Not the real thing, but Asian eatery still worth a visit
One rainy Friday evening, Genie and I headed out without reservations to sample the fare at one of Warsaw's trendy new hot spots. Unfortunately when we got there, we found the doorway jammed with leather jackets. Through the thick smoke, we detected no sign of an available table before the Pope's next pilgrimage. So, we bailed out and headed down the street to revisit a quaint neighborhood restaurant in the Filtrowa area.
Hong Kong House sits at the end of ulica Filtrowa on plac Narutowicza.
The Asian restaurant's decor, however, defies its name. Island touches create a south-sea style that make you think more of Bali or Indonesia than China.
Burnt umber, tan and blue replace the classic Chinese red and gold. Peaked bamboo roofs jut from the walls above every table along the far side of the room. Clamshell plates sat on wooden tables.
Genie commented that the warm walls made it easy to forget that outside was Warsaw winter. Obscuring the windows to the cold outside was foliage too thick and green to be real. I touched one plant that dared to stray toward the tables and announce its authenticity.
Genie didn't believe me. "It's fake. There's no way it's real," she said.
She was so adamant that I began to doubt myself. I double-checked, finding a wounded leaf where a previous customer had the same dilemma. The pleasant lush greenery was real.
We were still a little soggy around the edges, so I wanted something to warm my bones. Our eager-to-serve waiter pointed to the page that featured white, red, black and green tea (zl. 6). A strange entry caught my eye fruit tea (zl. 5).
Shortly, our somewhat timid and very polite waiter returned with a blue ceramic mug, painted over in Asian characters and patterns. It had a lid under which was myriad flotsam and jetsam. Looking about the table for a strainer, I found nothing. Eager for a warm-up, I tried to get a sip in my mouth and still exclude the solids. I failed.
What a delight, though! One of the floating objects was a raspberry. I enjoyed every last drop (and chew) of this tropical delight as we pondered the thick menus.
Printed in Polish and English, the menu had one those delightful translations where a golonka becomes a poet's knuckle. It had so many pages that we had to send our waiter away more than once while we contemplated the many choices, starting with meals for two (zl. 99) on up to feasts for 10 (zl. 899). The usual categories include soup (zl. 7-zl. 11), salads (zl. 8-zl. 9, and zl. 31 for assorted salads), hot and cold starters (zl. 7-zl. 11, samplers zl. 33-zl. 42), main dishes from meat and poultry to fish and seafood (zl. 22-zl. 65), vegetarian and tofu (zl. 15-zl. 24), and desserts (zl. 8-zl. 18).
In a rare stroke of like-minded indecisiveness, Genie and I settled on "Dinner for two A" (zl. 99). It offered the same appetizers we were staring at earlier and a greater selection of mains than we would have otherwise ordered.
The waiter immediately brought us three white ceramic dishes; a pig, which contained soy sauce, an apple with sweet sauce, and a crab, full of chili.
Almost as quickly, the waiter returned with two spring rolls on a bed of crispy rice noodles. The rolls were delicate, with plenty of fresh sprouts inside and a slight spread of meat paste. The pastry shell was light and not too greasy. It was easy to overpower their lightness by applying sauces, but they were exceptional even without anything added.
Before we finished, however, another plate arrived cucumbers in hoisin sauce. Slices of peeled cucumber topped with a stream of dark sauce. The succulent cucumbers, with a slight sugary glaze, were a watery relief to the saltiness of the hoisin a paste of plums, garlic and soy. It was exquisite and I could hear Genie sighing softly between bites.
But before we could finish our spring rolls and cucumbers, our soup arrived, which was also very good. It contained the usual mushrooms, tofu and bamboo shoots and the dark broth was by no means lacking in spice. In fact, it had an afterburn that sent Genie back to the cucumbers for relief.
The sinus-clearing soup made us glad that the waiter brought fresh napkins for the main courses. He placed the colorful, fan-folded tissues on clean, white clamshell plates, waiting for the mains. And this is where the pace of the meal slowed. While we waited, I changed beverages and ordered an EB. The speaker above us played a loop of music running the spectrum from the mundane excursions of Kenny G to the adolescent melodrama of Whitney Houston.
My beer arrived slightly sour. Combined with the lack of customers on Friday night, it gave the impression that business has been slow lately. When the main courses finally arrived, the plate was beautifully presented. Kung pao chicken, sweet and sour pork, and assorted vegetables were arranged on a single plate with apple slices preventing the three from mixing. In the center a beet had been carved into a burgundy rose. Side plates came with large scoops of rice, sticky and moist, as you would expect it.
It was here, however, that the food stopped being exceptional and fell to mediocre. The kung pao chicken was hardly more than chicken and peanuts in a greasy sauce. It lacked the vegetables and hot spice associated with what is sometimes called "gunpowder" chicken. With chili paste added, it almost came to the right temperature, but then gained the vinegar taste of the hot sauce.
I thought the sweet and sour pork was the highlight of the three dishes, with tender, lightly battered meat replacing the greasy batterballs usually served in the shopping mall variety. Genie differed. She detected a fishy overtaste that reminded her of the ghost of indigestion past. She took one bite and then concentrated on the "peanut-chicken stuff."
The third dish, assorted vegetables, was lackluster. Token portions of broccoli and carrots rested among the cabbage and celery swimming in a clear sauce. A dose of soy helped
it considerably.
All three dishes were heavy on sauce. By the end of the meal, a good pool of liquid sat in both of our clamshells.
Dinner for two is served with a dessert of fried bananas. The battered, fried fruit sweetened with a dose of corn syrup was absent the usual scoop of vanilla ice cream, which would have helped this sweet and sticky dessert.
The total came to zl. 119 ($29). Hong Kong House gives the impression of a place that started with an ambitious remodeling, but since has been forgotten in the flood of theme restaurants that have hit this city. It would benefit greatly from reevaluating its main dishes and substituting some finesse for the excesses of sauce. Our meal started out great, but fell flat. Overall, though, the exceptional starters, festive interior and polite, attentive service make for a pleasant dining experience.
