# Touring Hong Kong's Walled Villages



## hkskyline (Sep 13, 2002)

*Ping Shan Heritage Trail *
http://www.lcsd.gov.hk/ce/Museum/Monument/en/trails_pingshan.php










Ping Shan has one of the longest recorded histories amongst districts in Hong Kong. A lineage of the Tang clan, one of the "Five Great Clans" in the New Territories, can be traced back to the twelfth century. Numerous elegant structures built in those days remain today, bearing testimony to historical and social development over the past centuries. 

Photo source : http://f91hk.poco.cn


















































































































































*Life In Hong Kong: On History's Trail *
7 November 1994
The Asian Wall Street Journal

Proud temples from centuries past stand shoulder-to-shoulder with stark 20th century housing on the Ping Shan Heritage Trail, the first footpath dedicated to Hong Kong's history.

In one short kilometer, hikers can see Hong Kong's only ancient pagoda, its largest ancestral hall and a walled village, as well as crumbling decades-old housing and stretches of apartment high-rises that threaten to scratch the sky.

The trail in Yuen Long takes visitors to 10 sites scattered through the villages of Hang Mei Tseun, Hang Tau Tseun and Sheng Cheng Wai, where mahjongg and "tai sai," a dice game, are the prime afternoon occupations at tea houses. Some of the lush green fields between the New Territories hamlets are littered with discarded bricks, tiles and broken glass, and most are populated by dogs of indeterminate breed. On recent weekday, there are more mutts than sightseers.

The tracts of trash and stretch of cookie-cutter high-rises just beyond the 600-year-old Tsui Shing Lau pagoda are sad reminders that the population demands of the present are quickly destroying remnants of the past.

"This is the first heritage trail in Hong Kong," says Susanna Siu, acting curator of the Antiquities and Monuments Office under the Recreation and Culture Branch of the Hong Kong government. "It's very unique and very concentrated. You could speed through in half an hour -- though we encourage spending half a day -- and see a variety of different structures, giving you a sense of the area's history."

The Ping Shan trail's charms, even its drawbacks, are best revealed by carefully studying the details of each structure. The buildings are not immense temples or palaces like those in Beijing. Most are modest, yet ornately appointed, halls belonging to the Tang clan of Ping Shan.

The path, organized by the Lord Wilson Heritage Trust and opened last December, begins at tiny Hung Shing Temple. The simple gray brick building, built by the Tang clan in 1767, is off Ping Ha Road, a short hike from the Ping Shan station on the Light Rail Transit system.

Hung Shing is unusual because its central courtyard is uncovered. Many Hong Kong temple courtyards are roofed to form incense towers. While Hung Shing's exterior is nondescript, its three altars are elaborately draped with red cloth, lit by lanterns and backed by murals of dragons and deer. The temple is still in use and its air is thick with incense.

Further along the trail, which is well marked with signposts of wood and brass, is the Kun Ting Study Hall and the neighboring guest residence, Ching Shu Hin, which housed prominent scholars. Both were built around 1870, when the Tang clan was schooling its youths for the imperial civil service examination. Having students pass the exam enhanced the status of the clan, which was at its height of prosperity during the Qing Dynasty (1644-1911).

The civil service exam was abolished in 1904, but the study hall was used for education until after World War II. During the ensuing decades it fell into disrepair. A report in the Antiquities and Monuments Office archives, made before renovations in 1990-91, notes the study hall's "roof has collapsed. Tiles, brick and rubble are strewn all over; the exquisitely carved panels are broken and defaced, and the courtyard is overgrown with wild vegetation."

The study hall and guest house were restored for HK$5.81 million with funds from the Royal Hong Kong Jockey Club. The green-brick study hall has carved, granite columns along its exterior and sea-blue ceramic grilles covering interior windows. At the rear of the hall is a blue, gold and red altar stretching to the ceiling. The guest house features elegant blue-glazed window grilles, painted plaster reliefs and carved wood moldings.

Nearby is the largest structure on the trail, the 700-year-old Tang Ancestral Hall, which still serves as a focal point for the area's nine Tang villages. This long, three section, green-brick building is where clan members conduct ancestral worship, celebrate festivals and discuss local affairs. Its 1991 restoration cost HK$4.3 million, and was paid for by the Tan Man-lei Foundation, a trust established by the Tang clan.

