Grappa's - El Grande Concepts - Hong Kong, Manila, Beijing, Shanghai,Macau
Grappa's Mailing List
-
  Join NOW to receive special offers!
Domani
Grappa's Ristorante
Grappa's Millennio
Grappa's Cellar
Grappa's Chek Lap Kok
Belgos East
East End Brewery
East End Brewery
Inn Side Out
Hong Kong Brew House
Cochrane's
New LA Café
Slim's
Spuntini
Fatt's Place
Tequila Jack's
Grappa's Greenbelt
Grappa's Harbour Square
Joe's Bar & Grill
Grappa's Long Island
Chicken Hot Pot
Blog Main
Blog 2010
What's On at Grappas, GRAPPAS Grappas News Room / Press Room About Grappas Hong Kong GRAPPAS Party Booking Our Grappas Outlets Grappas Francise Opportunity Contact Grappas Pacific Place GRAPPA's Products
RSS feeds allow to be easily and quickly informed
about "this blog"
Legend of the Lovers' Rock
10 Mar 2010
 

                                         Legend of the Lovers' Rock

                                                    by Bill Yim

 

   Has the popular and ubiquitous computer dating replaced the charm of the old Lovers' Rock?

   No, at least not in Hong Kong.

   It's five o'clock in the morning and the sun is about to rise.  While most people are still fast asleep, a group of old ladies have already climbed half way up a hill, and are busy negotiating with a prominent phallic-looking stone located there.

   The women are Taoist pilgrims, and the stone they are talking to, fondly termed the Lovers' Rock, is a legendary open-air temple rising 30 feet into the sky on the scenic hillside of Bowen Road in the Mid-Levels of Hong Kong Island.

   Most of the worshippers in the group are women in their 50's and 60's, although young girls sometimes lurk among them.  They burn joss sticks and candles.  They make offerings of roast chicken, suckling pig and oranges to the rock as they kneel and pray for a better life and marriages for their children.

   The worship ritual happens three times a month.  It takes place regularly on the sixth, 16th and 26th days of each moon in the lunar calendar. Six is an auspicious number to Taoists. It stands for eternity.

   Long before computer dating was invented, the Chinese had begun to use unconventional means of searching for their perfect mate. Consulting "the rock" is one of the methods that have withstood the test of time and maidenly patience.  To pilgrim believers, it is a magical stone that answers their prayers -- sometimes.

   The day I visited the rock recently, I overheard one old lady asking if her 40 year-old son, a truck driver, should marry a 28-year-old woman, a school teacher in Shenzhen, Guangdong, China.

   It transpired that the driver had been dating her for almost a year on his trips to China. He was desperate for a wife and the girl was apparently keen on the idea of living in Hong Kong.

   To find out whether her son should marry the school teacher, the mother made abundant offerings of joss sticks, candles and spiritual money before the rock. She then picked up a box of numbered sticks, knelt and shook the box until one of the sticks dropped out.  The stick was believed to have been "picked" by the Rock God.  For an interpretation of the meaning of the number on the selected stick, the woman approached a professional soothsayer "on location" at the rock site, and paid HK$20 for the answer which came from the well-worn depths of an old Book of Fortune.

The answer was : "Go ahead!"

   How did the legend of Lovers' Rock originate?  Some people say the stone was first worshipped as a phallic symbol.  Others argue that the shape of the rock is totally irrelevant to its power.  It is a miracle rock, they insist, because the God of Love has chosen it as his domain.

   Yet another tale revolves around an English seaman and a Chinese sampan girl who fell in love a long, long time ago. He had come to Hong Kong on a merchant ship, and she earned her living by scraping the sides of the ships.  And so it was that fate made their happiness together an impossible dream.

   For the captain of the ship, on learning of the affair, refused to allow the seaman to leave the vessel in order to remain in Hong Kong.  And the girl's parents detested the idea of their daughter marrying a foreigner.

