March 30, 2015

Seven days after Mr Lee Kuan Yew's passing

I have been wearing black all week. This post was drafted on the third day since Mr Lee Kuan Yew's passing on the early morning hours of the 23rd of March, Monday. 

Truth be told, when news of his passing broke, a little bit of me was disappointed. As a product of his governance, I always thought he would live forever - realistically, of course, he was only human, like the rest of us, and he was unwell for a long time. It would have been unfair to him to suffer any longer for us to hold up the illusion that he was immortal.

I was enrolled into the government-owned PAP kindergarten as my first school, and we said the pledge and sang the national anthem every single day before classes started. We all wore blue and white uniforms to class, we had bilingual classes, and in every class, whether we were Malay, Chinese, Indian, Eurasian or Caucasian - we ate together, napped together, played together and learned together. This was also - since we then owned a tiny television - when I first saw his face, and heard his name - Mr Lee Kuan Yew. 

He was dressed in white, arms clasped behind him as he smiled into the crowd. I was instinctively afraid of him, he reminded me of my grandfather - unrelentingly strict, observant eyes, dissecting your every choice, making you feel small without even speaking.

I was only a child then, but I knew he was a powerful man. His voice was unwavering as he railed into the microphone - Singapore would not succumb, Singapore was not just an island, we would show them - all these bullies from across our borders and the seas. He snarked at the Opposition, he scoffed at silly journalists, he issued stern warnings to countries who thought they could blackmail us with their resources, he even threw out officials. Obey our rules, he warned, Obey our rules because the penalty of breaking the Singapore law will not be easy or be lifted for anyone. Law-breakers local and foreign alike were punished, he ignored calls from their countries to spare them.

His son soon stepped up - a smiling, bemused man, so unlike his father in temperament. He was gentler, less fearsome, but applied the same rules. Mr Lee and Mr Lee, the news whispered.

Years later, after finishing school in two private missionary schools (both of which made my life absolute hell with their religion and rules), I would move to Australia for university. I was then angry at him and his son - I had firmly believed that his education system had left me behind. I later learned, this was not a problem with the education system - it was me. I learned this the hard way. I never made this mistake again and studied hard, earning my university degree.

I also learned, when I was away, how important my nationality was to me. I'm a Singaporean, my mind whispered to me, when racists called me a chink as they drove by me. I'm a Singaporean, my mind screamed, as someone remarks that my English is pretty good for a Chinese person.

"I'm a Singaporean", I finally said, voice as unwavering as the one I heard years ago - and I answered their questions. Yes, we are bilingual, or more, since childhood. I study hard because my education system has showed me what will become of me if I slack off. And YES, yes i follow the rules and give you the illusion of obedience - I know what happens if I don't. No, that doesn't mean I don't know how to defend myself. "I'm a Singaporean, you don't even know where that is, scumbag!" I would yell at blubbering racists who failed their Geography.

I heard his name again when I returned to Singapore for my university break. He had lost his wife, and the nation wept with him. I saw him again - albeit on a bigger television screen - he was thin, his white shirt now hung loose on his frame, eyes sunken and a wisp of white hair atop his head. He was still an imposing figure, but I smiled when I saw him smile - I chuckled when I saw his photo with an enthusiastic member of Parliament, I laughed when I saw him dismiss an irrelevant question from a student who tried to pry into his private life.

Elections came and went, the PAP resumed their triumphs. People became more unhappy, more disrespectful. The Opposition party didn't win, they gained seats but they still didn't win. People rallied, they spat out theories and rumours of foul play. 

Remember where you came from, my mind stated to me as I swiped my passport through customs en route to Perth once again. Don't forget your home

More than once, I had considered leaving permanently. I could make Australia my home - I could make anywhere my home. All I needed to go was save up enough and give up my Singaporean status. I would be able to be free, not have to worry about not the rules, not care about not being able to own a car or a house.

I could not bring myself to. Year after year, my mind whispers, We need to go home. Home isn't here.

At the end of 2013, I returned to Singapore. Mr Lee was unwell, again, the news reported, he isn't going to last, some people murmured. People became bolder, they spoke out more, they railed against the Lee family, against the government, against every policy and every foreigner. Singapore is overcrowded, seethed the Singaporeans, Singapore was too expensive, too small, too big, we don't have enough, they don't have enough. Mr Lee Kuan Yew garnered a lot more flack, he was criticised, cursed and laughed at. It's his fault, they stated, it's his fault we can't do this or have that, that I don't have enough, that I can't have enough.

