Fast food in Hong Kong
Thu, 2008-11-06 09:00 — Mr Tall
We’ve all seen those lists: ‘You know you’re a redneck when . . .’ or ‘You know you’ve been abducted, probed and brainwashed by aliens when . . .’, and so on.

Well, I’ve got an entry in the ‘You know you’ve been an expat in Hong Kong for long time when . . .’ list. That is: ‘I know I’ve been in Hong Kong for a long time when I get excited by the prospect of going to Fairwood Fast Food for a weekend breakfast.’

No, really!

Those of you who have lived here for a while have surely come across a Fairwood franchise – or one of its competitors, i.e. Café de Coral and Maxim’s – and may have thought ‘Ugh. Chinese McDonald’s, at best! Stay far, far, away . . .’.

For many years, this was exactly my stance. I was taken to a Fairwood by my students during my first stay in Hong Kong in 1988, and it was a memorable culinary experience. I am still trying very hard, in fact, to forget it. So even if the exquisitely refined and highly discriminating Mrs Tall suggested we grab a quick bite at a local fast food chain, I wouldn’t hear of it.

Things have changed. I discovered that on one Sunday morning when I needed to go to church earlier than they did, Mrs Tall and Daughter Tall, those two miserable schemers, sneaked over to our local Fairwood for breakfast.

This pattern – which soon was repeating – led to a breakthrough. By breaching the cold, stony fortifications of my culinary heart with their tearful entreaties – and also by threatening to abandon me at home alone so that I could enjoy my solitary bowl of muesli, by myself, in isolation – my wife and daughter convinced me to give local fast food one more chance.

And I was pleasantly surprised. I ordered a nice set comprising two eggs, sunny-side up; a thick slice of toast; a slightly dodgy-looking but okay-tasting chicken filet; and a cup of passable coffee with milk. The cost? Twenty-five dollars or so -- the whole set costs less than a coffee at Starbucks or Pacific Coffee.

Since that memorable morning, we Talls have become quite regular Fairwood customers, eating there once every couple of weeks or so. This is mostly a function of the frustrating lack of restaurants in my neighborhood, but it’s really no hardship. I think Fairwood's breakfasts are better than their lunch/dinner meals, but those meals still have decent options. I like their curries, and the ‘dead things on rice’ (e.g. cha siu, roasted chicken, etc.) is reliable, too. Daughter Tall has become a fan of their spaghetti bolognaise – although this one tastes to me like an weird hybrid between actual bolognaise sauce and American-style chili con carne (it even has kidney beans), she loves it. And since prices are so cheap, it’s hard to be too critical.

I also don’t mind eating at Maxim’s; if anything, they’re a bit up the scale from Fairwood. But Café de Coral still puts me off. There’s something creepy about their food’s appearance – their dishes look like competently-executed plastic models (like the ones in the windows in Japanese restaurants) that have inexplicably sprung to quivering, unwholesome life.

If you’re looking to make your own move into this exciting food and beverage arena, I’ve got some advice for you. There are a couple of challenges to eating at local fast food chains that you’ve got to be ready to meet.

First, you have to find a seat. Our local Fairwood on a Sunday morning at 10:00 looks like Pamplona as the bulls round the corner into the Plaza de Toros. Needless to say, every table is occupied, and there’s bound to be a huge line at the cash registers where you place your orders. The last thing you want is to order your food, line up again to pick it up, then stand there looking pole-axed, forlornly clutching your tray full of rapidly-cooling food as you search in vain for a table.

What’s needed, clearly, is a strategy. Here’s how the Family Tall handles this sticky problem:

First, a clear demarcation and execution of roles:

Daughter Tall, who glories in fearless search-and-seize commando ops, finds us a table. I doubt there’s a quality in a child that’s more valuable than being able to stomp up to a table occupied by a paper-perusing uncle with just a quarter-glass of lai cha in front of him, then plop down in the seat across the table and engage him in cute but quickly irritating conversation that compels him to fold up his paper and get the heck out.
Mrs Tall, our most organized and knowledgeable officer (i.e. she knows what all team members want to eat), lines up at the cash register, orders, and obtains the little receipt tickets needed for presentation at the food service counter. (Note that the wall-mounted menu has English translations, so there are no serious problems for a non-Chinese speaker who’s willing to point.)
Yours truly, who is, in his wife’s words, ‘very bulky’, immediately steps into the food service counter line, where he performs his placeholding function with stout-hearted determination.
With all members doing their jobs, we’ve usually got food on the table in 10 minutes or so.

The second big obstacle to dining comfort at Fairwood is orange. That is, in its current corporate image scheme, Fairwood features an orange logo, orange upholstery, orange walls and ceilings, and orange uniforms for all staff. And it’s a bright, mercilessly cheerful orange. I’ve made my peace with orange, but if you’re a purple person, for example, you may find Fairwood visually uncongenial. Fortunately, I have seen no evidence that Fairwood is attempting to apply its color scheme to the food itself. Café de Coral has less-antagonizing but dull color scheme based mostly on brown, and MX – well, have a look here.(source:batgung.com)