   As the ship was about to leave for the next port of call, the English seaman, with tears in his eyes, stood on deck gazing at the waterfront.  He could see that his Chinese lover was weeping too.

   Knowing that if he sailed away he might never return, the seaman suddenly jumped overboard, and swam to shore.  Overjoyed and moved by the bravery of her lover's action, the maiden decided to run away with him.

   Together the two fugitives disappeared as rapidly as they could into the hills.

   Meanwhile the captain mounted a hunt for his missing seaman and the girl's parents started searching for their rebellious daughter.

   With their trackers gaining on them the two lovers reached a tower rock.  It was there that they ended their lives together, freeing their souls from a cruel world that forbade their union.

   Some say they jumped to their deaths from Lovers' Rock.  Others believe they hanged themselves on a tree close by.

    Kowloon, on the peninsula opposite Hong Kong island, also has a "Lovers' Rock" of some repute.  Ten feet high and eight feet wide, this miracle rock is perched on a hillside of Chi Wan Shan or the "Hill of Merciful Clouds."  It is part of a nearby temple dedicated to the Goddess of Mercy.

    It was some time ago when I last visited this rock. According to a caretaker of the temple, the popular stone was discovered some 200 years ago during the Ching Dynasty of China when pilgrims went there to pray for assistance from the gods if they ran into earthly misfortune.  It was then known as the Treasure Rock.

   Years later, however, people began to call the stone Lovers' Rock when pilgrims claimed they could see images of their future husbands or wives by "looking into" the rock surface.

   First things first, the caretaker would advise the "enquirer" to visit the temple, make an appropriate offering to the Goddess of Mercy, and pray devoutly before asking the rock to play mirror to the future. The face of the future would take a while to appear on the rock screen, but when it does, said the caretaker, the pilgrim would first see a sort of light emanating from within the rock.  This beam would gradually melt into an image.

   And when you are faced with a face in the rock, what you see is what you are destined to get as your future spouse. Like it or not!

  However, he said, not just anybody could look into the stone and see his or her future love.  "You must believe implicitly or you will not stand a chance," he added.

   I heard about a middle-aged couple who took their two children to visit the temple. The children, one 10 years old and the other nine, said they wanted to find out whom they would marry in the future. "Have a look," said the father, pointing to the rock.  The children ran over to the stone and began to peer closely at its surface.  Something soon happened for the daughter. Crouching close to the stone, she suddenly cried out and sprang away."Mom," she wailed, "all I see is a bunch of ants in the rock!'

  Undeterred by his sister's screaming, the boy carried on looking into the stone patiently for almost 10 minutes, at which point, he turned around to his parents and said: "I think my wife is going to be a rock."

  Funny? Well, not everyone thinks so. As one wit puts it: "Don't laugh at the believers who beat a faithful trail to Bowen Road or Chi Wan Shan. You too might find that talking things over with a magic stone is not such a cold and sobering experience after all."

The Headless Dancing Beauty
11 Feb 2010

             The Headless Dancing Beauty

               Southorn Playground 1950

 

                        By Bill Yim

 

"Come on in, ladies and gentlemen! Check out the one and only Headless Dancing Beauty!"

A man in a tattered Chinese jacket, his right hand beating a gong from time to time, told a crowd of curious on-lookers with a homemade loudhailer in front of a make-shift magic theater.

The place was Southorn Playground, in Wanchai 1950, when the public square was a primitive sandy sports ground during the day and a popular and exciting night spot for local residents in the evening.

The Headless Dancing Beauty was the main feature of the magic show that week. I was then 14 years old and I was there. The following account was inspired by the brief records in the diary I kept in those days.

Wearing a red Chinese dress she danced on top of a wooden table, swaying to a piece of Hawaiian music from a 78 RPM record played on an old fashioned RCA Victor gramophone next to her.

Nobody seemed to know how she was made to appear headless. But they all got excited and roared in approval as she turned around from time to time, gently wiggling her backside in front of them.

