Fuck Yeah Nom$

Where:
La Table de Patrick
6/F, Cheung Hing Commercial Building
37-43 Cochrane Street, Central, Hong Kong

FYN Hot Tip:  Avoid looking like a lost loser on Cochrane Street because the entrance is actually on Gage Street, next to the 7-11.

Phone:
+852 2541 1401

Price:
The five-course truffle menu comes in at HKD850 (+10% service charge).  If you’re a #luxurycunt who can’t get enough of dem truffle feel$ you can even upgrade to Alba white truffle at cost price.  Which I’m sure is still some serious coin. The truffle menu is running til the end of December.

Full disclosure, I got my invitation on (anonymously yo, cause no one wants to take recommendations from some asshole blogger getting bullshit special treatment).

getmoneysquirrel

The deal:
I received an invitation to try out La Table de Patrick’s five course Burgundy black truffle menu and asked one of my homies, Ms Space Invaders, to come along and jump on that junket train with me.  As I was wandering around outside 27 Kebab House trying to find the entrance to La Table de Patrick, Ms Space Invaders was messaging me updates from the restaurant that she was getting super friendly treatment from the Chef and the staff and she was suspicious that they were in on the wanky blog game.  I assured her that I was keeping shit on the downlow and that none of them should have known that she associates with some opinionated asshole with a keyboard.  When I finally get to the restaurant, the entrance leads straight to the front of the open kitchen where I immediately see where she’s coming from when Chef Patrick Goubier gives me an off the chart, sincere and friendly welcome to his kitchen. Fuck yeahhhh, Chef Goubier is a high chance to be the friendliest ever chef in HK.

Le Patrick de Table is a small, simple space in monochromatic shades of white, black and grey with a dominating red wall down one side, probably sitting no more than 30 people. While the walls and floor may be stark, I am positively shocked when confronted with a pressed, white tablecloth.  I resist all urge to place my face against the cool, white linen and run my hand down across the covered table while cherishing a precious cotton based fuck yeah moment. I regain my composure just in time to order the truffle menu as a friendly waitress loads me up on bread and given that La Table de Patrick is a French restaurant, there’s no surprise that their bread game is killing it.  I briefly contemplate how it’d be a sensible move to nibble daintily on half a roll but I’m a well practiced eating Olympian when it comes to drowning out the internal voice that implores you not to decimate through three bread rolls when you’ve got five rich courses on the way.  FYN fun fact, I find that being liberal with your butter helps to quiet this pesky voice of reason when you’re getting heavily involved with fuck yeah A1 bread times.

Our first course is the “Morel and black truffle egg foam” and I’m immediately cautious, given that the mere mention of “foam” conjures up all the worst memories of that dark culinary time when foamy spurts were ejaculated over everything (particularly flowers and scallops) but in this instance, it’s served more as a light airy mousse in a small martini glass.  The foam is created by using eggs which are stored with the black truffles, so that the egg-based foam can take on dem truffle feels before it’s mixed with morel mushrooms, cream and truffle sauce, piped out and then topped with a few thin slivers of black truffle.  Two “chips” sit perched for dipping by the martini glass, but even better than a fried potato, it’s actually two bread soldiers that have been deep fried in glorious butter.  Fuck yeahhhhhhhhh, I am firmly on board for butter fried carb related carriers which are, not surprisingly, fucking delicious.   I was really into this course but how could you expect anything less than a triumphant fuck yeah when you’re using crispy, butter-fried bread soldiers to scoop a light, delicate foam which gets its depth from the morels and truffles into your face?

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The second course is the “Chilled leek and potato cream, Morteau smoked sausage and black truffle”.  This is served as a cold potato and leek soup, with in the greatest of French tradition a shit tonne of cream.  The dish is topped with slices of Morteau smoked sausage and finished at the table with sliced black truffles.  Overall, it’s a straightorward though well-balanced dish which keeps shit interesting by contrasting the strong, dense smoky Morteau sausage and the fragrant, earthy truffle being played against the smooth creamy, chilled soup.

