Sing Kee, or 盛記

I realized that I haven't been posting much about my culinary adventures here, except to complain - too much salt, too much meat, too much monosodium glutamate, bad coffee, etc.   I have been woefully negligent in singing the praises of one of the activities (if not THE activity) in which Hong Kong residents find the greatest joy and pleasure: tasty food!

So without further ado, I now wax rhapsodic about Sing Kee, one of the few remaining dai pai dongs left in Hong Kong.  Outdoors, the mismatched wooden tables litter the sidewalk and tiny stools allow patrons to cram almost 8 or 10 to a table. Indoors, fluorescent lights and wet concrete floors beckon.  Service is brusque but not rude.  Currently, this is one of my favorite places to eat.

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Image courtesy of OpenRice

Now onto the culinary delights, in pictures:

Refreshing brew to start.  Note the buckets of dirty dishes and slop in the background.

Soup of the day, cooked for hours on end.

Crock pot and massive soup ladle used to cook the aforesaid soup.

Tender sweet and sour fried chicken with pineapple chunks.  Michael's favorite.

Pork ribs with bitter melon in black bean sauce.
This was so delicious I forgot to take the picture until I'd devoured half the dish.

Fish head with tofu, shredded pork and cilantro.
And, yes... that is the eyeball.  

Dai pai dongs are a fascinating piece of Hong Kong history but unfortunately, also a disappearing cultural phenomenon.  These open air food stalls are characterized by steel tin walls painted green, a haphazard atmosphere, and delicious local cuisine.  According to Wikipedia, after WWII, the government issued licenses to families of deceased and injured civil servants that allowed them to operate food stalls in public.  The license was physically larger than the ones normally issued - hence the name "dai pai dong", which is literally, "large license".  

Unfortunately, it seems that the dai pai dongs' popularity contributed to their demise - they caused street congestion, and hygiene and sanitation posed growing concerns.  In response, the government stopped issuing these licenses in 1956 and limited their transfer.  Now, the licenses can no longer be inherited and may only be passed on to the spouse of the licensee upon his death.  As a result, as of today, there are only 28 dai pai dongs remaining in all of Hong Kong.