A snapshot of Hong Kong’s bipolar food culture

by Grant Martin on

More than any other city in Southeast Asia, Hong Kong is a city of contrasts. Traditional Cantonese culture pushes hard against the raging, modern scene, strong scents of the recent British rule are encroached upon by the dominant, Chinese presence, people eat dim sum, seafood, sushi, Mexican, Burger King.

In no place is this contrast more obvious than in the gastronomic scene. Cracking open the Superfuture guide to the city is like opening a Pandora’s box of food delight, with rooftop bars, five star restaurants and haute cuisine leaping forth from every page of the document. Restaurants like The Pawn Shop dish up a dizzying array of delicious western and local food in a setting that’s worth the visit alone, while bars like Wooloomooloo offer a solid steak to accompany a heart-stopping view over Hong Kong Island.

Flip to the other side of the coin and one can find the same spectrum of food in a gritty, salacious setting. Steps from the night markets near Nathan Road, a tented, corner hovel houses two dozen tables circled by a smattering of dirty, uneven chairs. The bathroom, a hole behind a curtain in the back room, is separated from the kitchen by a grease covered piece of corrugated sheet metal and as you pull at the legs on your fresh pepper crab the cockroaches scurry under the corroded circuit breakers next to your table.In the open streets, late night food is a part of the everyday culture, folding tables set up on the streets where efficient, curt waitresses drop off a bucket of dumplings and Stella girls take your order for 22’s of light beer.

Without a doubt, the food and drink is good in either setting. Produce is clean, seafood is beyond fresh and the Chinese have perfected the art of professional eating. In Hong Kong we simply find that the spectrum of options is wider than that in other cities in the far east; in one setting, the true, high end gastronomic can eat foie gras and caviar until the sun comes up, while in another the budget traveler can eat street food and dollar dim sum until his belly fill with happiness.

One should expect nothing less in the spectacular kaleidoscope that we call Hong Kong. Pick up the Lonely Planet World Food Guide (and maybe a roll of Tums) to get your adventure started.

How to tell a true dive bar from a fake

by Katie Hammel on
The term “dive bar” gets bandied about a little too often. Here in Chicago and in other big cities around the world, many bars that bills themselves as “dives” are really just hipster bars pretending to be dives (First clue: a real dive bar never calls itself a dive). Like a $75 trucker hat, it screams “Hey, look at me! I’m so unpretentious. Just one of the ‘regular old folks.” Don’t be fooled by these cheap imitations. At a real dive bar, no one cares who made your jeans, what your favorite Wilco song is, or if they can get your number. Here are a few other ways to tell the difference.

In a real dive bar:

one of the following things is on the “menu”: hard-boiled eggs, Jeppson’s Malort (a kind of Swedish Schnapps made in Chicago, it’s made with alcohol and wormwood), or shoestring potatoes (unshelled peanuts will also do). A real dive bar isn’t going to mess around with a bunch of different dishes. It does one thing and it does it well. If if it does offer food, it’s generally of the deep-fried variety. If if doesn’t offer food, you can order in.

cash is the only way to pay. Put your cash on the bar when you walk in. Tip well after every drink and somehow the bartender will make your meager pile of bills last as long as you want it to. Just leave any remaining cash when you go and you’ll always be welcome back.there is a screen door, or a secret buzzer gets you access. Dive bars don’t bother with AC, they just open the door and let the summer breeze inside. “Hidden” speakeasy bars may be trendy now, but secret dives have existed for decades. Regulars don’t want their favorite haunt taken over by hipsters, so staying under the radar is necessary.

there is an Old Style sign or some other large plastic/neon beer sign outside. Real dive bars advertise their best asset – beer – front and center.

whenever someone enters, practically the whole bar says hello. A true dive earns faithful regulars. It’s a place to drink and a place to meet up with longtime friends. If the bar is filled with strangers standing in groups, or worse, singles looking to mingle, you’ve walked into a faux dive.

Bonus points if the bar has a resident cat or dog known to all the regulars, or if the name of the person tending bar is the same as the name of the bar itself.