We are presented with the “Celeriac risotto, Parmesan and black truffle” and I’m immediately on alert when it’s explained by Chef Goubier that the traditional arborio rice has been replaced with small, chopped pieces of celeriac.  Like WTF Chef homie, is this some paleo-grain, low-carb substitution bullshit?  Am I going to be eating a piece of bread made from almond flour, coconut oil and unadulterated sadness next?  Any potential sad grain substitution is staved off by Chef Goubier preparing the celeriac risotto by cooking the tiny celeriac pieces with cream and parmesan cheese before adding some shaved black truffles at the table.  But truth, the subtle earthy and nutty undertones of the celeriac is a fuck yeah partnership with the truffles and by this point it’s clear that who even needs rice when it’s really a sea of delicious as fuck truffles, cream and parmesan that’s making the fuck yeah magic happen.

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The fourth course is the one that I was most excited about after reading the menu, the “Pan-seared pigeon breast, gizzard confit, green asparagus, black truffle sauce”.  I know gizzards aren’t for everyone but I fucking love gizzards with their chewy, bitey texture.  I often wonder how we came to eat these animal parts, like who was the first adventurous homie who spotted this thick muscular glandular stomach which birds use to grind up their grain and stone together before passing it through to their real stomach and was all “This shit is grim but I reckon if I confit it for long enough in some duck fat this grindy bird stomach shit is gonna be rad as fuck”.  Regardless, when it arrives this plate of warm winter colours is beautiful as fuck without being an unnecessarily fussy plate – the pink of the just seared pigeon breast set against the slices of orange carrots and the bright green asparagus spear, dotted with a burgundy-brown sauce.  Aside from the majestic as fuck colour combos, I was more into the fuck yeah textures that kept shit interesting from the crunch of the vegetables, the buttery soft pigeon breast and the chew of the gizzards.  But most importantly, OH MY YASSSS, the sauce was a distillation of what my fuck yeah hopes and dreams are made of, deep and complex, made with madeira wine, foie gras, truffles and the roasted bones of tiny, delicious pigeons. La Table de Patrick carefully provide you with a couple of thin truffle slices to delicately remind you of why the fuck you’re here, but I fucking loved how this course was making a firm point about its ingredients but still showed restraint without pointless showboating about the fact that you’re here to snack down on LUXURY TRUFFLES.

The last course is billed as “Truffled Coulommiers” but given that someone on our table wasn’t doing the truffle tasting course, Chef Goubier presented us with a mega-cheese selection, all matured by the Marchand Brothers.  We don’t get stiffed though and there is still a glorious piece of Coulommiers cheese stuffed with truffles which has been prepared by cutting the Coulommiers cheese wheel down the middle and stuffing it with truffles and then storing that phenomenal cheesy bastard for two days.  There’s any number of fuck yeahhh cheeses but the two that are burned indelibly into my cheese addled brain is my stinky cheesy top bitch, the Epoisses de Bourgogne and the 24 month aged Comte.  La Table de Patrick serve their cheeses with oven fresh buttery brioche and while my fuck no disdain for brioche on burgers is well documented, I make my peace with brioche by smearing it with all the fuck yeah cheese.  In fact, I give brioche peace a chance so hard that my heavily lopsided bread-to-cheese ratios sees me begging a waitress to please bring me more bread and I’m forced to wait ten painful minutes while they bake some of those buttery bad boys for me.

There are a few things that stood out about this meal and in a city which is cursed with a sea of sullen staff or snooty door girls, all the fuck yeahs ever go to the sincere and personable Chef Goubier who is bursting with passion for his food and his customers.  Chef Goubier was so sincere in his goodbye, telling us with all of his big heart that he couldn’t wait to see us again.  While some kitchens rely on truffle menus to gouge you for your cash or just cover up lazy ass cooking by smothering it with truffles, there was nothing crass or bombastic about the way La Table de Patrick were using their truffles. It takes confidence to use a truffle to highlight its flavour without bashing your guest relentlessly over the head that they’re getting their luxury on.  It’s easy in this town to get sucked in by the newest restaurant and whatever trendy hot mess is in favour, but I gotta give some props Chef Goubier for pumping out fuck yeah food which he’s passionate about and through being respectful of the ingredients and showcasing each ingredient’s flavour, he’s combining it to form dishes which have depth and more than one fucking note. There’s something honest and true about that and fuck yeahhh, I can most def get down that that.

Verdict:
Fuck yeahhhhhhhh on pay day cause dishes scattered with truffles don’t come cheap.  I’d most definitely recommend booking La Table de Patrick if you’re after a smaller, more intimate venue for homies who are fucking down with friendly as fuck chefs, don’t mind dropping some coin for food done right and give a fuck about the process behind their meal.  I.e.  ALL THE BEST HOMIES.

