I wasn't exactly expecting haute cuisine in Tai O, but what we found was pretty haute, just the same. Solo Cafe is artsy and feels authentic. Some of those yucky SoHo or Lamma joints are only pretend-artsy, and it's really just touristy and blatantly commercial, which is disgusting.
At Solo, attention is paid to detail. Walls are freely painted with all manners of whimsical fish. The osmanthus tea was beautiful and smelled like my grandma's handbag. Tea cups have little, crystalline rosettes on the handle. Iced drinks are cooled by a singular gigantic ice block, instead of ice cubes or ice tubes. A Shanghai diva sings torch classics like "Cry Me A River" in the background whilst, of course, you are practically seated on a balcony atop a river.
OK, so food wasn't so haute, honestly. Fried rice lacked flavour, the squid was way too oily, broccoli was soggy, tofu was too dense and the chili salt had a dead fly in it. But this is Tai O, so what matters most when things go awry is how the shop recovers, right? A man whom I am guessing may have been Timmy So (he runs the place) gave me a post card (with a photo taken by a certain "Timmy So") and it instantly made me smile.
During our late lunch, we talked Michele Bachmann, Fareed Zakaria, the unemployment crisis in the States - coz, hey, that's the sort of effete intellectual conversation gay men engage in, in order to feel better after a night of mindless partying, right? Well, truthfully it was only I who partied the night before. Greg had already started detoxing by then, Peter was sensible of course and stayed home, and my Chris basically just let me loose on the city by myself.
So anyway, Peter and I each had a hot, deep fried Tai O doughnut after the meal, and it tasted so good.
Life is beautiful.
Life is gay!
With Affection,
James
Solo Cafe
(A) 86 Kat Hing Street, Tai O
(L) Across the "Welcome to Tai O" bridge
(F) Dim sum, light snacks, home made cheesecakes, cookies
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