在食評多次提到，簡單有很多時候的確是最好的．有變化當然是好，但連基本的也搞不好，怎變也好不了多少．所以簡單為本也真是重要．那當然要做得簡單又做得好又keep到是不容易的．中環開了間名為’Simplicity’的法式薄餅店，是在灣仔La Creperie之前開的．店子地點很不錯，內在環境光猛,但坐的位置不多，Bar枱位置反而比較舒服. 開放式的廚房雖可以看到薄餅(Crepes)的製作過程，但抽風系統不是太理想，人多的時候小店裡是挺熱的．

說到sweet crepes, 其實有個set, $58有一款甜薄餅加咖啡或茶．款式可在menu上選擇．是日想對自己好一點，要另加錢要了雪糕和Cappuccino. 至於款式則要了"Apple and Almond"內有煮過的蘋果，焦糖，甜奶油和微微烤過的杏仁片．上桌的時候時幾surprise的．一塊大而薄的甜薄餅摺疊兩下成了三角，不像日式甜薄餅的淺黃色．質感亦較挺身．雖然是現叫現做的，但薄餅的餘溫竟然不足以令雪糕球溶化.香草雪糕是比較甜了點，餅身是少少脆，圓形邊比較乾身．餡料不多，蘋果經煮過後變軟身，帶一點肉桂香，甜味本身很輕，少量焦糖加上甜奶油也不覺甜膩，反而覺得杏仁不夠脆身．整體加上雪糕一冷一熱還是可以的．

隨餐的Cappuccino奶泡打得不夠滑，是有點'求其’，咖啡本身味道不很濃．加了熱奶更加淡了．但想起做薄餅和沖咖啡的是同一人，在'一腳踢'的時候做到這個水準也算ok,來這裡的時候La Creperie還沒有開業. 但這裡薄餅的質感是有點’實’，而甜的跟鹹的也沒有太大的分別．款式也太多了，反而忽略了薄餅本身的質素. 要吃點好的，還是會去灣仔那處..

有食友看見我寫的食評, 打電話來問: "你怎樣記著寫了什麼? 那麼長, 那麼多細節,(還是)那麼長. 一大篇英文的!"沒多久，最後朋友還是放棄了．

是的，一大篇英文的確是有點難讀的，小弟近來學寫中文了，其實也不是這麼難的，難的有時候在於描寫與’技術性’的名詞方面難於處理．說實在的，英文也有難處．說"Holly Cow"跟"Holy Cow"沒關係是沒有人信的，奈何為何直接叫"Holy Cow"不就行了?　後來才發現有間在銅鑼灣的小店叫holy cow, 賣的也是Froyo. 多了一個L, 也不是太難記，只要不和少L的相題並論就行了!

Holly Cow的Frozen Yogurt在尖東也是挺受歡迎的, 要了大杯的Frozen Yogurt ($32)有兩個topping. 在櫃子這裡看見比較特別的Grapefruit, 於是要了紅色的那款，並要了Aloe．Yogurt是比較挺身的，比同區ROLL的較硬身，但好處是不易溶和”襟吃”點．味道是少了酸味，西柚看得出是慢慢起肉再去皮去衣的．是一點點的紅色果肉，不失應有的苦澀．Aloe是糖水浸的，不怎特別，是貪玩要了.　整體味道還是可以的．

小店的冷氣幾大的，邊吃著Frozen Yogurt在內也會覺涼的. 還是在外邊行邊吃的好．

當工作需要'周圍走'的時候,很容易忘了吃飯. 是的,連日夜都想著吃的人都會忘了要吃的時候. 一朝到晚做的沒完沒了, 說是煩的,但畢竟是自己喜愛的,再苦的也有樂事. 只是偶爾遇著不快的事情, 想找個朋友訴訴苦,"呻一呻", 又是繼續的搏殺. 這晚收工時已是十一時許, 在西環也沒多少店子肯做生意. 上巴士到銅鑼灣再吃也太晚了, 跟朋友在附近的'祥興'吃吧. 這corner shop經過幾次, 但總沒有進去. 趁天氣不怎麼熱的夜晚去試試.