Where:
Zurriola (you can check my original review out here)
18/F, The One, 100 Nathan Road
Tsim Sha Tsui, Hong Kong

Phone:
+852 2253 7111

Price:
Yo, I got my invite on.  I’ve included the prices below for the Zurriola menu items.

getmoneysquirrel

The deal:
It’s no secret that I’m a massive fan of Zurriola since Executive Chef Daniel Birkner moved across.  If you catch me on my FY Noms FB (for real though, why wouldn’t you want a random internet homie to show up on your page to give you a ‘Fuck yeahhhh’ when you deserve one), I’ve encouraged any number of random internet FYN homies to check out Zurriola’s beautiful and inventive Modern European food when they’ve asked me for a recommendation.  Of course, it’s also imperative that you definitely finish up that rad as fuck meal with Zurriola’s seriously major cheese platter.  I can’t emphasise this enough, you are definitely living your life wrong if you don’t get all Kanye up in that French raw milk cheese deal and be all “Where are you Yeezy Cheesey??”.

Zurriola are running a game menu in November and December, in line with the European seasons.  As it’s allegedly Autumn in HK, this means we should be getting all romantic and shiz, wearing ridiculous Arctic suitable puffa jackets and cuddling up with big round goblets of bold reds and then celebrating the changing leaves by eating strong, robust game meats of delicious wild animals like deer and boar.  Let’s just push to one side the fact that it’s almost mid-November and most of HK is still puffa jacket free, but honestly I’m led to believe that HK will get cold at some point in time.  NO REALLY, I SWEAR WINTER IS COMING.

GoTwinteriscoming

To console myself with the fact that it feels like I’m always going to be a sweaty-ass mess in HK, I tried to hide my weather related disappointment by eating a fuck tonne of delicious wild animals paired with all sorts of earthy, warm ingredients like pumpkin, mushroom and celeriac.  I got my invite on here, so I managed to get a taste of everything even though Zurriola’s game menu isn’t meant to be eaten as a ‘tasting’ menu.  Rather, you should pick a starter and a main of your choice.  Before flinging yourself head first into all the French raw milk cheese with fruit bread that you can get your dirty mitts on.  So with my Deer Hunter pants firmly on, let me tell you about all the Zurriola game offerings that I obliterated my way through.

