I had no intentions of going to Hong Kong. I admit I was grateful for the opportunity when I was rerouted through there on my way to Cairns, Australia during the Great Qantas Strike of 2011. I had just spent two nights in the Irvine, California Marriott with a lot of raucous Aussies who were also grounded with our cancelled flight. The Australain national slogan of "No Worries" was all around me as we all made the best of a bad situation. Australians had, afterall, founded their entire country on that premise.
I love airports and Hong Kong’s massive, sleek and fastidiously clean port of flight was no exception. In fact, it was more the rule. It was just about the most impressive airport I had ever been in.
After making determinations regarding my next flight out, my first question to one of the many kind and accommodating information specialists was, “Where are the restaurants?” She replied, “About ten minutes walk and upstairs down that corridor there.” After fourteen hours on a trans-Pacific flight, I could use that walk.
I arrived at a food court situation where you could unfortunately get McDonalds. After shaking my head at the line of obese people standing in front of it, I turned a one eighty to view the options behind me. There were a number of places to choose from.
I read all the lit up menus on the wall with their accompanying pictures. I adore the Asian propensity to provide a visual of what the plate may look like. As I scanned them, I ruled out all breaded, fried, pot sticker, fish ball, dim sum looking foodstuffs for their glutenous makeup. There were lovely curries, rice noodle soups, barbecued pork, goose, beef, and vegetarian options available.
I settled on beef brisket rice noodle soup. As I waited in line, I turned to the couple behind me and began to chat with them. They were from Melbourne, Australia. When it was my turn to order and I went to pay, I learned that credit cards were not accepted. Totally unprepared for Hong Kong dollars, I closed my wallet and began to walk away when I heard the Aussie behind me say, “Here’s some money, let me pay for your dinner.” I turned to her and cracked a big grateful smile and accepted her offer.
I sat with this lovely couple as we chatted about our lives and shared what turned out to be the best airport food I ever consumed. Michelle and Ian Harris had moved to Melbourne from South Africa several decades ago and loved it there. Michelle had a delicious chicken curry that elicited a deep breath with closed eyes. That unmistakable expression of culinary pleasure. Ian had a delicious vegetarian dish and my beef brisket rice noodle soup was better than anything of its kind I had consumed in the states.
The beef was incredibly tender and popping with flavor. It tasted so much better than beef I have had in the states. While the marinade was sweet and a little spicy, the meat itself was richly delicious and was not overpowered by the spices. The broth was not overly salted like so many broths are in Asian restaurants. The noodles were also slightly different in taste with a stronger rice flavor. I was a very happy woman.
I will always be grateful to Ian and Michelle for providing such a delicious meal and for their company in Hong Kong. I meet nice and lovely people everywhere I go but in only two days of meeting lots of Australians, I felt I had met some of the most gracious, fun and lovely people in the world and I hadn’t even arrived yet.