坐下看看牆上的餐牌, 先要了淨水餃 ($16), 叫了不用5分鐘上桌, 熱騰騰的, 水餃算是大隻的,但薄皮之餘反而是太鬆了. 滾得快爛了.咬開肉汁是有的, 夠味亦不太鹹. 豬肉,冬菇跟蝦肉的份量相約. 但最好吃的反而是下面白白的芽菜, 挺嫩還脆口的. 跟朋友分吃了水餃, 再來一碗麵吧, 要了雙拚的魚餃魚扎河 ($16). 魚皮餃不腥, 但問題跟水餃一樣, 是"半解體"狀. 味道也有點鹹. 這陣子要吃好吃的魚扎難找. 不好吃的比比皆是. 這裡的不算難吃, 但肯定不算好吃的. 在碗內找了半天都找不到魚扎的"餡"...是空心魚扎乎? 魚肉有點鬆, 也不像有魚肉味. 河粉是一堆很腍的粉, 浸腍了, 但碗子的細小裝不下多少湯. 於是有的湯都很快給河粉吸乾了.

吃得飽飽的,才不過半小時, 明天還是要努力, 再衝過...

I always thought that Popeye's Spinach is a smart marketing strategy to get children to eat spinach, or for that matter, any vegetables at all -- There may be some nutritional references lying somewhere. It's a wonder why a store named Popeye has no spinach dishes at all. But for a famous shop that sells Southern (Southern part of the States) food, featuring Fried Chicken and Biscuits, I've had some pretty good chicken pieces there, but not in Hong Kong.

Biscuits, however, remained something dear to my heart. Buttermilk biscuits are supposed to be fluffy and moist inside, with a whiff of buttery aroma exploding into the air as one tears a biscuit apart. On a trip to the airport for work, I walked past Popeyes with equal part of thrill and expectation, to re-enter the realm of biscuit butteriness. I stopped right at the entrance, not sure if I was up for that, or was I setting myself up for some sort of disappointment?

Ordering a box of biscuits was easy -- packing them into a small enough box wasn't. After considerable tucking in, the biscuits all settled in. Popeyes served no jams, only to be replaced by packets of honey. Squeezing the amber gel onto freshly packaged biscuits, the feathery inside of the biscuit was flavored with butter, but ever so light in texture. It's extra sweet with the addition of honey, but frankly it needed no more than a quick bite into the great biscuit. The chicken may not be as good as the ones served in the States, but the biscuits kept the standards on the other side of the world.

So no, there was no disappointment on the biscuits alone, and looking over at some tourists munching into giant pieces of deep-golden crunchy fried chicken and frowned, I felt lucky enough to have just the biscuits, as I considered the better half of Popeyes, at least here in Hong Kong it is.

Luxury Brands developing a more affordable line of clothing or accessories seems like a good way to expand its market, or target audience, After all, fashion magazines are becoming more popular among audience at increasingly younger age groups, 'Style at every age' is finally being realized, and while trendsetters may not want to admit, it's great to see that those who think they can create styles, or influence their change with details and trends, are developing variations or alternatives to reach a larger mass. It doesn't just happen in fashion, clearly, to food as well.

Lei Bistro is the latest line for the Lei Garden Restaurant chains. With affordability and casual atmosphere in mind, the first establishment opened in Causeway Bay, right at the basement of Times Square, where the hungry traffic is huge throughout the day. If there is one thing about Lei Bistro that goes hand in hand with its luxury counterparts, it's the need for reservations. You need one to get in, unless you don't mind waiting outside. But then if you don't mind waiting, there are a few things you shouldn't mind when you get there -- the ambience, service, and food quality, three of the most obvious elements in a restaurant's visit.

Without further judgment, Lei Bistro is more laid-back, but that also involves the owners trying to maximize their already narrow dining space with more tables, each closer to each other. The lack of elbow room also evolves into having your next table neighbors eavesdropping into your conversation, or not, because the place is a hub of noise -- you may not be able to hear what the others are talking about, or for that matter, the person right opposite you.