They made fun of him when he couldn't stand without assistance, and even laughed when he was hospitalised. They declared him a liability, that he was getting what he deserved for ruining Singapore.

He was hospitalised for the last time, in February of this year, 2015. 

He did not get to spend Chinese New Year with his family. His son, too, was also hospitalised for surgery. People became vicious - they wished for their deaths. I became angry, but not at them, but for them. I never agreed wholeheartedly to either side of the argument, but I became so mad when it came to wishing them an earlier or more painful death, when people stated their deaths would bring that freedom they finally wanted, even a public holiday.

Pneumonia - that was what took him. 

He was 91 - an impressive age for anyone. Even in death, he would show the world what Singapore was about. Internationally, politicians and companies mourned for him. Walt Disney, American presidents, even North Korea expressed their condolences towards us. People queued for over eight hours to pay their last respects to his closed coffin. Companies made distasteful products, rectified this with donations and giving out supplies at the never ending line. Umbrellas, personal donations, supplies of food, water, shade, all poured into the queue which started and ended in tears.The amount of pain Singapore felt was staggering - even I did not expect it.

Many discussions, overseas and local, were had regarding the onslaught of sympathy and grief, but herd mentality or not, sincere or not, we sent a clear message to the world: Don't fuck with us.

It's too late to think about what could have been. Instead, all I have left, is a few of his books, and my amazing passport, my pink Identification Card, my weird half-and-half accent - declaring me a citizen of this island. This place is my home, and it took his entire life to bring it to this point.

We don't have him anymore. The rest is now up to us.

I don't need to know what the critics will say. He's a ruler, not a leader. People suffered under him - thrown in jail for no reason or trial because they offended him, we couldn't chew gum, there is no freedom of press, rules rules rules, the death sentence is too harsh, caning is not humane, he is ruling Singapore with an iron fist.

Fuck you, my mind supplied. You want all that gone? What are you willing to give up? Your safety when you're walking home at 4am in the morning from Zouk? How about giving up your right to one of the top healthcare services in the world? Or how about taking public transport and not knowing when you'll get blown to fucking pieces? How about living in a society where you don't know if your neighbour is dealing crack or murdering prostitutes? Or maybe you would prefer to live in a society where there are so many political differences that a coup can happen anytime and you will get taken from your home, or your children will be killed on their way to school, if they even have access to education? How about that one? You tell me what you are willing to trade in for the security and quality of life we get in this nation. Boo fucking hoo, death sentences are inhumane and our society is based on strict laws and fines, and everything is expensive.

We are a civilised society, not perfect but we are a goddamned first-world country. Did you do that while you were busy talking shit out of your ass about every indignity and every injustice you think you suffered under their 'regime'? They got criticised every step of the way and they still got shit done, look at yourself whining and expecting the world to stop turning for you.

Mr Lee Kuan Yew is already gone. At least spare his resting soul the pain of your stupidity. 

March 22, 2015

Food Review: Dim Dim Sum Dim Sum

In continuation of my Hong Kong trip (this is long overdue, actually), I suppose I should actually put some effort into updating as much as I can about my trip since I am not traveling for the foreseeable future due to work constraints. I really like my new workplace, so food reviews may be reserved for work instead! );

When in Hong Kong, it's difficult to miss dim sum. It's practically Hong Kong's national dish(es), and the first time I had it, authentically, was of course in Hong Kong, way back in 2008. It blew my mind because of several reasons:

1) Price. Dim sum is ridiculously, obscenely cheap in Hong Kong. I'm saying this probably due to the exchange rates, and also because it is much cheaper in its own hometown.

2) Experience. This applies in two-folds, first being the actual experience of me eating in an actual cha zhan teng, or tea-house, surrounded by senior citizens sitting alone with their paper and a dwindling cigarette in their mouth while their tea seeps, waiting for their baskets of dim sum arrive. Second-fold being the experience of the servers. It doesn't matter which establishment you visit - they know their shit. You can be assured that they will serve you, know what to serve you and serve you fast. These ladies (and gents) have no time to dwindle or the food gets cold. Food gets cold, nobody is happy.

So, let's start this.

This is my second visit to Dim Dim Sum (DDS). In light of many recently opened, new dim sum outlets opening up all over the world (some particularly over-hyped) and particularly in Hong Kong, there remains the solid foothold of Dim Dim Sum. I could review the older tea houses but I'm not that generous.

