There's something delightful in a bowl of comfort food - a cassoulet from Carcossonne, the irish stew from a mum or grandmother, or the bowl of zhou, 粥. We call it congee. I found a small place in Tsim Sha Tsui, called Chui Fat, where the zhou is sublime. Thin slices of ginger lie at the bottom, sliced shallots on the top, hardy pork balls and a small sliced fish in a salted dish. Wonderful. And it's next to a comprehensive English book store, Swindon in Lock Road, Tsim Sha Tsui. Where I picked up a good copy of Geremie Barme's, In The Red: On Contemporary Chinese Culture.
I'm contemplating going back again, for the zhou that is.
These lines are from Paul Weller in about 1971. They are in response to the young Hong Kong students, who at 20 years, still all dress in pink t-shirts and try to march in unison to cheesy songs with their hands in the Lou Reed, I Wish I Was A Sailor, And Lived A Thousand Years Ago, salute.
Two lovers kissing amongst the screams of midnight,
Two lovers missing the tranquility of solitude.
Get in the cab man, travelling on buses.
We don't care about slashed seats on buses,
I say,
That's Entertainment.
The two young guys were circumspect but they had style in Festival Walk, Kowloon Tong.
不听我的，看
Hi Lachlan, Tony here. I've been trying to get a message through to you for ages but organising a comment on a blog is like trying to get into fort knox! Frustrating! I hope you are well. It appears from your blog that you are immersed in your course and absorbing Chinese culture. The photos are good as well. It comes across as a cerebral and literary blog... very good. It must all be so fascinating. I look forward to the unexpurgated version on your return. We are off to S.Australia on a 3 week holiday tomorrow. Every Good Wish, Tony
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