What Hong Kong Tastes Like: A City in Eight Meals
When I think about growing up in Hong Kong, I see the view from our childhood living room window, which overlooked its dense verdant hills when the weather permitted, and a muggy grey expanse when on jubilant typhoon days, it didn’t. I feel the white-knuckling jolt of the mini bus as it haphazardly ferried uniformed high schoolers into the city’s cha chaan teng (茶餐廳)-peppered depths; and getting sand off my feet before returning to the backseat of our baking car after afternoons at the beach. But more than anything, I think about eating.
The Power of Paraboot
Much has been written about the emergence of the ‘post-sneaker world’ - a sense that the tyranny trainers have wrought on men’s style is at last under threat from the resurgent power of loafers, oxfords and other classically formal designs - but no shoe embodies the fight like Paraboot’s Michael lace-up. Over the past few years, the low-profile, two-eyelet shoe has not only become the official shoe of menswear dudes, but an if-you-know-you-know emblem of good taste.
A Postcard from Hong Kong
Happy Valley isn’t Cheltenham. Opened in 1845, a metropolis has been conjured around it, floodlights illuminating horses, jockeys and pilgrims who descend every Wednesday for a chance to bet, cheer or just hang out. Hong Kong’s towering skyline visible from every angle. Old regulars in worn baseball caps hunch over newspapers and press radios close to their ears, pouring over odds. We opt for names that stand out: Strongest Boy and Can’t Go Wong which, it turns, out can go wrong… not that we mind too much.
Editors Picks
