Vignettes of the World
The day was bright and perfect for al fresco dining. I joined my family in a casual lunch at the Beas River Country Club of the Hong Kong Jockey Club in Sheung Shui. I lived close, so I walked about 40 minutes to arrive at …
When I woke up on my first full day in Japan, I decided to ditch the Osaka Castle and head right on to Kyoto. I took the JR line to Kyoto from the Osaka Station, having to navigate the morning’s rush hour, and arrived in …
A walk amidst the hustle and bustle of Central during a weekday rush hour can be a bewildering experience. As Hong Kong’s business district, Central is the heart of the matter when it concerns business. But visitors to Hong Kong would not miss the historic significance of Central. Innumerable historical structures speak amply to the life of Hong Kong’s early colonial times. From churches to temple and mosque, from civilian governance to military defense, from marketplaces to banking high-rises, from grand residences at the Peak to the humble hawkers of Lan Kwai Fong before it became the bar hub, Central is a place that epitomizes the spirited motions of Hong Kong life. Central weaves together the dynamics of the business world, the commoners’ lives and the world’s ever-evolving relationships. And this is what defines Hong Kong.
In the following few entries under Hong Kong Lesser Known, I will discuss a number of historical sites in Central that, in my view, will present a narrative that is representative of Hong Kong. I will also propose a roadmap for a historic tour in Central, for those who would like to come within these structures and feel their celebrated presence.
Lying on the east of Central’s business district is a set of steps that have acquired historic status. On Queen’s Road Central, go eastward toward the Admiralty direction. Make a right when you see Duddell Street. Keep going about thirty meters and you will come upon a set of granite steps, with classic balustrades lining its two sides. Standing on the four corners of the steps are four gas lamps that came from the colonial times.
The Duddell Street was named after the merchant brothers George and Frederick Duddell, who owned a lot of land, property and a public market in Central during the 19th century. They were also some of the first opium farmers in Hong Kong at the time. The Duddell Street Steps connects Duddell Street to Ice House Street in its south, but at a higher elevation.
Installation for the Duddell Street Steps and Gas Lamps completed circa 1883-1889, still early in the colonial days. Together, the steps and the gas lamps of Duddell Street are the very expression of colonial architecture. According to the Antiquities and Monuments Office, “It is characterised by heavily moulded newels, rails and balusters of Tuscan order.” On the two sides of the steps are lined granite retaining walls that support the steps and the balustrades.
The Duddell Street Gas Lamps were once the standard lighting in Hong Kong Streets. These lamps are two-light Rochester models of the firm William Sugg & Co., and they were added during the early 20th century. In the old days, they were hand-lit, but now they are lit automatically by the supply of gas by Towngas and they are still working. Every day at 6pm the lamps are lit, and then at 6am they are turned off automatically. In 1967, Hong Kong electrified its street lights, and so these four gas lamps remain the only working examples of gas lamps in all of Hong Kong.
The current lamp shades were an addition of 1984, when the Hong Kong Government specifically ordered them from Britain for a cost of more than $100,000. At some point, there were talks about moving these four gas lamps to a museum, but eventually they stayed at this current location as part of the declared monument.
Typhoon Mangkhut of 2018 caused severe damage to the Duddell Street Steps and Gas Lamps. According to the Antiquities and Monuments Office, “the project team was determined to adhere strictly to the conservation principle of using original craftsmanship and materials, supplemented by advanced 3D scanning technology in order to restore the monument faithfully. The restoration was completed on 23 December 2019.”
The Duddell Street Steps and Gas Lamps are a declared monument.
The Antiquities and Monuments Office, Duddell Street Steps and Gas Lamps, Central.
The Wikipedia on Duddell Street.
Gary Chi-hung Luk, Monopoly, Transaction and Extortion: Public Market Franchise and Colonial Relationships in British Hong Kong, 1844-58, 52 J. of the Royal Asiatic Society Hong Kong Branch 139 (2012).
