There is something that is always fascinating to us about foreign markets. Bill called them "wet markets" -- a term I hadn't heard. It's much simpler than it sounds -- a "wet market" is called thus because, in watering the fruit and vegetables often, the ground is. . .wet! (Thus endeth your lesson for today)!
We weaved through one just past the Instagram court, and I was furiously snapping pictures. Three things go through my mind in markets:
1. "This is cool and never gets old."
2. "There are great pictures everywhere you turn."
and, last but not least
3. "The health rules here are pretty loosey goosey!
It's what's for dinner.
Dumpling heaven.
The fruit and vegetables here are huge and
look perfect. Puts Whole Foods to shaje
Guy cutting meat -- always a market photo staple.
The fish, the scale -- what else
does a shopkeeper need?
Now that corn on the cob is impressive -- and it's not even August!
Another butcher shop.
The guy looks like he's using
the meat for camouflage.
A typical restaurant, with a well-established
squatter house up top.
One thing Carol and I quickly realized is that we would not have found these places on our own. Our decision to hire Bill paid off big-time, as we wound through markets and backstreets that are not in the guide books.
We stopped at one point in a small family owned cafe. Bill asked if we want the best French toast in the world. Seemed like a boast -- after all, most French toast is bread that is done French-style -- ergo you've had one, you get the idea. I will say that Carol's French toast is still the best, but Hong Kong-style French toast is pretty darn good.
(For those saying I'm overselling Carol's French toast, first of all, it is really good. Secondly, it never hurts to apply some Mark Twain in your life -- "There are only three kinds of people susceptible to flattery -- men, women, and children.").
The restaurant is a little place, and was jammed with a handful of families having lunch. The French Toast is served as a stack of three, with two layers of peanut butter connecting the three slices. Bill then poured honey on top.
As someone who is not a huge fan of honey, I had my doubts. The first bite was okay as I got used to it, but each additional bite was fabulous. Carol is going to try this at home -- you all are welcome to come by and see for yourself! (I have to keep her off-balance -- after being nice, I then have to blow her mind with open invitation of breakfast for 300 or so readers).
Sorry, I'm not one to take photos of my food (I am sure you can comb the blog and find some, but not many). But I do wish I had -- Hong Kong-style French Toast is a very simple pleasure in life.
The part that threw me was when we arrived and sat, the waitress put three glasses of water down. Except the water was steaming hot. Sorry, with the exception of hot chocolate two-three times per winter, I don't drink hot drinks. Not tea, not coffee, certainly not steaming water. Bill had them bring me a cup of water with ice.
Apparently it is a health thing -- ying and yang of health is that the body should not be too hot nor too cold. And, usually hot water is seen as healthier than cold water. I'm not an expert in Eastern medical thought (or, for the matter, Western medical thought), but I do like my water cold. After all, Jennifer Minnis, I'm NOT British! (To be fair to the Brits, which you no longer have to do in Hong Kong, they like their water room temperature, while this was probably too hot for them!).