DDS has no qualms reminding you of its crowning glory - that it made it into Time Out Magazine's top 101 places to eat in the world in 2012, and won the Best Dim Sum award in 2011, and was featured in 'Where Chefs Eat' in The Ultimate Insiders' Guide. 

Despite her accolates, DDS remains small in the branch I visited - which is in Mongkok. Tucked away next to other much bigger restaurants and cafes, she sits unassumingly, with her awards, advertisements, features and photos plastering what little glass is available at the entrance. She opens at 11am, but a queue will form at least 15 minutes before as her seating space is not plenty. 

Again, in many eateries around Hong Kong, I must warn - if the service is good, the food will be bad. That's all I will say about the service in DDS.

The standard ordering rules apply here, just tick off whatever you want on the placard provided and they will do a confirmation and let you know if any items are unavailable for the day. Most menus will provide an English translation within the menu, but there are photos available so just point if the menu doesn't work for you linguistically. 

Friendly advice: You will be sorely tempted to over-order. Stop and pause. The fact remains that dim sum here, or anywhere in Hong Kong will be steamed fresh-to-order (if you're lucky), so over-ordering only piles your table while you are still eating. This means, if you are a slow eater, your food will go cold and go cold fast. So don't. Order what you'd like to try first, the basics, if you will. 

Like Cheong Fun, or steamed rice flour rolls.  The DDS version, named Crispy Rice Flour Rolls With Shrimp, hold a crispy-hot hoard of Chinese cruller and further within, some sweet prawns. The accompanying light sauce adds a touch of saltiness which is not present in the dish, and the textures will be a lovely accompaniment to an otherwise standard dish.

My dad is partial to a good bowl of rice congee to start the day, and the family favourite is the pork and century egg congee. Lean minced pork, with pieces of century eggs, served in warm rice congee topped with light soy sauce and green scallions. Every country or city does this differently - in Hong Kong it's a pretty standard bowl with no extra stuff, but in Singapore sometimes we get pieces of crispy pork lard or chillis to go with it. 

Having this with some Chinese cruller dipped in is pretty great, especially in colder climates.

The two more standard dishes, of Har Gow, a steamed prawn dumpling and Siew Mai, a steamed prawn and pork dumpling topped with crab roe. The Har Gow is sometimes called a crystal dumpling, because they use a dumpling skin that is semi-translucent and it glistens a bit after it has been steamed. 

Siew mai is a pretty standard dim sum dish, and different versions can be found in countries like China and Singapore. Siew Mai is just called Shao Mai in Chinese, but the Hong Kong version strikes me as more delicate, lighter on the palate and not as heavy or greasy as the Chinese counterparts.

My folks are big fans of chicken feet, or as they called when translated, Phoenix claws, in Hong Kong. A lot of people get weirded out by chicken feet - the dim sum versions are often braised in soy sauce, and sometimes a redder sauce to give it a more 'Phoenix' colour. The meat is not plenty, but most folks eat this for the skin, which is delicious when paired with the sauces. Of course, if you look at chicken feet, you'll know that eating this is not an easy feat. 

As far as I noticed, a lot of senior folks love chowing down on chicken feet. Expertly chewing through the entire thing with nothing other a pair of chopsticks (never using their hands) and occasionally spitting out tiny bones, leaving behind nothing else. I eat this as well, but never as well or as cleanly as a lot of my older counterparts.

In quick succession, arrived our next three dishes - the essential Char Siu Bao (barbequed meat steamed buns), soft white buns filled with slivers of red pork. Different buns will have doughs of varying textures depending on their ingredients within. The Char Siu Bao commonly uses a beautifully white, soft dough, almost cake-like in texture, splitting open at their tops as they're steamed. 

Next up is the traditional steamed pork ribs. DDS does a great version of this, with a light sauce rendered from the fat of the pork ribs and sweetness of the added yams.

These little petri dish of meats holds a big deal of flavours - the pork ribs are chopped into bite-sized morsels so the steaming process can be quickened, and occasionally I get a treat of cartilage, which adds a delightful texture to the dish.

My personal favourite for dim sum is the Lotus Leaf wrap - a bundle of glutinous rice, filled with treats such as salted egg yolks, pork and chicken, mushrooms, chestnuts and scallops. Different countries cook this with different ingredients, but the Cantonese having these on winter days and often cook them in bigger bundles than the other variations. 