There were approximately 20 spectators, mostly hot blooded young men, watching the show which lasted for about 10 minutes, when we all had to leave to make room for another crowd.

To me, the most entertaining and the funniest part of her act came when she bent forward to give a headless bow at the end of her dance amid a standing ovation from the audience. (There were no chairs.)

She then gingerly jumped off the table and gracefully wiggled her way to the backstage behind a black curtain. Headlessly.

I still have no idea how she managed to hide her head so neatly but, looking back,  her every move was so beautifully enticing it still makes me wonder if the head really mattered at all.

While collecting material for this article the other day, I asked a friend if he would take a sexy headless woman for a wife, one who can't argue or complain.

"Sure," he replied, "only I wouldn't want to be her guide dog every time I take her out."

I must say the 30-cent admission fee to the fantastic, albeit too short, performance was certainly worth it. 

Thirty Hong Kong cents was enough to buy a large bowl of noodles with meat balls in those days, when the average monthly income was way less than HK$100.

Television had never even been heard of by most people in Hong Kong. The only entertainment for people was a visit to the Southorn Playground night market in pyjamas, a popular evening casual wear in those days, if they were sick of playing mah jong or tired of having fights with their in-laws.

Apart from the "magic theater" there were also fortune tellers who would advise whether you should shave off your eyebrows or keep your toe nails growing for better luck.

Professional storytellers were always there entertaining listeners with their fascinating Chinese tales, such as the Naughty Monkey King or the Evil White Snake Woman. 

Of course there were also feng shui experts who could explain why their customers always felt dizzy waking up in the morning - because they had left their slippers on the wrong side of the bed or their toilets were facing the wrong direction.

Cheap cooked food stalls selling delicious clams in black bean sauce and wonton noodle soups were handy for people, especially those who had just been told by a fortune teller nearby: "You'll be hungry in five minutes."

The playground was not as lit up as what it is today. Vendors either had to carry their own oil lamps or pressure lamps for lighting or pay to use one from the rent-a-lamp services there.

Genuine traditional Chinese doctors (as well as genuine quacks) were everywhere. Their usual way to attract a crowd of would-be customers was to put on a powerful and dangerous kung fu demonstration before they started talking about their homemade cure-all ointments and plasters.

One of them was a snake catcher who made and sold wine with snake penises for aphrodisiac.

I don't have a record of his name, but I vividly remember he was always surrounded by on-lookers every night as soon as he arrived at his regular spot under a tree with a bagful of live snakes and a rattan case of his sex wine.

"Brothers and sisters. Friends and neighbors. Me, the King of Snakes is here again tonight," was his usual self-introduction to a crowd of about 30 people, mostly middle-aged men and teenagers.

Eager to find out what the King was going to do with his dangerous serpents, on-lookers would start moving closer to him, so close the King himself began to get a little annoyed because his "stage" was becoming too small for his performance.

"Please move back a little and leave me and my snakes with some space," he would tell the curious crowd as he reached into the bag, fished out a handful of hissing serpents and suddenly, without warning at all, pushed them towards the crowd.

Horrified that they might get bitten, the crowd stepped back immediately, some screaming, others laughing.

"Thank you brothers and sisters. Friends and neighbors," he bowed and thanked the crowd for their cooperation as he swung the three snakes round his neck and started talking about the wonder of his home-made aphrodisiac wine.

Quoting Confucius' famous saying "Seeic sic sing ya" or "Loving food and sex is human nature," he said men must replenish their “strength” if they want to stay as virile as a snake.

"Drinking a small glass of my snake penis wine before going to bed every night," he suggested conspiratorially, "is the answer." 

By now on-lookers, still not having seen anything exciting, were getting a little bored with his sales talk…and the King noticed that too. 

Worried that his would-be customers might walk away from him, he decided to illustrate the power of his product and the meaning of virility in a more dramatic manner.

This was what he did:

With the three snakes still hanging round his neck, he overtly zipped down his trousers and, with a flourish, surprisingly pulled out an angry king cobra hidden in a secret pocket between his legs.          