The menu is decidedly mixed -- and much similar to the case in many restaurants trying to be more than they can be, no matter what brand the restaurant's developed from, Lei Bistro is trying very hard to change that. It's signature 冰燒三層肉 can be sold out early afternoon. The quality wasn't bad, but for a signature product to be in such short supply is an alarming fact -- were they trying to make it look more popular than it does? 油炆筍尖 are not very thin bamboo shoots, braised in plenty of brown sauce which is overseasoned and over-glazed. The slim bamboo shoots went from crunchy to soggy, with what may be an overdose of oyster sauce in the marinade they're cooked in. 蜜汁火方 (配蝴蝶包) is a failed attempt for a well established brand to redeem itself. The ham, despite softened through repeated steaming, was soft with bits of fat still clinging on each slice, the honey sauce it's cooked in was truly too sweet, almost like biting into a hunk of ham followed by 10 repeated licks of an artificial-sweetener-laden lollipop. It's so sweet it tasted fake. The "butterfly buns" were soft, and what's up with the deep-fried soybean sheets that went with? Can they be any less generous about it? (despite them being crunchy throughout)

The only thing 'dirty' about 荷香蒸污糟雞 is its name. Bony chunks of marinated chicken steamed inside a lotus leaf parcel with red jujubes, shreds of preserved mustard tubers, and dried shiitaki mushrooms were tender and juicy, with a strong welcoming aroma of lotus leaf in every bite of the chicken, if only the dish could be less oily -- the chicken was sitting in a shallow pool of oil. 故鄉濃茶燻釜米鴨 came from the barbecued department. It fell right into the deadly mistake as the smoky flavour overrode everything else. The duck no longer took on any flavour other than a slightly burnt taste. If you try to tell me the duck was smoked to death, I would've believe you too -- the smokiness truly was too much, even for someone who loves tea dearly!

韭黃炒鱔糊 came in a small portion, but that usually didn't matter, but instead you can find more chives than eel, which came in dark miniature curls that were slightly too tough. The chives were too tough though and grassy to taste. 飄香荷葉飯 is the only dish we couldn't complain -- the full lotus leaf parcel was packed with moist rice granules, while bits of dried shiitaki mushrooms and chicken bits were perfectly diced and moist. The aroma of lotus leaf was strong but not too dominating. If there was anything, the serving portion was way too big for this one, as a group of three each had 2 bowls full. Desserts are not a strong suit here, but claiming originality is Lei Bistro's 楊枝甘露. Being original is one thing, being up to par is another. This concoction was too thin and too sweet. Despite featuring chunks of mangoes with translucent pearls of tapioca, the shreds of pomelo were too tough and bitter to taste. It was truly disappointing to think that the restaurant which created the same dessert could differ so much from the original restaurant, is it what restaurants are trying to do -- toning down the prices by lowering the quality of their food?

Food quality aside, for any brand intending to keep its reputation, a keen eye on the management is important. It took forever for anyone to get their teacups refilled, to a point that diners wanted to refill by themselves. The service staff seemed to be in a rush walking around trying to be accomodating instead of actually doing it. It's equally a pain to see that despite the placemats are artfully designed, some of the plates and bowls were already chipped (please see image) despite the restaurant has opened for no more than a few weeks. To claim that a restaurant group is trying to reach a wider target audience by lowering the prices is fine, but to lower the quality of anything that goes out of the kitchen isn't. The food isn't all bad, but it's the careless bits here and there that makes diners wish that they'd been in the original Lei Garden Restaurants instead, as one couldn't help but wonder, when the new Lei Garden opens later this year in the same building, will the bistro be as popular as now?

Back in the day of videogames, there were game packs, one of those packs that contain several, if not more than 10 games all compressed into one game (gamers can choose which one to play) It often felt like all the good games were on their own, and the crappy ones got into these compilations, as if the companies are trying to sell them out without having to invest money in their own game. These games, often overlooked, are generally not very good -- much attention has been focused elsewhere.