A few bends further up the path is a grated, six-sided well. About 200 years ago, it supplied water to Hang Tau village and, later, the walled village of Sheung Cheung Wai. Plastic wrappers now float atop the well's murky green water.

The well's fate is perhaps better than that of the Shrine of the Earth God. Stray dogs forage in trash cans overflowing beside the brick altar, which was built to protect the villagers of Sheung Cheung Wai, Shui Tau Tsuen and Shui Mei Tseun. The shrine was restored last year. Its exact date of construction is unknown, says Tom Ming of the Antiquities and Monuments Office.

A short stroll toward the apartment towers along the northern horizon leads to Tsui Shing Lau, the Pagoda of Gathering Stars. The three-story hexagon of gray brick and slabs of granite was built in the 14th century to improve the locality's "feng shui," or harmony with nature's elements for good fortune. According to the antiquities office, the pagoda stood at what once was the mouth of a river at Deep Bay. Reclamation has obliterated the river and Deep Bay from sight of the pagoda.

Antiquities office records note the pagoda was intended to protect villagers from "unfavorable northern influence" and to prevent tides from "washing away the fortunes of the village." The pagoda was favorably aligned with Castle Peak to ensure success for Tang clan members taking the civil service examination.

While the clan prospered and produced several officials, the pagoda reportedly did not fare so well. According to legend, Tsui Shing Lau was seven stories high when it was built. It's said to have lost four floors in two typhoons several centuries ago.

Today, the ground floor altar is still used by worshipers, but the stairway leading upstairs is roped off. That doesn't deter visitors from exploring the 18-meter-high structure. On the top floor is a bedroll, evidence that one pilgrim's lot may have been improved by the pagoda's positive feng shui.


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## yaluman (May 9, 2009)

*Tze tze*

Fascinating thread! Thank you for sharing *hkskyline*!


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## hkskyline (Sep 13, 2002)

*One hour out: Hong Kong 
In a city notoriously low on parks, green space beckons*
By John Krich
12 September 2008
The Wall Street Journal Asia

The sixth in a series of articles seeking to answer the question, When a traveler has had about enough of the jingle-jangle of the urban jungle, can relief be just an hour away?

'Get thee to a Nunnery!"

This Shakespearean admonition was the main advice I got from friends about how to find somewhere in Hong Kong that wasn't, well, too much Hong Kong.

But at the Chi Lin monastery, the only Buddhist nun in sight (in shaved head and robes of pure white) is chatting away on her mobile phone as she guards a Buddha statuette. Some things about Hong Kong you just can't escape.

Poor hemmed-in Hong Kong: In one direction, "one hour out" means formerly reddest China; in the other direction, the deep blue South China Sea. In between, beyond Sai Kung in the New Territories, there are the country parks, where hikes over undulating peaks, while taken on trails of concrete, still lead to dazzling, empty beaches. But even at Hong Kong's breakneck pace, these outings usually take a fair bit more than an hour to reach or savor.

The ever-enterprising Hong Kong Tourism Board does offer visitors a chance to seek out the city's "heritage." Of course, few major cities in Asia have a shorter history than Hong Kong -- and, on top of this, no city has so convincingly obliterated it -- but in fairness, I give a try to the Ping Shan Heritage Trail, which starts from the sleek Tin Shui Wai West Rail Station, a half-hour from Kowloon.

The trail turns out to meander mainly along fencing on one side of a canal of industrial sludge, and takes all of 20 minutes to complete. The smattering of older buildings, exhaustively catalogued, are tiny, dank and unadorned -- and Hong Kong's only ancient pagoda, at the very start of the trail, is unfortunately positioned so close to the rail station that it could serve as a hall for checked baggage.

Signs offer the chance to step inside the Tang and Yu Kiu Ancestral Halls, which stand imposingly together in what passes for the main village square. The high walls and large courtyards attest to the wealth of these formerly powerful clans -- and they do impart some feeling of the estimated 700-year lineage of the buildings, even if most has been reconstructed. But given the lack of context -- Ping Shan was once a harbor, but it long ago silted up -- such heritage can't leave much of an impression. (The town is best visited during the lively Spring Festival, when locals serve up giant vats of pun choi, a distinctive rice casserole with seafood and sausages that first gained currency as an offering to the dead.)