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Ask just about any Hong Kong person and you would find answers to all things Japan. Japan is hands down the most popular travel destination for Hong Kong people. In fact, many in Hong Kong call it “going home” when they go to Japan. Clearly, …
Besides the Cha Chaan Teng’s, the Dai Pai Dong’s are also a way of dining that is distinctly Hong Kong. In recent months I have had the pleasure of visiting a few Dai Pai Dong’s in Hong Kong. I do consider the Dai Pai Dong’s to be heritage dining. Let us delve into its history.
Dai Pai Dong refers to the large outdoor dining areas, oftentimes located in a large swarthe on busy streets in heavily residential districts. They feature large green canvases as the overlay. Food is served on folding tables and chairs that are taken down when the restaurant closes each day.
Some people call these canvassed areas with pointed tops “mushroom pavilions.” These types of dining establishments were exceedingly popular for Hong Kong’s working class during the 1950s or so.
The word “Dai Pai Dong” means “stalls with the big license,” referring to the fact that the operators have the licenses to serve cooked food in a predetermined location outdoors. The origin of the Dai Pai Dong’s are very much a part of Hong Kong’s economic history. Even as early as 1847, the Hong Kong Government has instituted a system of regulating hawkers. There was the “small license” and the “big license,” as distinguished between the Itinerant License holders that operated without a fixed location, and the Fixed-pitch License holders that operated at a fixed location, even though both ran their businesses on the streets.
As a matter of practice, the Fixed-pitch (dai pai) license holders have to display their license at the place of business. The license is a large piece of paper with the name of the license holder and the approved location of the business. A point to note is that not all hawker license holders sold food. The big license was also issued to barbers, shoe shiners, newspaper vendors or craftsmen.
Needless to say, this type of business operation was going to be the means of living for a lot of the immigrants that came to Hong Kong with virtually no other prospects. That was the economy of Hong Kong in the early colonial days. The Hong Kong Government chose to regulate the hawkers of Hong Kong, for it knew full well that social problems would surface if people could not find a livelihood.
Fast forward to the 1950s, around the time that WWII ended and the Hong Kong society was in desperate need for normalcy and economic recovery, the hawker and Dai Pai Dong economy blossomed further as more immigrants came from China due to the Civil War. The cheap food enabled the working classes to have a quick and economical meal. Of course, these Dai Pai Dong’s were also key players in Hong Kong’s economy.
Beginning in the 1970s, the Hong Kong Government began taking active measures to regulate the hawkers further. On one hand, the Hong Kong Government grouped many of these Dai Pai Dong’s in centralized locations. Due to the consistent development of public housing estates, the Hong Kong Government offered many of these Dai Pai Dong’s the option to move to the cooked food section of the wet markets. Otherwise they would have to surrender their licenses and accept compensation from the government. On the other hand, the Hong Kong Government has also ceased issuing Dai Pai Dong licenses in 1972, to slowly phase out these establishments. That is the same practice as the Itinerant License (the small license) for hawkers.
For a lot of the well-known restaurants in Hong Kong, the Dai Pai Dong was the humble beginning with which they established a footing in the market decades ago. Once they managed to accumulate the capital for a better arrangement, many also opted to “move up” to a covered dining space, regardless of the government’s hawker policy.
As such, a lot of Dai Pai Dong’s are now proper restaurants with air-conditioned, rented store space. There is, of course, that element of nostalgia if you find a Dai Pai Dong that still operates in the canvassed stalls outdoors (see below on Shing Kee). Those are certainly the classic and perhaps it is worthwhile to do it once before they are all gone. But a lot of the good ones that moved to a proper dining space are still serving the kind of food that represents the working-class dining culture. They tend to be wok-fried food, and I will explain below.
Wok hey! This is a term that has transcended territorial and cultural boundaries in recent years, thanks to the world movement for chefs of all nations to dabble in the cooking of foods in cultures other than their own. The term “wok hey” is uniquely Cantonese. Literally meaning “the fiery fumes of the wok,” it refers to the palatal sensation of the lingering, sizzling fumes of food that were thrown for rounds in the wok over a piping hot gas stove.