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  • Venison tartar (HKD178 +10% service charge):  I have always been partial to the meat of the majestic deer.  Maybe it’s because they’re so damn adorable or maybe it’s just because I fucking love bold, gamey flavours and rare as fuck meat.  So you can only imagine my unbridled enthusiasm towards small cubes of raw venison meat which have been dressed with dehydrated mushroom powder to deliver that fuck yeah umami earthy punch.  There’s also some thinly sliced cauliflower, cauliflower puree and micro-red shiso leaves to gently hint at some sort of cruciferous, anise style flavour. My fucking beautiful, beyond rare tartar – I’m swooning at the very thought of you.
  • Pheasant consommé (HKD108 + 10% service charge):  The pheasant consommé wouldn’t necessarily be for everyone but I reckon for people who can appreciate a super labour intensive consommé which has fucktonnes of flavour layers, you will be all up in this broth based shiz.  Just cooked pieces of pheasant with poached cubes of celeriac and celeriac puree are served in a clear brown consomme made from the roasted carcasses of pleasant pheasants and madeira.  The madeira gave it that warm, fruity roundness and reminded me of the overtones of red dates and herbs that you get in Chinese herbal chicken soups.  If only medicine was this fucking delicious and involved delicately prepared tender slices of pheasants.
  • Paté of wild boar (HKD208 +10% service charge):  This can be served either hot or cold and Zurriola served up the hot version.  It’s a mixture of strong wild boar meat and pistachios, served with mushrooms and pickled onions to cut through the rich boar meat. I could have eaten three of these.  I could have eaten it cold.  I could eat it right the fuck now and be fucking happy with my life.
  • Wild Boar Bourguignon (HKD348 +10% service charge):  This dish doesn’t look that big but it packs a heavy punch thanks to its rich fuck yeah flavours from the wild boar meat, braised vegetables and some water chestnuts for contrast.  It’s not Zurriola’s fault that HK is still so fucking hot that it seemed like this dish was two months too early.  I’d probably say this is your most ‘traditional’ style dish so maybe order this one if you’re into predictable through comfortably hearty fuck yeah dishes?
  • Venison loin (HKD540 + 10% service charge):  This is NOT cheap shit and I guess those wild running European Bambis aren’t cheap by the time you hunt them down and air-freight their chilled adorable carcasses to Hong Kong.  I assure you that this was a special fuck yeah moment though, beautiful pieces of venison loin served with a puree of creamy, sweet Hokkaido pumpkin, a flourish of a Hokkaido pumpkin ribbon twisted into a flower and just candied ‘black’ walnuts.  Of course it was all art and beautiful as fuck.  But not as beautiful as it was eating this gloriously tender fuck yeah venison loin.  I was so taken by the ‘black’ walnuts that I asked for more details.
    FYN Fun Fact – a Lesson in Nutz:  Black walnuts are actually green walnuts which are picked unripe before the nutshell is built. These labour intensive fuckers than require pricking with needles and are watered for 10-14 days, requiring more needle pricking every damn day because it allows tannic acid to be discharged at the prick holes.  When all that laborious shit is done, the nuts are boiled in a syrup or broth to taste. These needy nutty bastards are then usually packed and sealed either in mason jars or vacuum bags and left alone for roughly a year.  You’ll be pleased to know that regardless of how long these inky beauties took to take this form, I managed to snack these up in mere seconds.
  • Ballotine of Deer Loin (HKD580 +10% service charge):  Fuckkkkk, I can’t lie to you and pretend that any dish that starts with a five handle is anything but really fucking expensive  But if it’s pay day, I’d say this ballotine is a boneless fuck yeah wonder.  Zurriola take the deer loin and roll it into a round, egg like shape.  It’s then served with a celeriac puree, Black Trumpet Mushrooms and a jus sauce that’s so fucking incredible you’ll want to bathe in it. If it was socially acceptable I totally would have licked the fucking plate.
  • Deer Shoulder 48/48 (HKD378 + 10% service charge):  While it may have a title that sounds a bit like a Justin Timberlake album, it is to signify that the deer shoulder has been cooked at 48 degrees Celsius for 48 hours.  Our waiter brings out the cooked deer shoulder to show it to us before it’s returned to the kitchen for slicing.  The menu might simply declare it as having ‘Brussel Sprouts’ and ‘Salsify’ (the root of the oyster plant) but of course it’s all fancy fucker times with individual brussel sprout leaves and swooshy black liquid trails painted across our plate.  The 48/48 deer shoulder has been seared before serving so it’s does get some char to it and it’s not an insipid mess that was cooked in a warm water bath.  SO FUCKING DELICIOUS.

One thing that I just cannot jive with at Zurriola is their fuck no plastic placemats which look like carpet underlay material.  While I’m all up in the food and there’s a fuck yeah harbour view, I just don’t think the dining room is modern enough to be trying to pull of plastic underlay placemats while charging HKD500+ for mains.

Despite dreaming about the cheese plate all day, I didn’t demand satisfaction at this point.  If only because I’d eaten my way through a small mob of delicious, tender deer at this point in time and was full as fuck.  One thing to note is the warning that you might find the odd piece of shot in their dish in a nod to authenticity and a sign of quality.  Unfortunately, no bad ass lead filled treats for me and I can report that my game meal was just full of fuck yeah delicious sauces and wild game.  If you’re jonesing for dem venison and wild boar feelings, it’s time to get involved before the end of 2015.

Verdict:
Fuck yeahhhh, cause oops I did it again, got lost in the game oh baby baby.  But fair warning, if you’re gonna pile in for the expensive venison related items make sure it’s on pay day.

 

 

Where:
GOLD by Harlan Goldstein
Level 2 , LKF Tower
33 Wyndham St.
Lan Kwai Fong, Hong Kong

Phone:
+852 2869 9986 (or unbelievably for HK – FUCK YEAH, ONLINE BOOKING)

Price:
Steak or lobster set dinner is HKD388 (+10% service charge).  Full disclosure homies, I got my free eats on – fuck yeah nom$. With wine and a few extras, you’d probably get out total at around HKD700-800.

getmoneysquirrel

The deal:
Steak Frites was the hot 2014 trend where every second restaurant which opened in HK was peddling some sort of steak and fries combination, slathered predictably in some secret, signature sauce.  La Vache set the scene and then the similarly named L’Entrecote de Paris and Le Relais de l’Entrecote followed.  I gotta be real, I’m not really down with that French L’Entrecote style where they cut your steak up and serve it in a bed of sauce, over some tealight candles.  Maybe it’s a function of how fucking greedy I am, but I’ve never really struggled with finishing my steak and wishing it had been kept warm by poncy candlelight. But more than anything, I fucking hate receiving a pre-cut up steak – hey French steak homies, tell me why I can’t cut up my own fucking steak??