Chi Lin Nunnery is far easier to reach and far more satisfying. Just follow the signs coming out of the Diamond Hill MTR stop, avoiding the escalators to the mall built smack above the station. A block uphill and right leads to the monastery complex, impossible to miss because there's nothing else like it south of Beijing. They call it a living museum of the Tang Dynasty, even if it is a 1998 recreation of architecture from somewhere around the year 898 (and even if Hong Kong wasn't even a glint in some Emperor's eye back then.)

The 16 halls are made of timber, with nary a nail used; the roofs, a gray tile; the carvings and feng shui alignments just right. The bonsai plants in the large courtyards are immaculately kept. The columns and sweeping lines are about as majestic as one can find anywhere in this workaday town. There's a large complex up the hill, off-limits to tourists, where the nunnery carries on its charitable work.

The only things in short supply are smoky incense and penitents; on weekdays especially, the place is pretty much empty. It may be quite different on special occasions when, as one brochure warns, "religious activities may be in progress."

From the nunnery complex, a stately causeway leads to a bonus that's even better for solitude (a precious commodity here): Nan Lian Garden. A single lazy circuit takes me through its three hectares or so, filled with carefully crafted landscaping, meditative paths and further halls and towers in matching Tang style. Scrupulously managed by the nunnery, this could possibly be the prettiest public spot in all Hong Kong. It is surely the quietest. Even with surveillance cameras and piped-in plucked koto music, Nan Lian feels like a sincere homage to gardens past -- and not some Sinoland theme park.

An authentic variety of pu'er and other sharp, high-end teas is served after 11 a.m. in the mini-gazebo beside a lotus pond. The larger vegetarian restaurant looks even more enjoyable, with an eight-course set menu including an all-veg hot pot and string beans braised with porcini mushrooms. Perhaps there are some budding Julia Childs among the nuns.

I can't say there's much else to do here but stroll and rid one's self of impure, materialistic thoughts. But that's saying a lot in a place with among the world's lowest ratios of urban parkland to population. You almost don't notice the high-density apartment blocks looming on all sides.

Unfortunately, the lengthy curved pathway that winds out of Nan Lian Garden's front gate leads me smack to a corner covered with a freeway overpass, with shovel tractors pounding away. Ah, Hong Kong. Once again, some things never change.

Chi Lin Nunnery is open daily, 9 a.m. to 4:30 p.m., admission is free. Nan Lian Garden is open daily, 7 a.m. to 9 p.m.

---

John Krich is a Bangkok-based writer.


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## hkskyline (Sep 13, 2002)

*A rallying point for resistance *
8 October 2005
South China Morning Post

Once a scenic spot famous for its paddy fields and hills, Ping Shan was also known for its strong resistance to the British rulers.

The village was the rallying point for Tang clan members in the New Territories, spanning Yuen Long, Kam Tin, Tai Po and Sha Tin.

Hundreds, if not thousands, of young Tang clansmen united to fight the British in 1899, shortly after the lease of the New Territories began. The number of rebels swelled to more than 2,000 as villagers from South China joined in the resistance.

Placards were posted in the village, expressing the clansmen's hatred of British rule, and battles were fought with cannons and rifles.

Old study halls were military bases for villagers, and the ancestral hall was a martial arts training centre for the men.

But the New Territories were eventually subdued by British soldiers. Some 172 villagers died in the battles against the British. A monument was erected in memory of the dead. Several police stations were then built in the New Territories, and one of them was Ping Shan police station.

In 1993, a Ping Shan Heritage Trail was set up with funding from the Hong Kong Jockey Club to preserve its ancient buildings.

The trail is about a kilometre long and links a number of structures and monuments, including Tsui Sing Lau Pagoda, the only ancient pagoda in Hong Kong (it was built in the 15th century); Tang Ancestral Hall, Hong Kong's largest which was built in 1273; the walled village Sheung Cheung Wai; and Kun Ting Study Hall, where students used to prepare for the Imperial Civil Service Examination.


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## hkskyline (Sep 13, 2002)

*The dish: Pun Choi 
This stew, a basin chock-full of 14 ingredients, is pure Hong Kong*
By Amy Ma
27 March 2009
The Wall Street Journal Asia
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB123788623683123581.html

It's considered a Hong Kong culinary relic, said to capture the distilled soul of the land. These days, though most lifelong Hong Kongers have heard about pun choi, many have never tasted it.