A real dive bar does not:

offer free wi-fi. If anyone inside is working on a laptop, turn tail and run. It’s not a real dive bar.

employ bartenders under the age of 40 years old. Especially heavily tattooed under-40 male bartenders who wear eyeliner. If the bartender, or the majority of the patrons, are wearing skinny jeans or look like they’re members of Fall Out Boy, it is most definitely not a true dive bar.

have a photo booth, especially a “vintage” one that charges $4 for pictures. The only acceptable forms of entertainment in a dive bar are tv (never flat screen), darts, and pool. Okay, and maybe a vintage table-top Ms. Pac-Man.

have a website. A real dive doesn’t have a website, hell it might not even have a phone. And it has no need for one.

have a digital jukebox. Especially one stocked with indie rock. A real dive’s jukebox will be the old-fashioned kind, complete with an un-ironic selection of Johnny Cash and Patsy Cline, or whatever music was popular at the time it opened (a real dive doesn’t care to update it’s selection).

And the surefire way to tell that what you have walked into is in no way a real dive bar: it has a martini menu.

What’s in a dive bar? More than your guidebook is telling you

by Grant Martin on

Dive bars have a special place in this traveler’s heart. They’re places where sullen, engaging, vociferous and colorful locals get together, down a few pints and tell the real story of a destination. They’re the corner bar in the middle-class neighborhood south of Stockholm, the late night dive hidden down an alley in a pocket of the Barri Gotic in Barcelona and the smoky joint with board games and the 78 year old bartender off of the Addison corridor in Chicago.

They haven’t always got the the newest digs, hottest style or top spot in Time Out’s regional guide, but the story that they tell is cleaner and more visceral than all of those vapid places combined. It’s the story of being a local in a place not unlike home, of lives reeling in motion, working, commuting, loving and drinking in an orbit just removed from our own.

Today at Gadling we’ll be featuring our favorite dive bars and dive bar stories from around the world, from Aaron Hotfelder’s profile of the BEST DIVE BAR IN THE MIDWEST (coming next!) to Melanie Nayer’s own interview with Guy Fieri from the hit show on the Food Network Diners, Drive-ins and Dives. Stick around, get comfortable and lets work off our weekend hangovers together.

How to say “cheers” in 10 different languages

by Katie Hammel on

Cheers! Bottoms up! To your heath! This New Year’s Eve, whether you’ll be clinking classes in another country or just want to impress your friends, bring a little international flair to your New Year’s party by toasting at midnight in languages from around the world. Here’s how to say “cheers” in 10 different languages.

Czech – Na zdravi!
Dutch – Proost!
French – A votre sante!
Gaelic Irish – Sláinte!
German – Prost!
Italian – Salute! or Cin cin!
Japanese – Campai!
Polish – Na zdrowie!
Portuguese – Saude!
Spanish – Salud! or Salut!

Four ways to throw an international New Year’s Eve party

by Katie Hammel on

After years of the same old New Year’s Eve parties, singing Auld Lang Syne, counting down at midnight and kissing as the clock strikes 12, it may be time to shake things up a bit. With some creativity, you can host an international-themed New Year’s Eve party that incorporates traditions from around the world. Here are a few ideas.

Say cheers
As you clink champagne flutes with your guests at midnight, try saying cheers in another language. Offer a “cin cin” or “a votre sante” as a toast to the New Year.

Food and drink
Branch out from the typical offerings and add some international flare to your food and beverage service. Incorporate drinks, wines or beers from around the world and serve some traditional foods from other countries. If you hang with an international crowd, ask each person to bring a food or drink from their home country.

Count it down
If you live in the US, it may be harder to pull this off, but depending on the hours of your party, you can start the night by counting down each time another timezone passes the midnight mark. If you chose a different country, countdown in the local language and toast with a native drink. Help everyone keep track of the countdowns by hanging clocks around the party space, setting them to the time in another location, and labeling them with the name of the country of city they represent.
Celebrate cultural traditions from around the world
Every country seems to have its own special way of celebrating the passing of the old year and the welcoming of the new. In Germany and Scandinavia, Herring is served on New Year’s Eve while in Denmark, people eat marzipan cake for dessert. In Greece, it’s customary to eat Vasilopita, a cake baked with a coin inside. The person who bites into the coin will have good fortune for the next year. In Mexico, Spain and Portugal, people eat 12 grapes as the clock chimes 12 times at midnight. Each grape represents one wish for the coming year.

In many cultures, wearing red underwear on New Year’s Eve is said to bring love, while yellow will ensure money comes your way. In Hungary the people burn effigies known as “Jack Straw”, who represents the misfortunes of the past year. Burning the effigy is supposed to get rid of the bad luck. In several cultures, it is also believed that carrying a piece of luggage at midnight will ensure that you have many safe travels for the coming year.