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Cut to the summer of 2015 and I now look fondly on the HK halcyon steak frite trend days versus the fucking atrocious fusion Korea food trend (Italian/Korean, Mexican/Korean – WHY IS THIS A FUCKING THING) and the +HKD150 burgers trend that HK is gripped by at the moment.  Harlan’s restaurant GOLD in LKF is offering this summer special til the end of August and I got my fuck yeah nom$ on with Ms This is Bullshit, my rare steak friend 4 lyfe.  The deal for everyone else that isn’t an opinionated asshole with a blog is HKD388 (+10% service charge) for either the 10oz prime grade steak or a 9oz Maine Lobster Tail served with unlimited green salad and fries.  I ain’t ever going to swing Team Lobster vs Team Beef, so I can’t advise on how Gold’s lobster is.

Ms This is Bullshit and I are all over oysters so we kick proceedings off with a couple of oysters.  As Gillardeau No. 1 oysters, it means that shit is large and in charge.  But as premium air freighted jet-fresh oysters, shit ain’t cheap either with each one clocking in at HKD58 (in addition to the steak frites set).  These briney bastards are everything I want from an oyster – firm with enough texture to verge on being crunchy with a nutty, creamy, slightly metallic tone.  I guess your choice here is to figure out if you’re cool with paying HKD58 for a singular fuck yeah oyster and if you are, get involved homies cause shit was rad.  If not, I guess figure out how you can import some live Gillardeau oysters on your own into HK for cheaper.

Some fresh foccacia is served but take my advice and leave this to save valuable stomach real estate for superior deep fried potatoes later.  The included green salad arrives and it’s actually more impressive than I thought it would be.  I was anticipating a functional though dull garden salad that you unenthusiastically chew your way through in a token nod to not being a total fat fuck who only desires to subsist on high GI carbs made from refined wheat, deep fried potatoes and various hunks of animals.  But Gold’s salad had a bit of that Asian thing going for it, reminiscent of the fuck yeah Nikuya 298 sesame salad (sorry homies, I never got around to writing it the fuck up).  Salad greens were fresh as fuck and wasn’t too heavy on the bitter greens (fuck no to salads which get too rocket / radicchio happy), toasted walnuts to give dat healthy shit some texture and most importantly, consistently tossed with a fuck yeah dressing with ginger, sesame, soy and some lemon to cut through it all.

But as if anyone really picks a steak experience on salad so it’s time for the main event, the 10oz USDA All-American super prime grade 60 day wet aged rib eye steak. Ms This is Bullshit and I had been trading messages all week about how fucking excited we were to get our rare steak times on because we want our steak to be just a shade above bloody. Gold’s steak thickness is in the middle – not being too thin but not being one of those mega-thick monsters either.  Despite this, Gold’s steak gets a fuck yeah in execution – a good char on the outside, bang on rare on the inside and for more impressive fuck yeah points, despite it being cooked rare, the steak’s fat is nicely melted through and not congealed in cold, white lumps of fuck no sadness.  It’s served with a fuck yeah jus and a whole bulb of roasted garlic.  UNFFFFFF, roasted caramelised garlic can get some.  10oz is definitely a decent fucking amount of steak but in an indication of its fuck yeah status, I forced myself to eat slowly because I wanted this fuck yeah steak to last forever.

I gotta give a shout out to the fries as well.  I fucking hate it when restaurants start dicking about with fancying up fries – either cutting them too thin into almost potato strings (so there’s no soft interior to them) or just cutting them into thicker duck fat fried chips (hai Butchers Club, imma looking at you).  I have no issue with deep fried taters in most forms but if I’m signing up for fries, I’m expecting mother fucking shoestring fries.  Gold don’t fuck about and the shoestring fries game is tight – scoring fuck yeahs on the crunchiness, temperature and no fucking about with the size/width.