Dismissed as low-brow grub, it never won a regular spot on the menus of fancy Chinese restaurants here, which tend to favor items with a more sophisticated reputation. As such, the dish itself has remained confined largely to the home kitchens of its birthplace in Hong Kong's New Territories area.

Pun choi, whose name translates to "basin food," is literally just that -- a large basin, traditionally made of wood, filled with up to 14 types of ingredients, assembled into a casserole. Each item is individually prepared in advance and then carefully layered in the basin, similar to the way a terrine is made with the ingredients arranged in tiers. Then, just before serving, the contents are reheated until warm for no more than 30 minutes over an open fire.

"You start off with a layer of braised turnips on the bottom," explains Ping-kwan Leung, a dedicated foodie who is also a comparative literature professor at Lingnan University in Hong Kong. "Then there are the usual suspects: mushrooms, bamboo shoots, bean curd, fish balls, fried pork skins, squid, pan-seared prawns, five-spice chicken, dried eel, braised pork in soy-sauce paste, and roasted duck -- the more expensive the ingredient, the higher up they're placed" in the cooking basin.

The amassed creation has a stew-like quality, with the juices from the meats binding together the other ingredients. Yet each individual element, slightly softened from the quick baking, retains the integrity of its distinct texture, ranging from the al dente fish balls, the chewy pork skin, to the crispy skin and tender meat of the roasted chicken.

"Nothing fancy," adds Prof. Leung. "Just cheap, locally grown produce found in the countryside."

THE HISTORY

Legend has it that the dish was thrown together by mainland village peasants in the Song Dynasty (960-1279), when one of the emperor's generals arrived with his army in retreat from the Mongols. Lacking enough bowls for all the soldiers, the villagers piled what food they had into a washing basin and created the first pun choi.

Officially, pun choi is indigenous to Hong Kong's walled-village, or wai tsuen, cuisine. According to Prof. Leung, these folk dishes were invented by the earliest settlers in Hong Kong -- in the area now called the New Territories -- who had been driven south of the mainland by a series of barbarian invasions in China between the 13th to 17th centuries. Continual threat from enemies and nearby pirates during these turbulent times called for building entirely enclosed fortress-like villages surrounded by thick defensive walls, the remnants of which can still be seen today along the coastal areas of the New Territories.

With pun choi's signature large portion sizes and communal eating style, its consumption naturally led to congregations of large parties, including entire villages. Over time, it grew to be a mainstay dish during Chinese festivals, especially those relating to ancestor worship where it was essential for families to assemble en masse. Though the tradition continued to be carried out within older families of the territory, the dish never caught on with newer immigrants to Hong Kong, mostly because it was rarely served in a restaurant.

Then came the handover of Hong Kong to China from Britain in 1997.

Spurred by a desire for remembrance and nostalgia at the time, locals made pun choi a nationalistic metaphor for Hong Kong's identity. Citizens, pulled between their Chinese and British legacies, wanted to reassert their "Hongkongness," says Sidney Cheung, a Chinese University of Hong Kong professor and food historian.

Because it predated the colonial era, and thus was unaffected by Western influences, pun choi was revered as a dish that was "born and raised" in Hong Kong, and found nowhere else. Made from locally grown ingredients and cooked by villagers with local family lineages, it was a precious bit of something "purely Hong Kong," says Prof. Cheung.

Consequently, the late '90s welcomed a slew of "discovery tours" for locals that included heritage-site visits and pun choi-tasting trips. "The journey into the inner parts of the New Territories is for urban Hong Kong residents, a journey into their inner selves," says Prof. Cheung. A big basin of pun choi, like a time capsule, captures Hong Kong's pastoral pedigree and flavors of the past. It also reveals a facet of the territory's old-school, village-dining culture that has gotten lost in the hustle and bustle of modern, urban life, he says.

THE SETTING

A native of Ping Shan village in the New Territories near Yuen Long, fashion designer William Tang can trace his ancestry over a thousand years. He enjoys pun choi the way it was meant to be eaten: Prepared and served in his family's 600-year-old ancestral hall in Ping Shan and shared by the entire village with a guest count of up to 500 people during Chinese New Year, weddings, birthdays and banquets.