It is difficult to describe wok hey in words. At first glance, it is not about the flavors. It is, first and foremost, about the temperature of the food. But a really good Dai Pai Dong chef will make food effusing wok hey even after it turns cold. At a closer look, it does have to do with the flavors of the food, because more of it is drawn out with extreme heat, an open fire and the quick throwing motions in the wok.
Because the food of Dai Pai Dong’s are mostly wok-fried, wok hey is hands down the standard of first order, to which any Dai Pai Dong must meet. The same Cantonese fried rice can be good in a fine dining hotel restaurant but judged differently if it were served in a Dai Pai Dong. Any Dai Pai Dong that failed to deliver wok hey would have failed its spirit as the street food of Hong Kong.
Let’s first consider Shing Kee, which is famous as one of the very few classic street dining stalls remaining in all of Hong Kong. You will not miss Shing Kee when you pass by the food-busy streets in the Old Central Market area. Shing Kee is open on Stanley Street just under the Mid-Levels escalators.
On this day we opted for a la carte dishes instead of the lunch special sets. We ordered a chicken clay pot called “jer jer chicken.” Shing Kee really lives up to its reputation in this dish. The clay pot was sizzling all the way when we worked through our bowls of rice with the chicken. The pot had two main ingredients, chicken and pork liver. There was an astute amount of aromatics (meaning, heaps of them) and a very nice sauce base that gave the claypot dish its flavors. Good claypot cooking has the effect of crisping up the ingredients. In this case, both the chicken and the pork liver pieces had a slightly charred texture.
We also order a steamed fish that surely paled in comparison to the claypot.
Tung Po Kitchen is famous for its wonderful Dai Pai Dong food, and its reputation has run for decades. Originally in North Point, the restaurant was located in a cooked food section in the wet market. It has now reopened its doors in Wan Chai in a proper restaurant dining space.
As we sat down for the food, we were amazed and thought that it really lived up to its reputation. The wok hey was so good in the fried rice that you could still taste it after the fried rice turned cold.
The problem with Tung Po Kitchen is that it has become very touristy due to its good name. It played American music throughout our time there, and it was so loud that my friends and I simply could not have a conversation. The owner went around the tables in an endless toast to the foreigners there, and perhaps the atmosphere was too much a party for us.
Surely, you wouldn’t expect low key whispers and the subtle clinking of tall wine glasses in a street food stall, or in any common Chinese restaurant for that matter, but having to scream off our lungs was a little extreme. It is for that reason that I likely would not go back to Tung Po despite its wonderful food.
This Fo Tan establishment is one amongst many Dai Pai Dong’s in the area. The good thing with the Dai Pai Dong’s in Fo Tan is that they are mostly air conditioned even as canvassed street restaurants. We sat comfortably there during a dog day of the summer.
However, I thought the food was a bit too low-key for a Dai Pai Dong. There was not enough wok hey. It did not taste bad, but perhaps not enough to claim the fiery reputation of a Dai Pai Dong. The restaurant does offer some unique dishes, such as honey fried eel. The prices are surely reasonable too.
Let me offer a last word of caution to readers. The Dai Pai Dong’s had humble roots serving working class food for the Chinese people of Hong Kong, but many of the upgraded Dai Pai Dong’s now are not cheap, especially if you order seafood. If you are a foreigner in Hong Kong, ask for the price before you order seafood dishes. Better yet, go with a local.
The Wikipedia on Dai Pai Dong (Chin).
Food and Environmental Hygiene Department, Itinerant Hawker Licence.
Food and Environmental Hygiene Department, Fixed-pitch Hawker Licence.
The train to Shenzhen would depart in the early evening and I debated how to spend the day in Jiangmen. To be honest, there was not very much in this city that I wanted to see, as I was almost always only keen on heritage …
I have a very favorable impression of Jiangmen due to a personal memory of my grandma. When WWII began, resources were scarce. She would take her mother’s Qing dynasty clothes to the merchants of Jiangmen in exchange for money. “One piece of my mother’s Qing …
The theme of security and protection has been prominently featured in the diaolou’s that I have visited in Kaiping. But Nan Lou is perhaps the only diaolou that came with an official history in the defense of the nation.
