Sunday began with dim sum. It continued with a leisurely afternoon at the horse races — as any Sunday should.
First, the dim sum at Luk Yu Teahouse. Since opening in 1933 in the Central district of Hong Kong, Luk Yu has become something of an institution and a notorious haunt for mobsters. In 2002, the local businessman Harry Lam Hon-lit was shot dead here at point-blank by a hitman hired by a triad boss.
Despite the potential dangers to eating here, the place attracts throngs of Western and Asian tourists, although Howard and I quickly agreed that we’ve had better dim sum at the Chinatowns in Manhattan and Queens. Luk Yu was not bad. I enjoyed the fluffy pork buns and shrimp wantons (though I wasn’t such a fan of the liver-encased beef balls). The small menu just lacked the pizzaz of a place like Jing Fong on Manhattan’s Elizabeth Street with its hundreds of carts wheeling a menagerie of colorful sum options.
Done with Luk Yu, we headed to what I would ordinarily avoid at all costs: the shopping mall food court. Hong Kong’s massive indoor malls hold some of the city’s best food options, including a Michelin star dim sum shop called Tim Ho Wan.
So popular is the place that at 2pm on a Sunday afternoon a crowd of 30 people waited outside the 45-seat restaurant, which was already packed elbow-to-elbow with people chowing down on their signature pastry bun: stuffed with barbecue pork and slightly sweet on the inside, slightly crispy on the outside.
Full, we were off to the races. Sha Tin Racecourse is one of two horse tracks in the city both remnants of British colonialism. The scene is perfectly multicultural: Britain’s stodgy and formal equestrian culture mixing with China’s chaotic and cacophonous gambling obsession. Small European jockeys hunched atop Chinese-owned horses while thousands of Hong Kong locals sat in the grandstands chain-smoking Marlboro’s and hunched over Chinese-language racing pamphlets trying to glean insights on the horses’ win stats.
We stayed for three races. I considered this a work-related continuing education. After all, I do report on gaming and casinos, which was why I was in Hong Kong to begin with. Seems prudent to experience first-hand the gaming opportunities enjoyed by locals, right?
The first race, I lost 40 HKD (about $2.50) by mistakingly betting on two different horses to win. Not the smartest bet.
The second race, I came out ahead 10 HKD when my underdog horse placed in the top three.
The last race, I gave the bookie 40 HKD (about $2.50) for bets on horses #4 and #6 to each place in the top three. The photo below is my lucky horse #6 making a celebratory trot around the racetrack after placing first in the field of 10.
In the end, I made about 10 HKD ($1). (Which was much much better than I’d fare days later in the worldwide gambling capital, Macau.) How to spend my winnings? On dumplings at Tim Ho Wan, of course!
We took the metro back to Kowloon and weaved through the crowds of Mong Kok district to the location of the original Tim Ho Wan, only to find it had relocated to a bigger building. Everybody loves those pork dumplings. Hong Kong is a megatropolis of travelers and migrants and businessmen and opportunists, and I’m finding that decent restaurants here — like Tim Ho Wan — can quickly attract a rabid following and outgrow themselves.