Calling it "the most important place for a family," Mr. Tang describes his ancestral hall as a free-standing "house" -- though it is not a residence -- with five different sections, two large patios and an inner court where the ancestral tablets are housed. "It's not seen as a somber or morbid site," he says. "Rather, it is a place to pay (your) respects and congregate as a community." Many families, usually the older, wealthier clans of Hong Kong, still have ancestral halls in the New Territories.

During holidays centered on ancestor worship, such as the grave-sweeping festivals of Ching Ming in the spring (April 4 this year) and Chung Yeung in the autumn (Oct. 26 this year), it once was customary to bring pun choi to the actual gravesite or family tombs to share the meal with the ancestors. The large basins made for a fitting way to transport the meal across long distances, and a fire was built on the premises. These days, this custom is seldom practiced because fewer families have private burial grounds, and most settle for an ancestral hall, home or restaurant.

A sizeable pun choi can feed 10 to 12 people with hefty appetites and is often the only dish on the table. While it can be accompanied by side servings of rice or soup, Prof. Leung calls pun choi the undoubted "main event" of the feast.

These days, a few restaurants serve eat-in or take-away pun choi. The added convenience has made it a welcomed catering solution for large house parties, student gatherings and group events.

And as at most communal meals, there aren't a lot of rules: "It is more than acceptable and polite to dig deep into the bottom of the basin to pick out your favorite items, especially now that we offer guen fai," says the fashion designer Mr. Tang. (Those are clean chopsticks used not for eating, but just for moving food from basin to personal bowl.) "The layers inevitably collapse, and it all becomes a mix in the end."

THE JUDGMENT

"When pun choi is bad, it is very bad," warns Mr. Tang.

The scattershot of items, when clustered together carelessly, can be likened to a disagreeable pile of leftovers -- in other words, slop.

Conversely, when carefully orchestrated, the final composition can create a magical equilibrium of tastes: savory, earthy and robust. "The key is harmony. Everything must taste good when eaten together and that means each item must be well-prepared on its own," he adds.

The time-consuming process of cooking each item separately before it is layered in the basin makes preparing pun choi a rather laborious project, not to be undertaken by a kitchen lightweight and often requiring a day or two of cooking in advance with multiple hands on deck.

The key to an appetizing pun choi is the meat. "The sauce from the braised pork is the backbone of the flavor," Prof. Cheung says. "It is layered on top so that the juices trickle down and season every component in between." The freshness from the seafood and the charcoal accents of roasted poultry add more complex dimensions while the vegetables mellow out the flavors.

And here's a secret among pun-choi connoisseurs: "The best item is the turnip on the bottom-most layer," says the foodie Prof. Leung. "It has sopped up all the lingering sauces from the rest of the ingredients on top."

Finally, every cook touts his or her own set of trusty cooking techniques. Some believe using firewood rather than a gas stove imparts a smoky aroma. Others insist that the secret to a well-developed flavor is to cover the bowl with a lid immediately after taking the bowl off the flame, which allows the ingredients to steep.

THE SOURCES

Tai Wing Wah

Owner Hugo Leung Man-to (a.k.a. Toto) is famous around these parts as the "God of Cookery" for his walled-village cuisine and regular appearances on local TV. His restaurant, one of the largest and most-established in the region, opened in 1975. It was the first to serve pun choi as a signature item, and this helped introduce the dish to mainstream Hong Kong audiences. The restaurant has two branches: one in the New Territories and one in Kowloon.

Koon Wong Mansion, 2-6 Yuen Long On Ning Rd., Yuen Long (852-2476-9888); a 10-to-12-person serving costs HK$900 or HK$1,380 (depending on the types of ingredients included).

1/F Chevalier Commercial Centre, 8 Wang Hoi Rd., Kowloon Bay (852-2148-7773); HK$900 or HK$1,380 for a 10-to-12-person serving.

Tai Foon Hei Restaurant

The 33-year-old eatery is a magnet for lovers of authentic pun choi. Orders must be placed a few hours ahead: The restaurateurs believe pun choi should sit after cooking for a minimum of one hour before it is reheated a second time, so the flavors are enriched and absorbed evenly.

