Motion, Hong Kong is seethed with motion. Action runs ceaselessly in her veins, sometimes with a sense of rawness, sometimes with a touch of absurd fantasies. Anything could happen here, anything is possible. Readers, if you dare, you can take it all.
I'm not writing a story for the Hong Kong Tourism Board. I'm just trying to prime you for a feast made entirely out of a curving creature called snake. That's all I wanted.
The dinner was about snake, snake, and snake. So much so that even the wine we drank was one soaked with snake bile. In short, you are about to behold a whole bevy of serpents. In this dowdy little dining room, if you dare, you can take it all.
The first was a soup called "governor's soup of five snakes." It was made with the silvers of snakes, chicken, mushroom shreds, some black fungus (wood ear) and a bunch of other things that no one even bother to remember. Why anyway? Soon learnt, soon forgotten. There are mint leaves, fried flour flakes, and even petals of Chrysanthemum (flowers and snakes, they match perfectly, don't they?) at your disposal to lift up the flavors.
And step after step we ascended the ladder, the second one was "fried cloak of the dragon in seven colors," which spells as chop suey with snake skin. That's an old saying among Chinese foodies that goes "Dragons up in the sky and snakes down on the earth." That maybe part of the reason why Chinese character "dragon" is often used interchangeably with snake in the menu.
The third dish was stir-fried snakes with celery. The flesh was extremely chewy. So popular was it that we literally whipped the plate with our chopsticks. Damn it, so much was mine as I enjoyed, two bites were all I managed before it became an evanescence.
The fourth one was "sleekly-fried snake intestines with peas." The name suggested only intestines but there were more. In fact, it was peas fried with all the innards of snake: guts, livers, hearts and lungs. Again, we stroke while the iron was hot and it was all gone in seconds.
The fifth was "stewed snake bellies with dried tofu skins and mushrooms." It was flavored with some red tofu. Smelled pleasantly pungent, tasted moist and succulent. All marvy, we said.
Such beginning, such ending. It's nice to know that the finale was more than just snakes. It was, in a way, the most cold-blooded family reunion you'll ever eaten. Readers, I really meant what I said. It was all reptiles: a double-boiled consomme featuring tokay gecko, silkie, softshell turtle, a tortoise shell and snakes in a whopping bowl. Somehow, I lost the fight for the tail of the tokay gecko to the gourmet sitting next to me. The tail is said to have a special effect towards sexual impotence, and spleen, no birth. Maybe next time, pal, I'm doing fine lately.
The Hungarian white, Aussie red and Champagne were all done by now, except we've saved the best for last. That being the Chartreuse-coloured snake bile wine on the right. It smelled whiffy and it tasted just like one might have imagined snake bile would taste...and snake bile, for the benefit of those with unsophisticated palates, tastes like, well, dated cough medicine. But hey, what else for such a night?
Thank you, Master Yue, you're so vain. But we're still safe and sound after all your sleazy moves, except, SSS, what's that noise in my ears?
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