A similar situation goes into dining, I found, that when restaurants are trying to accomplish too much in one sitting, it often compromises the quality of food turned out from the kitchen. Why trying to have Korean, Japanese and Thai all under one same roof when you can perfect Korean or Japanese or Thai all on its own? Yes, it certainly attracts certain kind of crowds, but to many who gain knowledge of what good ethnic cuisine can be, the in-betweens are slowly disappearing, replaced by folks who feel more conscious about what they serve. Shouldn't that be good news?

But here were, at 湘川滬 right at the Kwai Tsing Theatre. It looked the part of a traditional restaurant along the lines of Shanghaineses -- cooks are at the front kneading dough and making dumplings. The restaurant takes up a big space, as we settled along the booths by the windows. We didn't feel for soup-filled dumplings, and out of three regions in its name, we focused a little bit elsewhere.

Chicken in hot chili sauce (重慶口水雞, $60) has such a generic name that the owners did not even attempt to mention Chongqing in it (as indicated in its Chinese name). The dish, a dome of arranged bony chicken pieces, were laden with a garlic-based chili sauce. It didn't feel very hot to our standards, but then neither were the Sichuan peppercorns. There was a faint flavour there, but it didn't manage to numb any of our senses. It was slightly disappointing, but gnawing on the bony bits as the chicken was tender and the marinade has been well absorbed, it wasn't the end of the world, we figured.

Sliced Beef in Spicy and Red Chili Soup (天府水煮牛肉, $88) had that stunning image similar to that of a 水煮魚 (Sliced fish version of the dish). The dried red chilies are all there, and so is the stinging heat and the strong punch of Sichuan peppercorn formerly expected in the chicken dish earlier. This dish, soupy with an abundance of chilies and mung bean sprouts, also featured slices of beef, unfortunately fell into the category of "tenderized". It didn't taste like beef at all, so soft, almost to "meltingly rich". One would've preferred beef to taste scrumptious like beef, but this one didn't, but the other ingredients, like the batons of cucumber and the bean sprouts, were great in the chili broth.

Soup Noodles with Spicy Peanut sauce (担担麵, $23) looked the part, and as we bathed ourselves into a whiff of aroma from the noodles, we were expecting peanuts, or a potent dose of nuts and chilies and heat. This noodle soup wasn't quite near it. In fact, it was faintly nutty, and the noodles were overcooked into a hot mess. It tasted more like a 煨麵, except that the texture wasn't there yet. One can still use chopsticks for this.

Panfried Assorted Meat Dumplings (三鮮鍋貼, 4pcs/$25) were disappointing. The filling was juicy enough, but the wrapper was too thick and doughy at the top, with the pleated crown slightly undercooked (starchy), while the base had enough browning, but it was also very hard, not a light crunch at all. Rounding up the meal we chose the Panfried Glutinous Rice with Assorted Dates (煎8寶飯, $48) It's by far the one and only dish we couldn't find obvious faults in. The dried fruits and peels were sweet as they should be, while the base of this glutinous rice patty was lightly crispy while the entire dessert was right at the perfect sweetness level.

It's amazing how much one can learn from places like this one -- it's not always about how many varieties you can choose, but about how well you develop the dishes you serve. Looking into the glossy menu here with more than enough regional dishes to make three regional cookbooks, I couldn't help but to think that if they take out one particular region and focus more on the other two, the quality could've been different. I can be wrong, but between varieties and quality, how should one choose, in a business where one often is considered to reign supreme over the other? That, is an open question for all of us to ponder on, sometimes at least.

Where do tourists eat, you asked?

It tells you something, about an establishment like Yung Kee, among others with routine occurences in guidebooks in different languages. It didn't exist all these years for nothing, but then it's equally contradictory to many places with mediocre food -- if the residents of the city don't go, they can rip off the tourists. That's another matter.

A dear friend decided to throw a promising dinner, and I was lucky enough to be on that very same dinner. It's nothing more than a bunch of food buddies. Entering the glorious restaurant of Yung Kee allows one to feel what may be red-carpet glamour of Chinese dining, or at least they'd like you to think so. If only one can get past the half-scowling faces of the hostess who dismissed my request to look for my table. But that need not matter, I thought, sometimes places with reputation may develop some sort of demeaning attitude from the staff, like a by product and it's inevitable.