If you wanna keep powering through, there’s the option to add a ‘liquid nitrogen creation dessert’ for +HKD68.  While I can’t get behind the choice to use hashtags in the promo of #tasty and #refreshing (stahhhp Harlan), I can get behind appropriately light desserts after smashing through an epic 10oz steak and all the deep fried fries.  The enigmatically named ‘liquid nitrogen creation dessert’ consists of smashed frozen yoghurt chunks, on top of an almond crumble with some thin slices of dehydrated / liquid nitrogen blasted apple.  It’s not as epic a fuck yeah as my one true love, the dessert platter at Penthouse, but even I’ll concede that this fat fucker might have struggled to take anything heavier after a massive steak frites feed.

So, when you’re weighing up whether you’re gonna go to Gold for Steak vs Lobster Frites, I’ll be real – this isn’t the cheapest deal in town but considering what other places are charging for high quality steaks it’s not the most expensive either at HKD388 (+10% service charge).  For your reference, the other steak options around town include:

  • La Vache – steak frites + a salad = HKD278 (+10% service charge)
  • Le Relais de l’Entrecote – steak frites + a salad = HKD288 (+10% service charge)
  • L’Entrecote de Paris – steak frites + a salad = HKD268 (+10% service charge)
  • Bistecca – American USDA Prime Grade Beef Fillet 8oz only = HKD398 (+10% service charge)
  • Porterhouse by LARIS – ehhh these newly established assholes have helpfully put a menu up without any fucking prices, but I remember their steak only being around HKD398 (+10% service charge) for an 8oz steak.  Sorry homies, no FYN guarantee of factual accuracy.
  • Butchers Club Steak Frites – varies depending on the cut but HKD550 (+10% service charge) for a 14oz 40 day dry aged bone-in rib eye + duck fat fries and a wedge salad.  You may or may not end up dining without power and having a waiter smash espresso martinis all over you.

I know almost everyone has a massive hard on for La Vache but I’m too fucking cantankerous to deal with their no booking policy and I just cannot with having my steak pre-cut for me cause I’m not a five year old child and I do know how to use a knife.  So if you love the La Vache deal, don’t be an asshole and go to Gold and spend the whole night bitching about how you miss the neon cow, the dessert cart and the extra HKD100+ this is costing you.  However, I really fucking enjoyed the steak frites set at Gold and fuck yeah, I can get behind a super solid 10oz juicy, tasty as fuck steak with the unlimited fries/salad for the HKD388 price point.  You might roll out of there at more than that by the time you add in red wine and oysters, but that’s gonna happen at any other steak frites joint too.

Verdict:
Fuck yeahhh, I got dem USA rare beef feels and I was dreaming about that juicy fucker for days afterwards.  Imma going back before this Summer deal’s over on my own bucks.

Where:
Schragels
17 Po Yan Street
Sheung Wan, Hong Kong

Phone:
+852 9730 6727  (whatsapp!!!) or fuck me, you can even email them at bagels@schragels.com.  SHIT HOT DAMN, MEET GEORGE JETSON THIS FEELS LIKE THE FUTURE.

Price:
HKD670 for the Mr Schragel’s Knows Best full spread (a dozen bagels, 300g of cream cheese spreads, 300g lox/smoked salmon).  FYN DISCLOSURE – I totally freeloaded this one.

The deal:
Although I fucking hate being called a food blogger (that’s because most food bloggers sound like fucking morons on a gratuitous adjective abuse bender), I gotta face the facts that I fucking write about food so ipso facto looks like I’m a bona fide food blogging asshole too.  I’m not sure if the broader public realises just how rampant this practice is – that is, if you have a moderately popular food blog, restaurant peeps will offer you free shit because who doesn’t love a bit of publicity for their restaurant with a healthy dose of oh-so-oh-so-oh-so divine to-die-for bullshit tagged onto it.  Some foodie blogging assholes don’t disclose this at all and just write it up like a normal review (this is usually tipped off with pictures of them with the Chef, gushing about how nice and friendly said Chef is and “Oh my! Chef Ballbag was so delightful and sent our way a complimentary symphony of sumptuous starters”). Which we all know is a Mega Deceitful as Fuck Dickbag Move.  Other foodie assholes love to post these long as fuck diatribes in their bio section (normally titled a ‘Manifesto’ or a ‘Code’) about how they aren’t for sale and that they always disclose if they don’t pay for a meal and that their opinion can’t be bought.  Which means they will indicate somewhere in the blog entry that they were there ‘by invitation’.

