Every Sunday we would join two other
families for dim sum in Bayswater. No roasties, Yorkshire puds or apple
pie for me...just noodles, har gau and custard buns. What a drag.
There's
something about those Sunday rituals which makes dim sum so special.
Even when my brother and I were really young we were allowed in the
restaurant (stuffing noodles in our mouths and playing with our toys
under the table wasn't just restricted to our house apparently), and I
think that really was the start of my education and passion for
restaurants and social eating.
I
dedicate this post to my Grandmother, who sadly passed away this week.
She was a strong woman who looked after her family with much love. My
mum is extremely lucky to have been raised by her. I would only see
grandma every few years or so, but the one thing I remember most about
her and my grandfather was that we would always go visit her in the same
restaurant in Shatin. I remember it for two reasons...the way the staff
treated my grandparents like they were their own family (right down to
knowing what to order for them) and also the fact we had to pass the
Snoopy park every time...amazing. It was probably the most frequented
restaurant I ever went to in Hong Kong. Not the best food, but what the
restaurant stood for was much more significant. I've been extremely
lucky to have known all my grandparents for a long time. It's amazing
how a simple lunch ritual can hold such meaning and so many memories.
