A bizarre old Chestnut

After recommendations from various friends, Mrs smog and I decided to try out Le Marron last night. We had been told that it had good French food in a quaint environment, and the menus on the website looked promising; we were also tempted by the $40 corkage charge.

Blog stats

Just as an aside, I do find it quite surprising that this post has got more than twice the number of hits of any other page on this blog. I guess that I need more, in the words of the incomparable LT, “lesbian sex with cantopop tartlets”. But in the absence of that I’d just like to mention that Vivian Chow is utterly mad to want to marry Joe Nieh

A Canny wee place in Wanchai

A common complaint heard about Wanchai is that there are few bars where one can have a drink or two, and maybe a bite to eat, and yet be able to have a conversation at a normal volume, free from the attentions of working girls hoping that you might be up for another type of intercourse later.

So I’ve recently been going more to The Cannyman and it really does live up to its marketing slogan of “An Oasis in Wanchai”.

Food & Drink labelling in Hong Kong

My rant for the week is about both the poor requirements of food labelling in Hong Kong and the lax enforcement of such standards as do exist.

Firstly ingredients: the Government in its wisdom recently introduced new food labelling regulations for Hong Kong. Not content with accepting that if, say, the food was labelled adequately in English for the US, EU or Australian markets then that would be sufficient, they insisted on imposing their own rules and hence requiring almost all imported foodstuffs to be relabelled specifically for Hong Kong, thereby imposing a significant cost increase on the suppliers or distributors and thence price increases on the consumers.

Feeling Old

I guess it shouldn’t come as a surprise, but news from my old school recently has had me reminiscing and beginning to feel old. Firstly the last teacher who taught me (and was still at the school) retired this summer, and today I heard that the founder of the Adventure Training that constituted my annual holiday for two or three years died last week.

There are bits of my youth that I wish I had captured on film to assist my fading memory, and Adventure Training is one of them.