G/F, 76 Kau Yuk Rd., Yuen Long (852-2478-9395); HK$888 for large size (a 10-to-12 person serving); HK$600 for medium size (a four-to-six-person serving); deliveries available to nearby areas.

Ping Shan Pun Choi

Using a secret family recipe passed down from father to son, the pun choi here is declared by many locals to be among the tastiest. It is still prepared using firewood, which is said to impart a unique flavor and allow better control over the cooking temperature.

G/F, 36 Tong Fong Village, Ping Shan, Yuen Long (852-617-8000); HK$850 for large size (a 12-person serving), HK$750 for medium size (a 10-person serving), HK$450 for small size (a six-person serving).


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## hkskyline (Sep 13, 2002)

*A little bit country Yuen Long has retained many of its rural culinary traditions despite rapid urban growth*
4 December 2008
South China Morning Post

In the northwest New Territories lie the alluvial plains of Yuen Long, once a self-contained agricultural centre used for growing rice and vegetables, and raising livestock. In the 1970s, the area's attraction as a market town was lost to mass urban development and a subsequent boom in population.

The district comprises six rural areas dotted with 154 villages. The busiest part of the township is off Castle Peak Road where the modern residential high-rises line Hong Lok, Tai Tong and Fung Lin roads. But despite these eyesores, low-rise establishments that hark back to more modest times are still scattered throughout the area.

This township might only be a speck on the map, but it's loaded with dining choices. There are more than 600 small to mid-size eateries in this area, from dai pai dong and family-run congee stores to dessert houses and restaurants.

The famed Tai Wing Wah Restaurant is the only restaurant in Yuen Long that offers rural wai tsuen choi (walled village cuisine) dishes. Unlike Hakka food, village cuisine relies on seafood and vegetables. In operation since 1998, the 450-seat restaurant is owned and operated by award-winning celebrity chef, Hugo Leung Man-to. The simple interior is littered with media clippings of the portly Leung, who weighs in at 127kg. His reputation means there's always a long queue for dinner.

"Value for money is the rule of the game," says Leung with a smile. "I don't sell expensive food, and our portions are large. My menu features 120 dishes, each costs only HK$52 and I change 20 menu items on a monthly basis based on freshness and seasonal picks.

"The cuisine requires intensive use of homemade sauces and careful preparation - this explains why we have 12 chefs. There is a sense of belonging at this restaurant. Whenever I'm here, I can usually be found socialising in the dining room."

The restaurant's signature dish is chicken in five flavours that requires the poultry to be soaked in virgin (first pressed) soya sauce for 15 minutes, before mixing it with Sichuan pepper, nutmeg, aniseed, cinnamon and tangerine peel. In winter, lamb is also a popular pick and it's available stir-fried or braised with red wine. Don't miss the spicy duck cooked with preserved bean sauce, then steamed and stir-fried before serving.

For more than 80 years, Hang Heung Cake Shop has attracted customers with its freshly-baked lo poh beng (wife cakes), a sweet Cantonese delicacy made with flaky pastry and a candied winter melon filling. As the tale goes, a wife sells herself into servitude in the hope that she can earn enough money to cure her sick husband. Eventually he recovers and creates this delicacy with the intention of using the profits to buy his wife back.

"Today, the tradition of eating wife cakes continues but you don't have to visit Yuen Long because we've got seven other distribution points in places such as Causeway Bay, Tsim Sha Tsui and Sha Tin," says marketing manager, Cecilia Cheung Suk-yee. "We sell about 20,000 wife cakes on a weekday and that figure reaches 30,000 a day during the weekends."

Hang Heung was originally a restaurant that sold wife cakes from its shopfront, but its cake business was so successful its owners turned it into a bakery. It now sells about 40 pastries, including festive mooncakes, spring rolls, almond cakes, dried pork sausages and Chinese cookies. All are baked at a plant nearby.

Hang Heung's decor has changed little since it opened. Its attempt to preserve tradition is reflected in its famous cakes, the price of which has risen by only 50 cents (from HK$3.50 to HK$4) in 10 years.

"Healthy eating means less lard and a lighter taste," says Cheung. "The wife cakes are still prepared by hand and filled with winter-melon. These are not cookie-cutter products."