"Check this out!" he told the crowd as he grabbed the snake by the neck with one hand and ran the other hand down to the very spot where the penis was located. "This is where the energy comes from. This is what I use for making my magic wine and I use hundreds of them," he declared.

The crowd was so flabbergasted they decided to stay on as the man forcefully stuffed the snake back into its miserable secret hide-out between his legs and proudly zipped up his trousers again. 

I feel sorry for the poor king cobra which was exposed to fresh air for no more than five minutes. But the evening ended happily for everyone with the Snake King successfully making quite a few sales of his sex wine to men who agreed with Confucius that "Loving food and sex is human nature."

 

   ******************************************* 

  

 Bill Yim, the writer, is also a party caricaturist specialising in entertaining guests at corporate and private functions in Hong Kong and overseas. For a glimpse of his performance, please click on the following link:

 

www.youtube.com/watch?v=OpBmvuAU37g

 

or email: bycartoon@yahoo.com.hk

for more information.

Fortune cookies
25 Jan 2010
 

Fortune cookies?

What fortune cookies?


By Bill Yim

 

   Most Chinese who have never eaten in Chinese restaurants in America or Canada have no idea what fortune cookies are.

  Made from flour, sugar, vanilla and oil with a "fortune message" wrapped inside, these popular cookies, an indispensable part of a Chinese meal in North America, have never seriously made it to  Hong Kong restaurants. And there are good reasons for this, involving cultures and humor.

   Messages such as "You will find a new love soon," "Today is your lucky day," and "Don't make your boss angry unless you want to lose your job" are not generally regarded as "fortune" by the average Chinese.

   Lee Chiu Yan, a veteran fortune teller outside the Wong Tai Sin Temple in Kowloon explained: "Fortune and cookies are two totally different things that have nothing to do with each other. When you put them together and call them fortune cookies, the marriage immediately becomes a joke that appeals only to the very young-at-heart and children.

   "The average Chinese is far too serious about the business of fortune telling, unless he or she was born in a foreign country and brought up with a western sense of humor."

   Raymond Chan, a 35-year-old businessman who travels to New York regularly, described these messages as "silly kid stuff."

    "If I wanted to have my fortune told," he explained, "I would go to a fortune teller."

   Mrs. Wong Siu Lin, a 40-year-old nurse, said she ate the cookies but didn't even bother to read the messages when she recently dined in a Chinese restaurant in San Francisco.

   Asked how she would define the word "fortune", she answered:

    "Fortune is when I crack open a cookie and find a $100 bill or a little diamond ring pops out."

    There is no official record of the cookie's history. According to MonsterFact.com, some say they were invented by a Japanese immigrant named Makato Hagiwara, a gardener who designed the famous Japanese Tea Garden in San Francisco's Golden Gate Park.

   Others insist the idea came from a Chinese immigrant name David Jung, founder of the Hong Kong Noodle Company in Los Angeles in 1918.  He created the cookies with an inspirational Bible scripture on it and passed them out to the poor wandering near his shop.

    Whoever later developed the idea into a successful business venture must have been a psychologist who understood the fun-loving mentality of the average American and made good use of it.

   There are hundreds of bakeries in the U.S., Canada and Europe baking millions of such cookies everyday for Chinese restaurants as well as wedding, graduation and business promotional events. There are giant cookies, cookies with custom messages and cookies dipped in chocolate.

    The well-established Garden Bakery in Hong Kong is probably the only company that makes fortune cookies with bilingual messages, English on one side and Chinese on the other. Their clients are mainly  major  hotels where tourists would expect them at the end of a Chinese meal. Chinese students who have been exposed to the culture while studying abroad are also their customers.

   I had my first taste of fortune cookies when I was back-packing in the United States years ago, working in a Chinese restaurant as a waiter and trying to earn some money for my next Greyhound trip to Canada.

