THISPAGEANDOPPOSITE:
COURTESYFOURSEASONSHOTELHONGKONG
inanyway.Onthecabrideover, lurching
throughmiddayHongKongtra c, talk
turnstoanItalianplacecalled81/2Otto
EMezzoBombana,whereI’mheadingthat
evening.Afterall I’veheardabout it, Ican’t
helpbutwonderhowauthenticanItalian
restaurant inHongKongcouldreallybe.
Abergelassuresmethatthechef,Umberto
Bombana, istherealdeal: “He looks like
SantaClaus,andhis food isgreat.”
Abergel’s lastpickof theday isasortof
fish-and-chipsspotcalledFish&Chick,
withrotisseriedchickenstealingthespot-
light. It’sacharmingplace,with friendly
girlsbehindthecounterandaground-level
viewofVictoriaHarbour.Thechicken
smellsdelicious,butIsettle foradraft
Tsingtao—IfigureI’llmakemywayback
hereatsomepoint,andIstillhaveanItal-
iandinnerto face. (Idoeventuallyreturn,
and itdoesn’tdisappoint:Thechicken is
crispyand juicy, thanks inparttobutter
slippedundertheskinbefore itwascooked,
andthechipswillmakeyouhomesick for
your favorite frites joint.)
SEVERALHOURSLATER
, Iheadto
Bombana’splace.Whilehiseponymous
eatery(the“81/2” isanodtoFellini’s1963
filmofthesamename)residesonanupper
flooroftheritzyAlexandraHouseshop-
pingmall, there isnothingmallishabout
it.Thecontemporarymoderndecor ischic
and inviting,withwoodaccentsandsoft
lightingthatcreatesawarm,vaguelymon-
eyedambiance.AsBombana invitesmeto
atable intheback, Ican’thelpbutnotice
thathe livesuptohiswhite-beardedbilling.
Onmywaytotherestaurant, Ihadstopped
topickupadozensweet-yet-tart-and-juicy
mangosteens—myall-time favorite fruit
anddi culttofindoutsideofAsia.After
shakinghands, Iwhipoutoneofmyugly-
skinned fruitsandoer ittoBombana.He
happilyacceptsandeats itonthespot.
Clearly,he isamanofgoodtaste,and
whenheoersmeaplateofseafoodpasta,
Ican’tsayno.Asbreadandaglassof
Italianchardonnayaresetout, Iwonder
howaworld-classchef fromItalyman-
agestosnagthreeMichelinstars inHong
Kong. “Peoplewantthe foodheretobe
authentic—theydemandasmuch—even
though ingredientscome fromalloverthe
world,”heexplains, tickingoan interna-
tionalshopping list. “My food isItalian in
conceptbutglobal in fact.Wespendmoney
on ingredients,andourfinishedseafood
dishestaste liketheMediterranean.”
Whenthewaiterbringsoutabowlof
homemadecavatelli, swirledup ina light
tomato-basedsauce loadedwith lobster,
crabandurchin, Itastetheseaand feel
transported. If the ingredientscame
fromeverywherebutItaly,fine. I’mnot
complaining.
JUSTBEFORELEAVING
theUnited
States forHongKong, Iheardaboutadim
sumrestaurantcalledTimHoWan,which
ranksasthe least-expensiveMichelin-
starredoperation inthecity.WhenImen-
tion ittochefTak,backattheFourSeasons,
hiseyes lightup.RestaurantownerMak
KwaiPuiwasonceTak’sright-handman.
HeknowsallaboutPuiandclearlyre-
spectswhathe isdoing, soIdecidethiswill
bemynextstop.More importantly, though,
Puiwillbemynexttourguide.
UponenteringTimHoWan, inthecen-
terofahectic,working-classneighborhood,
thefirstthingInotice is
that it’sthepolaroppositeof
awhite-tablecloth joint like
TheChairman. In fact, it
hasa locals-onlyvibe,with
themenuall inChinese,
abustlingwaitstaandcacophony for
days.ThesecondthingInotice isthatnear
thewindow,acorpsofdimsummakers
fold, spindleand lovinglymanipulatethin
sheetsofricedough into little foodpackets
loadedwithflavor.Clearly, it’sthe foodthat
earnedthestar.
AsmuchasPui lovesdimsum,evenhe
can’tsurviveon it24/7, soheoerstotake
metoacoupleofhis favoriteneighbor-
hoodspots.Firstup isKwanKeeBamboo
Noodles. It’sasmallbutcomfortable
placethatprovidesagoodcounterpoint
toAbergel’stopnoodlespot.Herethe
noodlesaremade fromwontondough,
hand-pulledbyacoupleofguys inorange
poloshirtsatthe frontof therestaurant.
Thenoodleshaveasatisfyingchewinessto
them,braisedbeefenrichesthebroth,and
asprinklingofpork/prawnwontons,well,
they’reprettymuchthebomb.
WhatamazesPui—andwhatmakes
thishisgo-tonoodlehouse— istheway
everythingworkstogether. “Youhave
torealizethateachelementhas itsown
cookingtime,”hesays. “Yet,nothing is
overcookedorundercooked.That’stough
topullo.Theystartwiththenoodlesa
littlecrispysothattheydon’tgetsoggy.
Thenthewontonsneedtobetied justright.
Tootightandtheydon’topen; too loose
andyouhaveamessof ingredientsallover
theplace.”Whileeatingthestu, it’seasy
totakeall this forgranted,but,aswith
mosttrickythingsmadeto lookeasy, that’s
thepoint.
Wefinishupwithastroll toKamWah
Cafe,whichneedsno introduction from
Pui.Thesweetsmellofbakinggoods
assaultsmysensesassoonasIenterthe
bowling-lane-shapedrestaurant, illu-
minatedwithfluorescent lightandabit
riotousonthenoisescale.Butnobody’s
inhere forquietchattingoraflattering
photo—noteventheyoungwomanbehind
me,munchingahunkof friedchickenand
smiling likecrazyasIsnapan iPhonepic.
AtPui’s insistence,weeschewthe
After all I’ve heard about it, I can’t
AUTUMN
AA.COM CELEBRATEDLIVING
72