On the outskirts of Yuen Long town is the 33-year old Pizzeria Giovanni Ristorante Italiano.

When this 100-seat outlet opened, it quickly became a favourite among the British Armed Forces based in Kam Tin and Fanling. "At that time, Yuen Long was still a rural area with a limited choice of cuisine," says the pizzaria's managing director, Luigi Yip Chi-kwong, who worked at the Mandarin Oriental and Peninsula hotels in the 70s.

"For the past 30 years, we've had a successful set-up. Next door we have the Chalet bar, which is connected to the main dining room. In the past the army officers would come for our festive celebrations. We were their 'local'," says Yip.

"Since the handover, we have readjusted our strategy. Today, we cater to local customers who want more variety. Our menu items are translated into Chinese and we launched French and Portuguese specialities that are popular. About 90 per cent of our dishes are Italian."

Much of the food is imported for use in dishes such as their cracker-crisp "house special" pizza, topped with ham, pepperoni, cheese, onion and tomato, but Yip is quick to add they use only fresh seafood. "Each morning, I pick fresh seafood from the market myself."

If you want a lighter meal, head to the Ho To Tai Noodle Shop, that specialises in Cantonese shrimp wonton. Established in 1948, the two-storey shop can accommodate about 100 diners. Best-selling items are the wonton noodles with shrimp eggs and the beef flank noodles. The shop uses imported Canadian flour, and freshness is the key to the noodles' success. On a busy day, Ho To Tai sells more than 1,000 bowls.

Owner Chan Kei-yum explains the meaning behind the brand: "'Ho' means 'good', 'To' symbolises thoughtful service while 'Tai' refers to value for money," says Chan, who used to work as the shop's chef.

Now managing the restaurant and the staff, Chan is happy to stand by and cook when needed. His 75-year-old mother can be found every day behind the cash register. Her sharp mind and gentle smile are part of the shop's attraction for customers.

"We try to introduce new products, such as our recent shrimp egg with turnip addition," says Chan. "Clients are welcome to purchase dried noodles to use in their own recipes at home. In addition to plain egg noodles, the shop also makes spinach, carrot and dried scallop noodles.

Like everywhere else in Hong Kong, urban development is encroaching on traditional life in Yuen Long. But the long history, heritage and varied cuisine continue to attract visitors.

Chef Leung from Tai Wing Wah is happier working here than in a more urban environment.

"The charm of dining in Yuen Long prevails because of the decades-old traditionalat outlets like the wonton noodle shops and dai pai dongs. It's something irreplaceable. In addition to superb products and cooking from the heart, the enthusiastic service makes you feel as if you're part of the family."


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## hkskyline (Sep 13, 2002)

By *靚仔湯美 * from a Hong Kong photography forum :


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## hkskyline (Sep 13, 2002)

Source : http://www.pbase.com/jonathanwg/kamkin


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## hkskyline (Sep 13, 2002)

*Taste of Tai Wai 
In a town where restaurants have tantalised diners for decades, Prudence Lui and Anneliese O'Young savour what's cooking *
30 October 2008
South China Morning Post

Tai Wai, a small town closely connected with Sha Tin, nestles in the shadow of Lion Rock. The hamlet's history dates back to the Ming dynasty when indigenous people built a cluster of fortified villages and called it Chik Chuen Wai. Owing to its close proximity to Shing Mun River, Tai Wai was a glorious sprawl of fertile paddy fields, with urban development slowly encroaching only in the past 30 years.

Today, the original walled village remains almost unchanged, but next to this historical monument is a sprawl of low-density residential buildings. And where there are people, there are restaurants. There's still an array of local independent eateries such as wonton noodle shops and dessert houses, and Shanghainese, Japanese and Thai are also popular choices.

But a couple of establishments have stood the test of time to become iconic destinations for foodies. Fung Lam Restaurant is the grande dame of Tai Wai. Established and run by the Pang family half a century ago, it started off as a family restaurant with six tables in the former Sha Tin old town. In 1977, it moved to its current 400-seat location. Owner Pang Chien-ting, 82, can be found every day holding court behind the cashier counter as he oversees a team of 30 familiar faces who have all worked for him for more than 10 years.

Dining there now is like taking a trip back in time to old Hong Kong. Sturdy teak fixtures such as the chairs, tables, staircases and panels, and the stone fish pond were built 30 years ago by local craftsmen, whose skills are now hard to find.