   The restaurant was in San Mateo, a city about 25 miles from San Francisco. It was called the Rickshaw Restaurant, a name suitable perhaps only for businesses intended to take people for a ride.

    It catered to a cross-section of Americans ranging from business executives to strip dancers. All regarded the fortune cookies as a highlight of their meal.

The "fortunes" might never be true but they never failed to bring a sunny smile to the recipients, even though the absent-minded chef had forgotten the vital sugar in their sweet and sour pork.

  However these messages can sometimes create embarrassment when they end up in the wrong hands.

  A nine-year-old boy almost burst into tears when he landed one that read: "You will be married in less than a year."

  An elderly woman jumped up from her chair, hugged me and kissed me when she got one that read: "Romance is just around the corner."

   Of all the different cookie messages I had collected for souvenirs during my one month working there, the one that really enlightened me  was: "The best place to find a helping hand is at the end of your arm." A bit rude but that was exactly what I was looking for after a hard day's work.


Fancy a snake dinner?
8 Jan 2010

 Fancy a snake dinner ?

                                    by Bill Yim

    The beauty of having a drink in a bar after a hard day's work is the chance of meeting different people with different tastes.

   I recently ran into an American tourist who asked me in a heavy Texas accent where he could get a rattlesnake steak.

   "Funny you should ask this question," I answered. "This is the snake eating season in Hong Kong but I'm afraid I don't know of any restaurant that serves rattlesnake steak here."

    He was obviously disappointed but totally fascinated when I told him about a Hong Kong snake chef who can kill a king cobra by grabbing its head, sticking it into his mouth, biting it off with his teeth before skinning it and turning the meat into a delicious snake dinner.

    Tam Kam Sun, better known as Seh Wong Sun or Sun the King of Snakes, owns a small snake restaurant in Tai Yuen Street in Wanchai busy serving hundreds of customers during the snake eating season these days.... 

   "I first started beheading snakes with my teeth in 1975 when I was selling live snakes in the streets near the markets in Hong Kong, Kowloon and the New Territories," he told me.

   "I'm the only snake man in Hong Kong who does it and it really helped in drawing a crowd in front of me before I started talking about the medicinal goodness of snake soup and snake wine made from their bile and penises."

    Tam said he normally started his day by going out with two large bagfuls of live snakes wiggling over his shoulder.

   "Shum Shui Po in Kowloon and Yuen Long in the New Territories were my two favourite spots because people living there are more traditional than those in Central or Tsimshatsui and thus more familiar with the benefits of snake food and keen to buy them."

   "I had no problems in getting passersby to crowd around me as soon as I untied one of the bags, reached my hand into it and fished out a couple of poisonous snakes, all hissing and wriggling."

    "I then started talking about how snake soup can keep you warm in winter and how snakes' internal organs can energise and rejuvenate a person."

     "I told the crowd: 'Most people are afraid of snakes because they bite. Not me.'  Without further ado, I grabbed one of them by the neck, stuck it into my mouth, bit off the head with my teeth and spat it out."

     This writer was there watching this awesome performance when Tam put on a demonstration right in front of his restaurant some time ago. Most women screamed but men cheered as they watched the headless snake wiggling on the floor. 

     After leaving it there for a few minutes, Tam picked up the headless end with his left hand, stepped on the tail with his right foot,  cut a slit on the body and skinned it with his right hand with a flourish.

    He then chopped up the skinless serpent into several sections, put them into a plastic bag and handed them to the buyers for home-made snake soup.

    He said the heaviest serpent he had ever decapitated with his teeth was a 16 lb wriggler. "That thing was so tough I almost lost a couple of teeth," he giggled as he recalled.

    Tam used to stage the same performance several times a day in different locations to make a living and eventually saved enough money for the opening of his restaurant in Wanchai after two years.

    The 60-year-old snake specialist who first learned snake hunting from his father in Dongguan, Guangdong Province, China when he was a seven-year-old boy, told me how he had come up with the head-biting routine as an eye-catcher for his sales.