We called a car to take us to Nan Lou. There were a whole lot of cars trying to get into the parking lot of the Chikan studio city. We had to call twice before we managed to meet our driver. Nan Lou is perhaps a 15 minute drive from Chikan.
From afar, the Nan Lou stands tall and proud as a testament of war history in a dedicated garden space. While its appearance does not stand out from the rest of the diaolou’s I have seen, it breathes history in a wholly different manner, as shown in the permanent scars on its exteriors.
These are the bullet holes inflicted on the building by the invading Japanese troops of World War II. The moving heroism of the Situ brothers that defended this tower is what makes the Nan Lou a must-see diaolou in Kaiping.
Like so many of the diaolou’s in Kaiping, Nan Lou was meant to guard against bandits. Built in 1912, Nan Lou stood at a location of critical strategic value, ashore the Tanjiang River and the neighboring road network into Chikan.
Photo: View of Tanjiang River from Nan Lou.
The Situs built this 7-story reinforced concrete tower. Nan Lou was fortified. On each floor there were gunholes, observation decks, machine guns and searchlights.
Situ Xu, leading six other members of the Kaiping Situ Self-Defense Forces, raged a staunch resistance here in Nan Lou against the onslaught of the Japanese into Chikan. Situ Xu was an overseas Chinese himself. He lived in Nanyang (Southeast Asia) for a long time, and returned to his homeland specifically intending to organize the resistance movement against Japanese invasion. He set up the Kaiping Situ Self-Defense Forces, who managed to stall Japanese advances in this area by winning a few battles in 1944 and 1945.
On July 17, 1945, the Japanese forces had closed in on Chikan. They surrounded this area with additional troops arriving on the Tanjiang River. They ambushed the Nan Lou at night. The team led by Situ Xu vowed to fight to their deaths.
The 7 celebrated heroes were Situ Xu, as captain, Situ Bing, as ammunitions officer, Situ Nong, Situ Yao and Situ Yu, as machine gun officers, Situ Xuan, as the clerk for the team, and Situ Chang, as the intelligence officer.
In Nan Lou they lasted 7 days and 7 nights of intense fighting against the Japanese troops approaching from land and water. There was no one to come to their rescue. As they were isolated in this tower, their food, water and ammunition ran out. Defeat was certain, but the 7 teammates were resolved. They wrote a joint statement as their final words, prepared to leave behind a testament of their kindred spirit. After days of fighting, the Japanese troops failed to claim Nan Lou. They decided to launch toxic gas bombs into the structure. This first attempt at gas bombing was thwarted by a south-blowing wind current.
Photo: The Japanese toxic gas bombs destroyed this window and its metal rail.
Our 7 heroes did, inevitably, meet the cruelest of fate. On July 25th, 1945, they succumbed to a series of toxic gas attack. They lost consciousness and the Japanese troops took them for a trial at the Japanese commander’s headquarters. Upon their refusal to surrender, the Japanese forces tortured them to death and mutilated them. They displayed their bodies outside of the Situ Library in Chikan. Thereafter, the Japanese simply tossed their remains into the Tanjiang River.
The villagers searched along the shores of Tanjiang River, and managed to find 5 of the 7 bodies for a proper burial at Gaozui Village, a location facing both the Tanjiang River and Nan Lou.
This story moved me to tears. Surely, in all kinds of war writing, be it a matter of ideology or actual fighting, the writers of museum texts in China tend to melodramatize the narrative. But taking the mere facts as they were presented, one would see a kind of heroism that arose only from the deepest of love for the homeland.
And it was in Nan Lou that I felt the soul of Chikan.
Descriptions on site at Nan Lou.
My friend and I went to Kaiping because she saw an ad on the MTR in Hong Kong promoting the Chikan Ancient Town. As such, it was with a whole lot of anticipation that I arrived at Chikan from Majianglong Village. And, to say the …