The tables squeezing into each other on our floor, but dinner was well-planned, with a written menu for everyone to consider, course by course. 皮蛋酸薑 arrived with halves of 皮蛋, each with its serving of glistening molten yolk, glistening with the jellied egg white the colour of coffee turned grey. The fluorescent slices of pickled ginger seemed thicker than anticipated. The preserved eggs, meltingly soft act against the tart and crunchy ginger -- the classic combination reinvented here, it's truly too bad that the thickness of the ginger gave away some big points, but the eggs alone were great. 懷舊扎蹄 came next -- triangular jellied pork slices, fanned out decorated with delicately cut jellyfish at the centre. Each bite into these jellyfish pieces bring up delightful crunches, while the pork slices were soft and flavorful. 崧子雲霧肉 resembled what may be a reddish brown chocolate bar, glazed with a smoky aroma and resting on a bed of glazed granules of pine nuts. The pork itself, through complex preparations, was tender at the meat, and gooey soft in the layers of fat, and a gelatinous, slightly chewy skin, accentuating on extra smoky tea flavour as well.

金牌叉燒 was next -- a mounting pile of barbecued pork on the leaner side, arrived totally glazed. It was nowhere near as good as a fattier cut, but the flavour was satisfactory. The signature 金牌燒鵝, presented like a phoenix taking off in its flight, made quite an impression at the table. Neatly presented, the thin roasted skin had the texture of pork crackling, almost, but the meat was slightly tougher even though the flavour was extra-delicate with the slightest hints of five spice. It didn't require further dip of the plum sauce or anything, as the bird itself was good on its own. Looking over to the next table of American tourists, they made their way through convrsations with sweet and sour pork and a gigantic roasted goose, and their eyes widened with wonder much the same way as a roasted turkey arriving on Thanksgiving. We looked on, wondered how they felt about a Chinese roasted goose...

牛爽腩 was next -- a simple shallow plate holding in the lightest sandy brown of broths, clear with just floating blots of oil across the top with well-arranged beef briskets in one single layer. Semi-translucent strips of briskets attaching to tendons and membranes, gelatinous with a beefy flavour that's almost as good as stewed beef briskets elsewhere (but still not as good as Wah Sze's in Tin Hau, I think) 五秀素炒 is a stir-fry dish with mixed vegetables. The jade green sugar snap peas were crunchy from pods to peas within -- honey sweet and fresh. Shimeji mushrooms made a special appearance and certainly a more surprising ingredient used. 紅燒斑尾 has a thick glaze upon deep-fried tail of garoupa. The fish itself is meaty with minimal seasoning, but the glaze did the job adding flavours. If only the sauce could be slightly thinner than now, although it clings on the fish pieces just fine.

Before the last round of courses, the group of us were quickly sharing dining tips, and recent rare finds. It's amazing how many people out there are in search of good food and are willing to eat anything at any time of the night, despite at work during the day. It's equally inspiring to find that more attention is paid to food, as individuals go the distance to try different things, some newer than others. We looked over to the entrance, a couple with guidebook in hand, gesturing at the waiter on what they wanted to order -- they made a bird-like gesture, the waiter guessed goose; they made other gestures, the waiter made several blind guesses and eventually gave up -- the menu, even with English, couldn't help. Pictures, however, would've helped. Moments later, when a plate of sweet and sour pork arrived at the table, the couple's faces beamed with joy. Turned out dining out in a place where the language is a challenge, isn't so hard afterall.