What happens is a delicious, savoury glutinous rice, scented and darkened through the cooking process with its hoarde of ingredients and almost reminiscent of tea from the infusion of the lotus leaves steamed with it. 

Crazy delicious and an absolute treat. Any version you have of this will not let you down in Hong Kong.

Rounding up the meal, are two of DDS's iconic sweet dim sums.

The first of which is the Liu Sha Bao, or salted egg custard buns.

The DDS version is not just adorable, but also delicious. The filling is a salty-sweet custard, that is more liquid than pudding and will be absolutely searing hot when you bite into it, so consider this both a recommendation and a warning.

To be honest, if you're served these in any establishment and they don't make you both happy and scared at the same time, you're doing it wrong.

The next of the sweet dim sum is the Polo Bun, which is a pineapple-custard filled bun, baked with a layer of sweet crumble atop its buttery bread dough. Now this, DDS does a spectacular job at - in Hong Kong, it's not difficult to find Polo Buns. In fact, many places will have specialised racks placed right outside their restaurant to sell their assortment of Polo Buns and other breads so anyone needing a quick bite or a takeaway doesn't cram up what little space they have inside the actual restaurant. 

DDS's come in a basket of three, all made with perfectly buttery rolls, holding pieces of tart pineapple and thickened custard. While the bread itself, or the filling is not particularly sweetened in anyway, its flavour is notched up with the addition of the crumble baked on top. The crumble is flakey-sweet, speckled with a sheen of butter and egg wash, and goes perfectly well with the Polo Bun in every way.

If you are ever in Hong Kong, I hope you skip the queue and head to Dim Dim Sum. I promise you, it's very much worth the visit. If it helps, they have stores in different parts of Hong Kong, making it so much easier to get your dim sum fix. 

So get your eat on! One more review coming up for Hong Kong - and who knows what else will happen.

點點心點心專門店/Dim Dim Sum Dim Sum can be located at: 

點點心點心專門店(佐敦店) Jordan Store :
21-23 Man Ying Street, Jordan, Kowloon
Tel/電話: 27717766

點點心點心專門店(旺角店) Mong Kok Store:
112 Tung Choi Street, Mong Kok, Kowloon
Tel/電話: 23092300

點點心點心專門店(灣仔店) Wan Chai Store: 
7 Tin Lok Lane, Wan Chai, HK
Tel/電話: 28917677

點點心點心專門店(沙田店) Shatin: 
Shop 108, 1/F, Citylink Plaza, Shatin 
Tel/電話: 2285814

February 25, 2015

Bucketlist review: The Lobby, Peninsula Hotel

Every food blogger has that one place they've always wanted to go. Irregardless of whether they get to write about it, or talk about it, or even take photos of the experience, every blogger has that one spot they've always dreamed of visiting and writing about. 

Mine is The Lobby's famous Afternoon Tea, of the Peninsula Hotel Hong Kong. 

I've gone to Hong Kong quite a few times in my life. At one point, I've visited Hong Kong twice in a year, then annually for four consecutive years. That's how much I love the place - I love it. It's in my bones to yearn for Hong Kong, to visit her, eat her food, watch her streets fill up with people through the night, be with her people.

However, despite the many times I've been to Hong Kong - I've never once tried to visit The Peninsula to see if I could secure a table for their afternoon tea. It is famously crowded, the queue forming long before the commencement of tea time at 2pm, and I just never went. I've been to the Peninsula for a visit once, but I never plucked up the courage to join the queue and ask for a table. I'm not too sure why myself - perhaps I had an underlying fear it would not live up the hype, or it just was never the right time for me. 

This time, however, it was the right time.

If you've ever seen The Peninsula, and you may well have, in several films - you'll know its a historical place in Hong Kong. Opening its door in 1928, it is one of the oldest heritage hotels in Hong Kong, seeing and surviving the start then end of a war, and having its name forcibly changed then returned to it when Hong Kong was restored from the Japanese to the English. Heavily colonial in its decor, and even its in service, this hotel has seen much of Hong Kong and lived to tell the tale.

The iconic English-styled afternoon tea remains one of the things left behind by its colonial masters of the past, and till today many still visit The Peninsula in the hope of securing a table for some afternoon tea while listening to the live orchestra play.

Oh, how we waited. Me and my long-suffering father took turns in the queue while my mother spent the two hours relaxing on the armchairs provided in the hotel lobby. A whole two hours, inching closer to the head of the line from the queue formed all the way to the back of the hotel, snaking around the corner as another waiter stood to help any lost customers. 

