Where’s the Chicken?

These chewy savoury traditional Cantonese snacks are a delight. Amicably known as 鷄仔餅 “gai chai pheng” or its literal translation: little chicken cakes or little chicken pies, this is among my childhood favourites.

What always astounds me though, is the absence of chicken. Unlike chicken crackers, it doesn’t even boast to be “chicken flavoured”. Apparently, the first gai chai pheng was made by a creative maid servant. Hearsay, this young woman used some left over dough, added in some lard, Chinese spices, and soy sauce… popped it into a stove and voila!

But but but… where is the chicken?!
Maybe that isn’t even the core theme to the history of gai chai pheng.

Some time in the mid 1800s, a young maid servant girl invented what is to be this popular goodie…. Today, gai chai pheng is synonymous with Cantonese pastries. This creation transcended boundaries; its recipe travelled to wherever Chinese communities settle on this globe.

How it became this big, I have zero inkling.
Legend says that this young servant girl was plain lucky that the cook was out when her master’s honorable guests dropped by. As a servant, it was natural for her to quickly ensure that the guests were well taken care of: being served food and drinks. There was nothing much in the kitchen but ingredients to make her humble petit pastry. To her amazement, it was extremely well received, and later went on to be the talk of the town.

While a certain online encyclopaedia claims gai chai pheng is an accidental recipe, I believe otherwise. It sounds too far-fetched to be an accident if the guests were that deeply impressed.

According to Malcolm Gladwell, the prerequisite to great success is putting in 10,000 hours of practice into a specific task. The cakes served to the guests must have had been perfect in texture and taste… and so well-made that the soy sauce didn’t burn, instead caramelised beautifully.

With that, I think the real story behind the birth of gai chai pheng is all about one’s diligence and intelligence. Without which, there would be no gai chai pheng to begin with. Let alone passing down the recipe from generation to generation, even to its current status as the star edible-souvenir from Guangzhou.

As for the missing chicken… well, I don’t think it’s that important anymore.

Weaving Through The Pre-CNY Flower Market (花市)

Dramas in the MTR

The MTR ride often surprises. I’ve often been amused and sometimes appalled even embarrassed at the various scenes in the carriages:

(i) A girl slapped her boyfriend in the midst of a heated argument.

(ii) A boycouldn’t get his hands off his girlfriend (and with this, I mean inappropriate PDA).

(iii) An elderly played religious chants loudly on his small radio.

(iv) A grandparent stood while her grandchild sat.

(v) A strange man snapping pictures of female passengers with his smart phone.

(vi) A middle aged woman stood between the doors, thinking it would keep the door held open longer.

(vii) A young woman who tried to get onto the train, forced open the door as the doors were closing. (There’s a train every 2 minutes)

(viii) An elderly lady, seemingly with leg problem brought her own foldable stoo (and true enough, nobody gave up their seats even though she was very old!)

Have you seen anything interesting on the public transport lately?

100 Days in HK: Re-discovering Self

I’ve made many new friends. But, have also said goodbye to many within this 100 days. I’ve never been to so many welcome parties and farewells in such a short time span!

Hong Kong is a transit point for many. Some here to work, some to do soul searching; all who came grew up and made good friends — whether they stayed on or decided to leave. 

There was an Australian lawyer who stopped by and found what he wanted for his career. He left for Melbourne. There was a Londoner who thought Hong Kong corporate life wasn’t his cup of tea.  He left for a job that fitted him better back in the UK. A Singaporean who preferred orderly Lion City (as opposed to edgy, chaotic Hong Kong) went back to school in the sunny island.  A retired Brit couple decided they’re not too old to pick up some Mandarin. They too left.

I also came to know an Australian engineer who thinks that it is more meaningful to teach than to build a multi-million machine. He stays.  A Chinese who wants a to see a different China, and decided against Shanghai and chose Hong Kong. She stays. An Indonesian sous chef who keeps on finding inspirations in the city. He stays. A Masters in Economics fell in love with special children and now is aiming for a degree in Special Education. He too stays.

As for me, I’m still figuring out….

It is easy to lose oneself in the dizzyingly busy city… get carried away by the hustle and bustle without knowing what one wants in life, distinguishing between what really matters and what doesn’t.

Work may have brought me here, but it shouldn’t stop there. I’m getting my hands dirty and on my way to learn more about myself.

And the Dumpsite Holds Them All

My friend shook his head when I tossed a PET bottle into a recycle bin.

Friend: Do you know where the segregated paper, plastic and glass all go after this? The SAME dumpsite.

Me: Huh?

Friend: The efforts to make Hong Kong green is only superficial. The truth is no so rosy. It makes no difference at the end of the day whether you, an individual, segregate your trash or not. There ain’t such thing as “recycling”. Everything goes to the dumpsite.

Me: *incredulous* What’s the point if only the  people are putting in all the efforts to make Hong Kong a sustainable city, and the government doesn’t care beyond that?!

Friend: *matter-of-factly* Well, welcome to Hong Kong.