荷葉飯 -- a stunning bright green round parcel of rice arrived, steaming with fragrant lotus leaf flavour with moist rice granules within. Bits of chicken, salted egg yolk and shiitaki mushrooms filled the cavity of the leaf parcel. 銀絲細蓉 came in individual servings. Small bowls containing wontons resembling tiny goldfish, with hanging wonton wrappers like their tails, swinging in the calmest of waters -- a broth flavoured with floating bits of chives. The noodles were golden strands with strong taste of egg, fine and soft and needed no vinegar or chili sauce to enrich its simplicity. The next table over, a family speaking an unfamiliar European language observed us, as we made out way through our rice and noodles, gestured the waiter over inquiring about the rice (she pointed on...)It wasn't easy explaining the procedures, but as locals we were, we couldn't help but o explain to them what really went on inside "the green parcel". She smiled at our explanations, and it wasn't her intention to order the same thing, but more like having her curiosity fulfilled. Our explanations did the job, and just like that, they went back to their European conversation and us in our Chinese ones, laughing on.

A nut-filled 馬拉糕 arrived, with a candle on top, as our group celebrated the birthday of one of us. With some applause and some laughs later, the birthday boy showed a sincere chuckle, as he blew the candle and the cake shared among us -- Pillowy soft brown sugar cake rose and steamed until light and fluffy. Only slightly sweet, but with a caramel flavour on its own. It's the lightest of textures indeed. At this point we looked on, across the dining room, tables after tables of foreign faces pointing and gesturing describing what they were eating and what others ate. Some nodded in approval, some frowned at different expectations they had. I imagined they would tell others about their experiences -- on paper or online, someone will read their comments and decide on themselves on their next trip to the city, most known for culinary adventures everywhere.

Dining in places we've never been can be quite an experience. It required some understanding on more than the restaurant, or the cuisine served. Some meets our expectations, some don't. Looking over as citizens of the world ate their way through Yung Kee and other local restaurants over the years, helping form the establishment's reputation today. One couldn't help but wonder if these standards can be kept consistently across the years, for many years ahead -- for locals and for foreigners?

A circle of friends can be as diverse as varieties of apples in an orchard -- the much loved person (Golden Delicious), the tiny one (Gala), the popular boy/girl (Red Delicious), the nerdy tech-inclined geek (McIntosh), one with a big heart (Fuji Apple), one with small appetite (Gala), and one who nags all the time (Granny Smith)...etc A group of friends with a common love for eating is exactly how we ended up together. While it doesn't matter how long we've known each other, our common love for food has not fallen far off the tree (the idea) of "occasional decadence to treat ourselves". There come several members in the group who are more inclined to host get-together events, communal dinners where we share food, old and new favorites, together.

Such is the case for Applegreen, and with quite a strong push for the past year or two, we have had some dinners here, each at a different venue. After a long absence from the rest of us, the leader of the pack has decided to throw a party where we get together once and again, and at the same time, trying out some of the newer item at the American restaurant in the latest branch in TST. The menu, carefully constructed to sample some of the old and new favorites of the restaurant, consisted of several appetizers and mains, together with signature salads and pasta dishes, and a few desserts too. The new signatures are inspired with an Asian influence, as many of the new dishes feature some Asian elements -- some commoner than not.

Asian Nachos ($78) -- What may have appeared to be 'fried wontons' tasted more like 'fried wonton wrappers' (without filling). The sweet sauce tasted reminded one of bottled teriyaki sauce from the West, a little too sweet, and a little too far out trying to be Asian-inspired. The wasabi cream and cheese topping were satisfactory though, the latter made the dish more like nachos, but neither managed to save it from being too 'strange' to begin with. Tofu Chilaquile ($78) -- Looking like a blooming sunflower, corn tortilla chips surrounded a black-bean (not preserved) sauce with Tofu mixed in. It tasted similar to a Westernized Ma Po Tofu, and the tiny tinge of heat from the chilies made it taste even closer to disappointing Chinese takeout than an inspiring Asian-influence. Firecracker Salmon ($78) resembled thin cigars of spring rolls, with a strip of salmon in each 'firecracker', as well as plenty of parsley within. It's tasty enough on the whole, although the thin fried cigars were too oily. Not only do people who dislike parsley need attention for these, so do anyone who have a fear of fried foods that look fried with oil oozing out from each bite.