Signature dishes include chilli pepper prawns, fried stuffed tofu with shrimp paste and braised duck with yam. Don't miss the dumplings in sweet walnut soup, which is made every day with freshly ground nuts.

Pang says: "My head chef has been with us for 40 years. Except for seasonal dishes, we don't change much on the menu. These are all traditional Cantonese dishes that my customers come especially to eat. Our raw ingredients are fresh and basic, but it takes the skill of a chef to mix them and create new combinations. This is what differentiates us from other restaurants."

Fung Lam has built a reputation for its friendly service as well as its food. Regular customers are treated like old friends and Pang says his oldest guests are now coming in with their grandchildren.

Around the corner is a Hakka restaurant, Kong Hing. In contrast to the lavishness of Fung Lam, it's a small, no-frills outlet where the food speaks for itself. Owner and chef Lau Chung-kwong came from the Hakka village Hing Ning in Guangdong province and set up the restaurant with partners 20 years ago. Today, he's the sole owner, with family members helping to run the day-to-day operations.

"We're the only Hakka restaurant in this area and we serve traditional dishes such as salted chicken, sweet preserved vegetable and braised pork belly," he says. "We cook lesser-known dishes such as fish head steamed with tofu, which is a very traditional Hakka family dish but not many restaurants cook it now."

Variety is key to the menu. For example, there are many ways that the restaurant prepares tofu: it's deep-fried, braised, steamed and pan-fried, and served with different ingredients and condiments. Lau says Hakka food is served in big portions and people regard it as good value for money.

With more than 40 years of experience in the kitchen, he's trying to accommodate the trend towards healthier dining. "A strong, oily taste sums up Hakka cuisine but we tend to use less oil and [have a] lighter taste." Although fewer young people are learning the dialect, the restaurant is regularly patronised by clients chatting in Hakka.

The new kid on the block is Calf Bone King which opened its doors last March. A hotpot chain store, the 150-seat outlet is tailor-made for those who treat hotpot seriously and have expectations for quality ingredients.

Manager Roy Chan Chin-pang says the restaurant offers about 100 selections of fresh seafood, meat and vegetables such as oysters, US beef, hand-made chicken balls, squid balls with pâté and a wide range of wild mushrooms.

"Our signature product is the all important soup base for the hotpot which is our own secret recipe. We have chicken stock with shark's fin, hot and spicy Sichuan dishes and even fa diu [rice wine] with Chinese herbal medicine. We've also got a separate sushi counter to provide sashimi," Chan says.

With winter coming, Chan recommends soup bases such as ginseng chicken with fish stock and fish head with beancurd sheet.

A visit would be incomplete if you didn't try a bowl of chicken congee and roasted pigeon - Tai Wai's most famous culinary attraction. This culinary experience is one reason why food lovers make regular pilgrimages to the area.

Sha Tin Chicken Congee restaurant (Keung Kee) is a legend in the district. Founded by Yip Tung-wo in 1980, the restaurant has won territory-wide praise for its chicken congee and pigeon. It's now run by the founder's son, Yip Wing-chi, who has injected some fresh ideas.

"I introduced fresh crab congee two years ago and it's proven to be a new signature dish. I don't use flavour enhancers and the crab is bought daily. We only make 20 bowls a day and they are sold before 10.30pm.

"It's important to keep things fresh and new. My chefs create three or four new dishes each season to woo customers. Competition is keen and we emphasise the quality. For instance, only Australian rice is used to make congee because of the smooth taste; our pigeon is prepared using our family recipe - they're soaked in hot stock for 20 minutes, glazed and then dried for later use. We deep-fry it before serving."

In his search for quality raw ingredients, Yip makes daily trips to pick up fresh supplies. Despite the new dishes on the menu, the famous chicken congee remains popular, and Keung Kee sells more than 100 bowls every day. The restaurant cooks about 4,000 pigeons every month. Other hot dishes include chilli and pepper clams, and deep-fried oyster cake.

With the upgrade of road networks, Tai Wai is now even more accessible to lovers of traditional Chinese cuisine.


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## hkskyline (Sep 13, 2002)

Source : http://www.pbase.com/middlehill/ping_shan_heritage_trail


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