is it possible to get sick of yum cha?

Hypothesis: It is physically impossible to get sick of Yum Cha (or Dim Sum, depending on the country you're from) in Hong Kong.

Method: Visit as many Yum Cha places as physically possible within a one week period, preferably daily. Include trips to Hong Kong's famed cheapest Michelin-starred restaurants, Tim Ho Wan, One Dim Sum, and Din Tai Fung (Notes for further research: a three syllable name is necessary in order to gain Hong Kong Michelin approval). In order to avoid extended waiting times for such popular restaurants, some of which are reported to be up to three hours long, participants visited the most popular restaurants soon after opening time on weekdays.

Upon visiting restaurants, participants were then instructed to fill in their checkbox forms to order their attain their required daily quota of shu mai, har gow and other such staples. Although trying to show restraint, participants ordered about 8-9 dishes between two people, and were subject to the judgemental gazes of patrons and restaurant staff.

no fuss lemonade scones

Breakfast really is the meal for champions. Eggs benedict, pancakes, and french toast- it just seems like a shame that these foods are relegated to just the one time of the day. Unfortunately, my daily fantasies of a feast of a breakfast are soon dashed when I realise it requires getting out of bed earlier than desired just to fumble around in the kitchen.

on my plate - norwegian eggs benedict

I have a love/hate relationship with breakfast. Under everyday circumstances, I loathe it. Maybe because it’s part of the whole ‘get up early, get ready for work’ scenario (from which I’m currently blissfully detached). Usually, breakfast is just something I stuff in my mouth so I’m not starving by the time I get to school or work, and can remain cognisant until lunchtime. Cereal tends to work best for this purpose: easy to prepare, easy to shovel into mouth, easy to clean up (or abandon in the sink).

But occasionally, when life is particularly good, I adore breakfast. This tends to be during holiday periods, such as now. It’s times like these when breakfast becomes brunch, and acquires a more glamorous identity. For me, breakfast is the ugly stepsister to brunch’s Cinderella. In her ball gown. If you know what I mean.

Anyway. Earlier this week I spent a few days holidaying at a friend’s place on the Mornington Peninsula. One morning, we joined the beautiful people in Sorrento for brunch, picking Sunny Side Up Café as the site of our gluttony. In my experience, anything involving hollandaise sauce is usually a winner, so I settled on the Norwegian Eggs Benedict: lightly buttered English muffin topped with slices of smoked Tasmanian Atlantic salmon and poached eggs, drizzled with the mighty hollandaise. It tasted at least twice as good as it looks.



I’m tempted to try making Norwegian Eggs Benedict at home, but something tells me that’ll just shatter my brunch illusions. I have hazy memories of once attempting to poach an egg, which ended up as a cloudy, watery mess in a pot. Maybe preparing brunch is best left to the experts. Especially when part of the point of brunch is to wallow in your privileged laziness.

Sunny Side Up Café
3297 Nepean Hwy
Sorrento