Salad Diane with Lemon Vinaigrette ($96) -- a simple salad that requires little preparation, or knowledge of who DIANE is in the first place. Chicken and iceberg lettuce are shredded fine and tossed with a lemon vinaigrette with silvered almonds and crispy rice noodles to make a combination of crunches in this light salad. It reminds one of a meat-containing coleslaw, which could be more entertaining to the palate with different vegetables present. This one is satisfying with the tangy vinaigrette, but it also comes out rahter bland after several bites. Lox ($136) -- The best thing that ever happened to this LOX dish is its green salad on the side and inside the dome of fanned slices of preserved salmon fillet slices. The honey-citrus dressing tastes like condensed orange juice from a can, but each bite of the salad comes with surprises such as dried cranberries (tart) and beetroot (sweet), both of which made very good salad accompaniment. The salmon itself was a little softer when compared to ordinary lox in this twist of a Scandanavian dish.

Pasta are supposedly strong at Applegreen, not in an Italian sort of way. The much-loved Carbonara ($88) used to be a favorite, which in turn has slipped onto less-than-perfect quality with the abundance of cream and lacking its shimmering goldenness of a quintessential Carbonara. It tasted heavy but the spaghetti managed to stay al dente, which is good. Pollo Mexicana ($88) is tomato-based spaghetti with chicken strips. The thin tomato sauce and the addition of sweet corn made it look more like Hongkie-style spaghetti from Cha Chaan Tings (they charge $88 for that!) The tomato sauce tasted its part -- thin and overly sweet and the chicken strips tasted like tired strips from an overcooked chicken breast. Soft Tacos ($128) involves 2 kinds on one dish -- Two each filled with 'Mexican Chorizo' (dry and crumbly) and 'Cumin-rubbed steak cubes", with the latter looking like brown pellets of dried-up beef with strong pungency of powdered cumin. The best thing that happened to the dish was the warmed flour tortilla and the tomato salsa -- simplicity, afterall, beats any complicated forms here. The Grilled Sausage Platter ($108) features 4 sausages. The hot-links were ok and the veal ones were juicy, the other two were unrecognizable. The potatoes were finely mashed but nowhere near fluffy enough, and the originally good roasted garlic turned out undercooked -- some cloves were caramelized and sweet, while the others were pretty much uncooked with a charred exterior.

The last time us friends gathered at Applegreen, conversations were stretched over topics of diversity. This time around, through an expanded group that spanned across three tables, conversations still flowed, only this time across tables with jokes enjoyed from one end of our reserved space to another end. There were exchanges of laughs, and photo-taking tips, and discussions of prospective dessert options elsewhere, until desserts were served.

Among four desserts served, Chocolate Puff Bomb ($48) is a cream puff that has been blown up into wild proportions. The enlarged Choux pastry is slightly sweet with dustings of icing sugar. With Chocolate icecream sandwiched within and a drizzle of chocolate sauce. It's proven to be too cloyingly sweet and the puff itself too soggy. The Crispy Cheesecake ($52) baths in a thick red fruit coulis. The cheesecake itself is a rectangle of cheesecake wrapped with filo pastry, which is clearly nowhere near crispy and the cheesecake is seriously too sweet, with a special heaviness that sits in the stomach even with limited consumption of two forkfuls per person. The Applegreen Choc Chip Cookies were round and brown, like an enlarged icebox cookie, were so dry and sandy-crumbed that the appearance can easily be passed as a toss-up between diet-cookies and dog-biscuits. While there is chocolate in it, there is much need to improve on the textures. The Chardonnay Grape Jelly ($58) is quite a stunner at the dessert selection. The pale jelly, softly set in a large wine glass, suspends seedless green grapes within. The green grapes were tarter than anticipated but the chardonnay jelly was only lightly sweetened. Individual portions will make quite an impressive palate cleansing dessert as well.

This meal, with plenty of joyful sharing of food and conversations, was exactly what we need every now and again -- the communal participation of something that makes us friends with each other in the first place. Each time with new people joining in, our group has gotten a stronger comraderie that binds all of us together under the same level appreciation of good food, (some may be more disappointing than others). And for the apples in our group, the joy and elation of each celebration is as real as appreciation of any kind can be.