If you are a guest in the Peninsula Hotel, don't fret - you are able to make a reservation. Since I was not a guest (yet), I bid my time and watched as people came and left in the rush of the afternoon. 

After a grand total of two hours, we finally got our table - a smiling, understandably amiable young man led us to our table, gently coaxing us through the weave of other guests' tables, pulling out our chairs and presenting us with the menu. His expression was one I recognised, he knew we had waited an obscenely long time and he was not about to rush us for anything in the world.

As my parents relaxed while I ordered up our afternoon tea sets, our waiter nodded and smiled through my entire request. Extremely well-mannered, and alert despite the crowd he had been and was still serving, he calmly answered our questions in excellent English, and recommended the different teas to us without doubt or pause. Dressed in a sharp white suit, he quickly left to get our order in, sharply instructing a junior staff to dress our table with the suitable cutlery. 

I watched as the wait staff worked their way through the afternoon tea rush - they never ran, they never frowned, they never hesitated. They walked briskly from their stations to the tables, smiled as they poured tea and refilled glasses, never piling their glinting silver trays with excessive things - placing items onto tables with not a clink nor a splash. 

They had been trained, and trained well.

Now, if you find yourself in the same situation as I am, know that the afternoon tea menu is not extensive. It doesn't boast a dictionary of tea selections, or a huge selection of food to overwhelm. They simply list off the items and ingredients, and allow you to make your decision. 

One doesn't come here to just eat and drink - you do so in an atmosphere that's been catered to the English for over 80 years, and what an atmosphere it is. High ceilings, gold finishes, the lull of the orchestra playing on the balcony, watching the bellboys with their white suits and gold buttons, and those beautiful chandeliers - all add to the experience of afternoon tea in this hotel.

What you must notice, are the gargoyle faces on the sprawling, majestic columns along the hotel lobby. There are 76 in total - and they have been the one key feature to remain through the years, preserved and cared for till today.

A waiter arrived to set our table, setting the cutlery and the place-mats without a sound. He was precise and unassuming, never touching the cutlery at the wrong end, placing the beautiful plates down exactly in the middle of the place-mats and nodding to us as he exits to carry on the rest of his duties. 

He did not need our approval nor did he seek it. He knew he was doing just fine - or he would not leave the table.

The cutlery, of course, was suitably marked with the signature Peninsula logo - polished, heavy silverware, delicate chinaware with clever and pretty finishing and details. Shiny and fancy, with the slight flair of coloured detail to get your attention. 

Their teapots are all polished silverware, heavy and vintage. If you peer inside the pots, you'll notice that its stained, not dirty, from the countless amounts of tea served from them.

As our drinks arrived, the waiter poured our teas - an Earl Grey for my mother, while I ordered the Tangerine Rooibos. Both were incredibly scented, smelling absolutely divine, and tasting just as lovely as they smelled. 

I particularly loved my Tangerine Rooibos - heavy with the scent of fresh tangerines, sharp and acidic yet soft and sweet on the palate. I can still smell it now, a distinct scent, like someone peeling an orange next to you, the scent cutting through the air and refreshing your sense. (Also, I think the waiter knew I was taking a photo so he poured the tea slower and longer than he needed to.) 

As he gently placed the tea strainer away, I saw little specks floating lazily up to the amber surface of my tea - red strands of tangerine peel, adding depth to my sips.

My father had a cafe au lait, or a latte I guess, served in a pretty glass holder. It tasted pretty great as well, if my dad's word counted for anything. He quite liked the coffee, and he's quite the coffee drinker, so we'll have to take his word for it. 

As we sipped, and sighed - our food arrived.

The first of which was The Lobby Club sandwich (HKD$200) - a recommended dish, coming with a side of chilli fries. By chilli fries I mean hot crispy chips with savoury chilli powder sprinkled generously over them. By club sandwich, I mean crispy-soft, toasted seven-grain bread, with bacon, herbed egg omelette, shaved ham, lettuce, tomato and a light smear of sauce folded and clasped into the whole thing. 

They also serve the sandwich with a side of coleslaw and a pickle to make sure you don't stay hungry after your sandwich. That's pretty considerate.

I also ordered their signature Blueberry Cheesecake (HKD$150) for my father - who is a huge cheesecake fan. I felt the need to reward him for helping me with the endless queue for this meal, and he was very inclined to accept my reward. 

