The interior looks like it should be an office or a shop floor. But instead there are tables - some round, some square, some large, some small. The first (and best) time I went was for a post midnight snack. We must have got there at around 0030. For you Yanks if you are a bit bamboozled, 0030 = 12.30 am. Engaging in a bit of non-Chinese banter, or rather pigeon Engrish, with the waitress she concluded that I was 'one of those' and swapped my chopsticks for a knife and fork. Thank you very much. What is unusual about this Chinese restaurant is that they serve dim sum between 12 pm and 4 pm, and 10 pm - 3 am. Amazing.
Where do I start? Chicken feet! There is something barbarically romantic about eating chicken feet. The way they flop lifelessly off the end of your chopsticks (or in my case, on the end of my fork) just screams obscenities at the camera. But having to suck the soft skin off the bones then letting the flavours of the tangy-like sauce trot around your palette is strangely satisfying. I had never had congee before but this is the Evander Holyfield when it comes to winter comfort food. It is a piping hot rice porridge with a density similar to gold. Good luck getting this thing moving in the Tevatron. My congee was perfectly bland with a hint of flavoursome saltiness punctuated by the innocent virgin flavours of the egg, spring onions and other meaty titbits lurking in the bowl. My favourite dish without doubt is the pork cheung fun. This brought back memories of when Mad Alan and I used to dust up to China Town in London Town for dim sum on Sunday afternoons. The memories of throwing rio snappers out of a car window at unsuspecting pedestrians was like reminiscing about the glory days of Gazza and Italia '90. Emotional. And the 'sticky rice'! Another winter favourite! Reliving that experience is bringing more tears to my eyes as if I have been trying to dice onions using my eyelids. Those long road trips up to North London on a Sunday afternoon to the Chinese supermarket with the bank of Mum and Dad... Happy days.
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| The Ho Down and Bob Ho |
The Mayflower place became such a favourite of mine that this place was frequented on multiple occasions with a large inpromptu groups of mildly autistic neuroscientists. A couple of things I would really like know though. What was really in the tea? That stuff gave me the giggles all night long as if I had read the story that Ashley Cole shot a work experience kid in the buttocks for the first time all the time. Did the lighting really fluctuate or was it the tea? Or were they really stealing electricity from their neighbours? Why does the English menu look completely different to the Chinese menu? Is it true that the Chinese menu is cheaper than the English menu? Can you get special off-the-menu dishes such as panda T-bones and golden eagle wings? The Mayflower has character. Loads of it. More character than a herd of thespians auditioning for part of Joey in Joey. The staff have character too, especially Bob Ho (real name Duncan) - you sarcastic joker!
The Ho Down is honoured to have been 'one of those' at The Mayflower.
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