The BEST Street Food in Hong Kong

Hong Kong is one of the most densely populated places on earth. More than 6,000 people per square kilometer. When it comes to buildings, the most densely packed district in Hong Kong is Causeway Bay. It's on the north coast of Hong Kong Island, created when the city filled in what used to be a bustling port. Along with Fifth Avenue, the Ginza and Slopeside in Aspen, it's got some of the most expensive real estate in the world. Ironically, Causeway Bay has some of the best and least pretentious grab-and-go eats in town, making it very popular with the city's hip young gastronauts. Like Amy Ma, food and lifestyle reporter for the Wall Street Journal. She starts us off at what looks like a village farmer's market, dropped into a nest of steel and glass skyscrapers. This is Jardine's Bazaar. Unlike my friend Johannes, Amy eats what she likes, period. She doesn't care a whit about the gustatory TCM tenets, but some of what she likes is by default TCM friendly. There are two types of preserved eggs. This one is the uncooked version. For someone suffering from the kind of digestive trouble I've had on this trip, TCM prescribes eggs preserved in a mix of ash, salt, and lime for months. People all over Asia did this to preserve their eggs way before there was refrigeration. Do you like those? Yeah, it's a cultural thing. Oh, but look, it's got that lovely black goo coming out of it. Don't sensationalize it. Let me tell you something, I don't have to sensationalize it. That just speaks for itself. So it's got a kind of gelatinous layer and there's the inside gooier yolk, which tastes a bit like mushroom. Like many foods born of necessity, it's become comfort food in this culture. You just tuck into it like anything else? You can serve it with congee, you can... But why dilute the fabulous au naturel flavor? Because as I'm sure you can imagine, that just tastes fantastic all by itself. When Amy thinks I'm weaseling out of this by taking a smaller piece, she has no compunction about shaming me in front of my crew. And you cut yourself a much smaller piece. Did you guys see this? Hold on. Bizarre foods, guys. Hold on, what do you mean? It's twice as big. Inoffensive and, like, savory. I hate to admit it, but she's right. It's much less offensive than it looks. It's like brie cheese. No, it's got that mushroom taste. It has a little bit of... It has a little bit of umami-ish aroma, that's for sure. It's a little woodsy. That's just the egg rot. And I mean that in a nice way. These things are tolerable, but I'm a little tired of settling for tolerable. And I'm with someone who's perfectly happy leading me astray from my dietary commitment. Oh, you gotta be kidding me. You have to start with the Hong Kong waffle. The Hong Kong waffle is made with custard powder and tapioca flour, sugar and starch. Two absolute don'ts, according to my TCM doctor. Time to weigh the alternatives. Don't eat anything that I want to eat and travel around with this image of Dr. Ho in the back of my head. Or eat everything I want to eat with Amy. Yeah, that's not... That's a no-brainer, pal. That is a... That is a no-brainer. Oh, yeah. That's like a little cookie. Like a fortune cookie plus a waffle. It's a fortune cookie, a waffle and a mini donut. For tonight, the TCM diet is on hold. Sorry, Dr. Ho. The doctor never needs to know, and I can always get back on track tomorrow. Meanwhile, with no lingering guilt, I can roam free in Causeway Bay and indulge in some great eating. Like the shrimp dumplings and noodles at Max Noodle House, where they make what may be the best soup wontons in Hong Kong. The legend of Max dumpling is true. Nice and chewy because he pounds the shrimp. Right. And it should have that nice toothy chew. Exactly. This just melts in your mouth. And there's sweet pastry at Tai Chung Bakery. Only the Chinese can stuff a pastry with something like red bean curd and call it dessert. The sweet red bean on the inside is almost like a mixture between sand and custard. But hiding inside this innocent-looking treat is a black surprise. This is their specialty here. It's a preserved egg pastry. Now, hold on one second. Preserved egg. Those eggs that we just saw, that's what's inside here. Masked by a little bit of gorgeously sweet pastry. You cannot gild the lily enough to get me excited about this. But it turns out when you wrap that sharp cheesy flavor in sweet pastry, well, it almost works. This is much better than the straight thing, which I'm just really not a fan of. This is not, this is actually not bad. But that black thing in the middle. You didn't even get any. Is the egg. I did eat that. You somehow managed to push it like that. I did not push it back. Unbelievable. To finish the night, Amy takes me into the bustling kitchen of the Manor Restaurant. It's an old-school Cantonese joint that's hipster chic the later in the evening you arrive. Amy says they make the very best version of a Hong Kong favorite, gold coin sandwiches. Every single ingredient in this little sandwich would be a felony offense against a TCM diet. I really don't say this often. This may be one of the world's most perfect foods. I mean, because you have the layer of barbecue pork. You have that sticky sweet sauce. Then you have a thin sheet of fat. And then you've got that chicken liver. And it's all about the liver. Oh my god, it's the perfect foil for the whole thing. It's like eating river stones. The Manor is also famous for these wok-tossed soy sauce noodles. These are so special, a chef practices for two years before the Manor lets him make it for customers. That wind that you're hearing is he's actually using his knee. He's using his knee on those dials that fire up the wok. Before the wok is fired up, these handcrafted thin egg noodles are simply hydrated for 10 minutes. So what they're doing is they actually let the noodles soak in the water. They sort of half hydrate. And they're not really cooked all the way through, but they're also not really al dente. It's a more specialized treatment. It's the secret to good thin egg noodles. And the real artistry comes when it's time to toss the noodles into a wok. So the way they do it here is they don't use tongs or an actual spatula. They'll use their chopsticks. The reasoning there is that it aerates it a little faster. And if you were just flipping it, the whole mound of noodles would turn. But if you're using chopsticks, individual strands are turning. Right. Exactly. In the end, it appears to be just a plate of wok-tossed noodles with a few seasonings, some bean sprouts, some sesame seeds. For this, two years of practice. The result? Perfection. Cheers. Really nice. The smoky wok flavor is there, that Breath of the Dragon. And it's nice with all of that bean sprout. For a second there, when he was putting it, I said the ratio is gonna be too bean sprouty. But that nutty bean sprout taste is really good. Fantastic. My evening with Amy was a great night for food. A terrible night for my diet. But at least I can be a good boy when it comes to my daily dose of medicinal tea. This noodle shop brought me some hot water to warm it up. Maybe this way, it'll be a little less awful. At the risk of another night spent sitting on the toilet. Cheers. God, this stuff is disgusting. When you fall off the wagon, you just have to get back on again. Yuck.