The cheesecake came presented like a work of art - creamy, crumbly cheesecake resting just barely on a crisp Speculoos biscuit, pebbles of blueberries, a wave of puff pastry sitting across the middle of the entire plate, a quenelle of lemon sorbet sitting on a biscuit crumble (also Speculoos), finished with a dramatic swirl-drag of blueberry sauce.

They were clever with this - they knew the cheesecake might be heavy for some - so they used the lemon sorbet to cleanse the palate and provide a refreshing accompaniment.

My mother, being vegetarian for the day (it was the first day of the Lunar Chinese New Year) - ordered this Coconut Sticky Rice (HKD$165). Served in a baby coconut, with dollops of sticky rice, tart chunks of mango and sweet, soft slices of coconut flesh, this was creamy and heavy, and reminded me heavily of the Thai version. The only difference was that this variation was much creamier, wetter and sweeter than the Thai version. 

It was very strange, but we didn't hate it. It's not something we could finish solo, but we shared this and we didn't hate it.

Finally, we arrive at the Pièce de résistance - The Peninsula Classic Afternoon Tea for two (HKD$628).

A three-tier spectacle of sweet and savoury, sitting in the middle of our table, demanding my attention like a spoilt cat. The top level were the sweets, strawberry pudding, chocolate hazelnut cake, raspberry cakes, and a peach tart - with the 'peach' actually being peach-flavoured syrup encased in a thin membrane structure, running down your tart like an egg yolk as you bite into it. 

I can't go into every one of the elements individually, but I make special mention to the chocolate-hazelnut cake concoction. It was lovely, velvety dark chocolate on sponge with hazelnut cream, and a touch of crisp wafer. That was very enjoyable for me. 

The savory second tier was a smattering of sandwiches, and a sort of weird egg and vegetable quiche. I didn't find the quiche very appealing as it was quite tasteless, and the sandwiches were basically sandwiches. Ham fillings, smoked salmon, some cucumber and cream, the basics.

There wasn't anything that particularly stood out for me on this plate, but it wasn't like I didn't just have an amazing Club sandwich.

As with all afternoon tea sets, there must be scones. Scones, scones, scones. 

I'll be honest with you - these scones straight up blew my mind. They were, visually, much taller than the regular butter scone, and their deep-browntops were lovely and tore off easily, crumbling very little. These observations immediately indicated to me that this would probably not be scones that were too dense, and perhaps more cake-like in texture. 

I was half right - the scones were fluffy, but retained a level of density in their texture. Buttery on their own without overwhelming, not absorbing the lovely clotted cream and jam - both with just a touch of sweetness so they didn't turn me off - as I spread the mixture onto the surface. Not too dense that you would feel it sticking to your teeth as you chewed, and not so fluffy that it would be too light and become a cake instead of a scone.

Absolutely perfect scones. I literally had no time to process my thoughts about these scones because I was too busy shoving them into my mouth-hole.

We ate a lot on this day.

I had long conversations with my parents as we sipped tea and made our way through the delights presented to us on this day. We nibbled and chewed and laughed as my dad plopped too much jam on his scones, and our little table almost ran out on space to put any extra plates or cups. 

It was a very peaceful, very comfortable time for me.

What else could I possibly add to this review that could articulate my happiness of simply being here, let alone being able to dine here after so many years of missing it and thinking of it?

Service is impeccable, the food is delicate, simple but delicious - complimenting their teas. Their cutlery is aesthetically beautiful with an old-school charm, which extends to everything they do, serve and decorate with. It isn't possible to say anything I would dislike about the Afternoon Tea at The Peninsula. I could gripe about the queue, but why would I when I expected it? That's like me complaining about having to queue at the bank. 

I hope you have the opportunity to experience this - I'm not talking about experiencing having afternoon tea at the Peninsula. I'm talking about being able to experience finally fulfilling your One Place, of finally being there and knowing it was exactly as you imagined and so much more. It was unforgettable for me how I felt at that moment, and I want everyone to be able to feel the way I did at some point in their lives, whether its at the Peninsula, or any other place.

The Lobby can be located at:

G/F Peninsula Hong Kong
Salisbury Road, Tsimshatsui
Hong Kong, SAR
Tel: +852 2696 6772


7:00 am - 12:00 am (Sunday to Thursday)*
7:00 am – 1:00 am (Fridays and Saturdays)*

*Afternoon Tea: 2-6PM 

(No reservations for Afternoon Tea, smart casual attire.)