     "I used to get bullied by boys in school, often badly kicked and punched in the street.  One day, I decided that I had had enough. I grabbed one of the boys by the neck, bit off his right ear and spat it on the floor.  Ever since that incident, none of them would come near me."

     Tam said that was the bloodiest thing he had ever done.  "I thought: if I could stop those axxholes from beating me up by biting off one boy's ear, beheading a snake's head with my teeth in the street should be an awesome performance."

     As an eye-witness, I must say the performance certainly blew my mind. 

     He said one European man, who identified himself as a representative from the SPCA,  once walked up to him and ordered him to stop the act.

      "I explained to this European," he said, "biting off the head is less painful to the reptile because it only takes two seconds, short and sharp, compared to beheading it with a knife. I then handed him a knife and challenged him to decapitate one of my snakes. He chickened out and vanished."

     The popular Chinese folk saying "Chau fung hay, sam seh fay" may mean nothing more than "snakes get fat when the autumn wind starts blowing" but it literally spells the relationship between the season and the gourmet's palate for the reptiles.

    It is during the spring and summer months when snakes hunt for food before going into hibernation for the rest of the year.  This is the time when snakes are caught in China, Thailand and Indonesia and exported to Hong Kong for snake soup, fried snake meat slices and snake bile and penis wine.

   Snake soup and meat are popularly credited with powers of keeping you warm and snake bile is believed to be good for rheumatism and similar aches as well as rejuvenating the tired and aging.  Snake penis wine is regarded as an aphrodisiac and some people drink it regularly.

    The most popular snakes for the purposes are cobras and banded kraits.

   There are about 30 to 40 restaurants serving nothing but snake dishes in Hong Kong.  They are busy only from October to March when many gourmets walk in for their three-course snake dinner:  a cup of fresh snake bile wine, a bowl of snake meat soup and a dish of fried snake slices.

   To prepare a glass of fresh bile wine, a professional snake killer would walk up to the customer with a bag of live snakes.  He reaches his hand into the bag and fishes out three poisonous reptiles.

    Showing the wriggling serpents under the watchful eye of the customer, the snake man points out how healthy and virile they are and why it is the right time to kill them for consumption. The customer, normally a seasoned snake eater, knows what the man is talking about. He nods and gestures him to start operating on the snakes in his presence.

    The most exciting part of the whole dinner now begins.

    The killer holds the snake's head, runs the other hand down the side of the reptile. In a matter of seconds he locates the bile, known as the "gem" of the snake, picks up a special knife, cuts a one-inch slit at the spot.  The "surgeon"  then squeezes out the dark green sac with two fingers and drops it into the shot glass. With a little stirring movement he mixes the bile with a shot of Chinese wine and the drink is ready.

    It normally takes three sacs from three snakes to make a fresh bile drink and the price can be up to HK$2,000 to HK$3,000 if the bile comes from king cobras which are more poisonous and thus believed to be more potent.

   The "miracle drink" doesn't taste like the good old snakebite shot served by your bartender but it is certainly more powerful and expensive than the simple concoction of beer and dry cider.

   The snakes can still live for a couple of months after the bile has been removed.... The usual practice, however, is to skin them immediately for snake soup and meat dishes.

   The snake soup is always the most popular item on the menu. It is a mildly savory broth with a delicious mixture of chicken, snake, pork, abalone slices, mushrooms, ginger, lemon leaves and chrysanthemum petals. 

    If you feel the soup is only the beginning of an exotic dinner, order a dish of snake meat slices fried in garlic, chili pepper and black bean sauce. It always goes down well with a glass of beer and never fails to switch on the heater in your body afterwards.

                           -------------------------------

  Bill Yim, the writer, is also a party caricaturist specialising in entertaining guests at corporate and private functions.  For a glimpse of his performance please click on the following link:

 

www.youtube.com/watch?v=OpBmvuAU37g

 

or email:

bycartoon@yahoo.com.hk 

for more information.