So while FYN has not been inundated with requests to get my free eats on (probably because who wants to give some foul mouthed cocksucker a free meal only to get pasted publicly as a fuck no), every now and again I get the occasional offer, normally from someone who claims to be a FYN fan (which my vanity can totally get behind).  Fuck no to the PR firm that tried to flush my identity out by offering me a free Cali-mex burrito though. Oh no you didn’t, cause even a greedy as fuck, freeloading wannabe food eating asshole such as myself still has some fucking self-respect limits which are higher than a Cali-mex burrito.

Anyway, because FYN is into ethical shiz and not into a) being a deceptive, cash for comment douchebag b) writing long as fuck blogging manifestos that no one is gonna care enough to read, our graphics team has been slaving away night and day to create a bold and simple graphic that you can always look for if I’ve received a freebie.  Check this shiz out:

getmoneysquirrel

I’d been chatting to Rebecca Schrage (owner of Schragels) on FB (shameless plug, add FY Noms on FB if you want a homie who randomly shows up on your FB to give your statuses a fuck yeahhhhhh.  Like Fuck Yeah Noms on FB if you wanna be rad and show your Tinder matches that you’re into the good shit) when she offered to hook me up with some bagels after professing to her my deep fuck yeah love of bagels with no obligation to write about shit. This sent me into a nostalgic as fuck gluten filled flashback to when I was jet lagged as all fuck in New York and I took it upon myself to be that smug as fuck morning person, setting up outside Tompkins Square Bagels at the ungodly hour of 6:45am before they opened, judging everyone else for sleeping their lives away while carpe diem bitches, my fucked up circadian rhythms allowed me to be the closest I’ll ever get to being one of those Lululemon clad mindful assholes who runs 20km and smashes a green goddess juice before the sun even rises #killingit #namastebitches.

Schragels gave me a Mr Schragel Knows Best selection which comes in a massive fuck off brown paper bag. Twelve dense gluten filled bagels, 300g salmon and 300g schmears (scallion cream cheese and honey pecan cream cheese). Schragels hand roll their bagels and bake each one on its own stone.  There’s a range of savoury bagel flavours – boring ass plain, garlic, poppy seed, sesame and the all in ‘everything’ topping.  I picked up my stash direct from Schragel’s industrial kitchen (delivery facts:  pick up available for a half-dozen bagel order, delivery available for orders over HKD300 and delivery’s free to Central when it’s over HKD800) and I gotta be real, I was so fucking beside myself with excitement that I didn’t even make it home before I got me some bagel action. Mr Noms and I veered off into a nearby park, commandeered a Chinese chess table, rolled our singlets up to reveal our bellies, threw some sunflower seeds on the floor, argued about the horse racing and got our bagel eats on while some old HK dudes gave us The Look for stealing their weekend hang spot. I’m generally a bagel traditionalist – poppy seed or sesame seed bagel with cream cheese, salmon and capers and fuck yeahhhh, my parkside Schragel bagel time was giving me DEM CHEWY GLUTEN FEELZ.  I’m got big love for a chewy dense bagel where a homie has gotta do the chewing work.  A special mention for the Schragel’s large ass piquant, briney capers which were giving me life. But despite generally swinging savoury, I was fuck yeah in love with the raisin cinnamon bagel with the honey pecan cream cheese schmear. Punchy levels of cinnamon which I could totally get behind cause I’m a full on down and dirty slut for cinnamon. When I’m making blueberry pie I usually add 2.5 times the recommended cinnamon, cause fuck that one scant teaspoon bullshit. This cinnamony bad boy would have been rad as fuck toasted with butter, not that I’d ever know cause the only raisin cinnamon bagels that managed to make the arduous taxi journey home were in mah belly.

I did manage to cart back some of the savoury bagels home and I called up my US Super Coach (ie. my homie who made me do multiple drafts of my NYC itinerary before I was officially declared ‘good to go’) to get his ass over and try some bagels to give me some more reputable American opinions.  My East Village homie was impressed enough to say probably the best you can get in HK.  I get it yo, as if anything could ever stack up to a Fuck Yeah Murica though.  So fuck, I know I got a freebie on this one but I’m so fucking down to order again and spend my own ca$h.  Check it out homies and if you think it’s bullshit you should totally call me out on my lemon stealing money grabbing whorish ways.

getmoneybitch

Verdict:
Fuck yeahhhhhhhh, get bagels bitch.  I’m ready for some more of dem chewy gluten feels. For further information, you should check out www.schragels.com.  THAT’S WWW DOT SCHRAGELS DOT COM.

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