作為懶人的我, 經常有朋友遊說要我多做運動. 對我來說,最緊要的還是訓練"定力"-- 在運動後兩小時要忍口, 最阿Q的方法就是不往有食物的地方走就是了. 但眼看不見還可, 心裡不想就是最難的事...說做Foodie但不想吃的就是難, 去跑馬地找吃的也是難, 難在要走上斜路(但自己卻是堅持要往上走). 大少爺的海南雞飯聽食友們介紹過, 但最近吃的不是好時(very good), 尖沙咀文華雞飯(good), 就是銅鑼灣的'海南少爺(going downhill as we speak/write...). 大少爺的還是首次試.

來到了門口, 看見滿牆掛上的都是明星的音樂海報, 並附上簽名, 好些還客氣的褒獎幾句. 令招牌的海南雞飯多添幾分"人氣"...要了一份"海南雞飯", 隨餐附上湯一碗. 不久, 湯來了, 是雞湯吧. 入面的冬瓜添幾分清甜, 但雞湯本身味道較清, 有點像"多冬瓜+少雞"的配搭. 接著雞飯也到了. 是的確有點眼前一亮的感覺. 為的不是好時的一股濃烈的雞油香, 反而是色澤金黃的油飯與鮮黃的去骨雞件的顏色配搭得宜, 不一樣但相近的淺金色配上深啡色的酸汁(薑味很濃). 去骨的雞件放在一旁, 一堆的沒有好時的擺放整齊,但色澤則較其他的鮮明.

微暖的雞件是有點"散", 有點"皮肉分離",但有雞味, 而雞皮確是有點爽, 雞肉挺很嫩.油飯也是微暖, 飯粒油份夠並帶有點點的香茅及香葉味道, 幾好吃的. 反而酸汁的味道太'搶', 雞件點了反而吃不出雞味來. 始終較喜歡用碗載飯, 用碟反而有點不夠方便. 另外'大少爺'裡面冷氣幾凍的, 食物來了不一會便容易變涼, 各食友們要影相的還是快拍幾張便要吃了!! 海南雞飯的確是不錯的, 但可能不會特意到跑馬地為了吃這個吧? (跟昌記的厚多士比較, 還未到要專誠到來一試...). 跑馬地其實不乏好的食肆, 有空會再來附近的試其他的.

有一陣子, 寫的食評不是彈的就是"喊面". 寫得起勁, 一連幾篇都是.像成了習慣一樣. 有食友跟我起了花名, 還帶點幽默說不叫Foodiewil, 叫Meaniewil亦可, (其實自覺人幾nice的...) 只是有笑的便有喊的, 後者往往數目更多. 寫食評的用詞大多以自己懂得的方式去描寫, 沒有刻意去營造一些不必要的"mean comments". 唯一有花心思的是特別愛細節, 大的小的都寫, 英文的動輒幾百. 但始終還有很多未學會, 要多加鑽研的.

是日到油麻地辦點事, 四點鐘吃午餐遲了, 夜晚飯局也還有幾小時才開始. 從地鐵站往前走不到兩分鐘就到鵝記, 要了馳名的咋喳. 吃中式糖水也很少要凍的.遇到好吃的西米露, 或者中環玉葉的'凍海帶'外也多數要熱的. 咋喳也是. 上來的時候還是熱騰騰的, 在帶點泥啡色的糖水上泛著後加的椰汁,感覺糖水看似很稀的. 用小匙從碗裡翻一翻就能看見各式豆類, 除了撲鼻的椰香外, 豆類的不同質感亦是我特別愛咋喳的原因. 小粒的西米完全的透明, 試試咬著帶點軟糯. 雞心豆比較難熟, 中間部分則是'少少粉', 而紅腰豆是軟滑(連 '衣' 也失去那"韌"的質感). 糖水部分幾綿起沙的, 但不會過份的甜. 椰子味反而不太濃. (其他豆都可以, 所以沒有詳細寫...)

有衝動點一碗凍的試試. 但實在是太飽了, 下次再來試凍的.