tung Po Seafood. He acts as official greeter, restaurant traffic cop, table coordinator and kitchen motivator, and always seems to have a wry smile on his face.

many happy Tung Po diners (photo by wm. christman)

At lunch however, Tung Po is closed. Eight or nine of the other food stalls in Java Road dai pai dong are open for lunch, and their customers spread out to use the communal tables in the Tung Po area. But at dinner time, Tung Po takes over nearly half of the floor with it's many large communal tables. If that sounds packed in, you're right, it is. But as with most food experiences in Hong Kong, it's all part of the deal. And sitting with other folks who are enjoying the food as much as you is an added, and educational, bonus.

Although flash-fried mantis shrimp were the focus of this dinner (they're a special order, not on the menu and we neglected to ask...), the squid balls cooked in their own ink over pasta were the true highlight. The formidable bowl of inky blackness with several large-ish and tender ground squid balls and nicely al-dente pasta was creamy and delicious. It's difficult to describe the squid ink taste - it's somewhere between a rich Alfredo and prawn butter sauce. It's both a taste delight and and visual one because if you smile in the middle of a mouthful (plenty of that while eating this...it's SO good), you look like an early 17th century Japanese lord with traditional blacked-out teeth.

much too much rice... (photo by wm. christman)

Since the plan was to have two dinners, we chose to eat lightly at Tung Po. To round out the meal, a rice dish that appeared to be "small" was ordered, and it ended up being an enormous bamboo steamer of rice cooked in an equally large te leaf with chicken, pork and mushrooms. It was a deliciously simple dish that was instantly warming and filling. And knowing that we'd be facing two more rice dishes this evening there was no desire to eat all of it in one sitting. We opted for the takeaway carton. You know, "for later".

Four Seasons Clay Pot Restaurant

OK, dinner number one was done. Waddling away from Tung Po required some thought on how to kill some time to spur digestion. Since Four Seasons is at one end of the infamous Temple Street Night Market, starting at the opposite end of the market seemed to be a good idea. Since there are 14+ blocks of merchandise (real and counterfeit), numerous fortune tellers ("Come in! I speak English!"), truly dreadful outdoor karaoke stalls, and other perverse distractions, the chance to make room for another dinner was looking good.

(photo by wm. christman)

Four Seasons Clay Pot Restaurant is on a parallel block just off of Temple Street and if you blink for a moment too long, you'll miss it. But once you see the bright yellow signs and shiny, heavy plastic sheets that suffice for an outer wall, you are in for, at the very least, an interesting meal. The yellow signs are really menus so you can decide while standing in line and during the later hours of the night there seems to always be a line. But because everyone shares tables, you won't be waiting for long. And while you wait, you can catch a bit of the earthy scents coming from a stewed offal stall just a few doors away. Most of the folks waiting in line for Four Seasons made these little bits of intestine and liver, eaten off a Styrofoam tray with toothpicks, their starter.

The inside of Four Seasons is very spartan - people are there to eat not dine. Like Lin Heung, there is constant motion - clay pots being slung around, wait staff running back and forth taking orders, people leaving and arriving. You can have tea if you wish (and you'll want to wash your utensils and cups in some of the tea first) but lots of folks choose to walk 100 yards away to buy bottled tea, soda or water. Ordering is easy. Choose the clay pot with your choice of meat(s) and you're done.

very, very hot clay pot (photo by wm. christman)

Your blindingly hot clay pot arrives and all that's left is to carefully remove the lid without burning yourself (the table's thin napkins are the best you'll get for this if you don't have anything else...), squirt some of the bottled soy sauce into the steaming rice then put the lid back on. You wait a minute or two to let it steam a bit more then remove the lid and dive in.

and then the top came off... (photo by wm. christman)

The rice is partly soft and partly crispy (around the edges and bottom of the pot) and the meats add their flavor to the party. The meats themselves, especially the chinese sausage, are tender and fragrant. At first glance, it looks like a small-ish amount of food but in the end, the whole bowl is simple, hearty, warming and very filling. It's more than enough fuel to keep you warm on your way back home on a chilly fall Hong Kong night. And for all that comfort? About $1.70US per bowl.

Epilogue

Food in Hong Kong is king. There is so much, the activity at most places is frenetic, and you can eat just about anything you crave for a very reasonable, if not downright cheap, price. It's the perfect city to kick off a truly amazing food tour.