NORDIC EXPRESS AT FINDS BY JAAKKO SORSA

FAT BIRD MADE FROM HANDBLOWN GLASS.
I WANTED TO TAKE IT HOME.

AND THAT OH-SO-CLASSIC IITTALA CANDLE HOLDER, TOO.

NAPKINS ROLLED AND SECURED WITH A FINDS RIBBON!

HOW PRETTY ARE THESE PLATES, SERIOUSLY?

THAT'S ME - HYPERACTIVE!

MENU + ILLUSTRATED MAP OF SCANDINAVIA WITH 'PIN DROPS' ON PLACES WHERE DISHES ON THE NORDIC EXPRESS MENU ORIGINATED. 

THIN RYE CRISPS SERVED ON A BRANCH OF A BIRCH TREE -
BECAUSE WHY NOT?

OH!
BREADS IN A BOX!

TWO KINDS OF BUTTER: REGULAR AND SMOKED (?!).
THESE BALLS HAD A COOL, FLUFFY, AND ALMOST MOUSSE-LIKE TEXTURE. 

OH, THOSE CRISPS.
NOW, THEY'RE ON MY PLATE!

'LIFE OF ARCTIC CHAR' -
FROM ROE TO CRISPY SKIN!

SEXY SMORREBROD
TOPPED WITH GOLDEN VENDACE ROE ON SMOKED EEL.

KINDA REMINDS ME OF THE BIRTH OF VENUS BY BOTTICELLI.

MORE DANISH GOODNESS, ALL IN A ROW -
INCLUDING A PORK RILLETTE DISH THAT THE PRINCESS OF DENMARK APPARENTLY HAD THREE PORTIONS OF WHEN SHE WAS OVER AT FINDS FOR A MEAL.

BY THIS POINT, I HAD STOPPED TO CARE ABOUT THE DISHES' NAMES.
I WAS TOO BUSY ENJOYING THE PARTY IN MY MOUTH.

I DO REMEMBER, THOUGH, THAT EACH MORSEL OF PATE WAS TOPPED WITH ROWANBERRY JELLY THAT JAAKKO AND HIS MOM MADE WITH THEIR OWN HANDS. 

MARY HAD A LITTLE LAMB;
JAMESIE HAD A LITTLE BITE.

AND I WANTED TO TAKE THAT WOODEN SERVING BOARD HOME WITH ME. 

JUNIPER-SMOKED QUAIL-EGG YOLK ?!?!?!??!!

MY BRAIN WAS STILL IN OVERDRIVE,
WONDERING WHAT KIND OF EXPERIENCES IT TAKES TO ADVANCE ONE'S PALATE TOWARDS DREAMING UP SUCH FLAVOUR COMBINATIONS, COOKING TECHNIQUES AND FUCK-OFF FABULOUS PRESENTATION.

OH YEAH - THIS WAS A SOUP. I HAD ALMOST FORGOTTEN.
BROTH IS MADE WITH WILD CHANTERELLES,
FINISHED OFF WITH A FLUFFY CLOUD OPF CHILLED POTATO CREME.

THAT GLACIER-INSPIRED SOUP BOWL WAS SO PRETTY, TOO,
CAN YOU GUESS WHAT I DESPERATELY WANTED TO DO WITH IT?

TAKE . IT . HOME.  

MACKEREL FISH BALLS SERVED ON HOT STONES.

BEER IS POURED OVER SUPER-HOT STONES -
CREATING A SIZZLING, AROMATIC BROTH THAT QUICKLY BATHES THE BALLS AND COOKS 'EM.

IT'S A SHOW.

HELLOOO THERE,
CHILLED, LITTLE CRAYFISH.

I'M ABOUT TO EAT YOU NOW!

OH.
I'M MEANT TO HAVE IT ON A PERFECTLY OVAL PIECE OF TOAST....?

BUT I DON'T DO CARBS.

JAAKKO'S SPIN ON THE HUMBLE 'BEEF RYDBERG' -
VENISON RYDBERG!

THOSE VENISON TENDERLOIN MEDALLIONS WERE SO PEFECTLY COOKED,
I SWOONED WITH EACH MOUTHFUL. THE FLESH HAD AN ALMOST VELVETY TEXTURE.
DELICIOUS BEYOND BELIEF. 

VANILLA SNOWBALLS!
SERVED ON WOODEN SPOONS!
WHICH I ALSO WANTED TO TAKE HOME WITH ME!

WHAT'S A PANCAKE PARTY WITHOUT A SELECTION OF JAMS?
CLOUDBERRY, RASPBERRY, LINGONBERRY, BLUEBERRY JAMES
AND SOME COGNAC CREAM, JUST COZ!

RHUBARB!

I DIDN'T GET TO TAKE HOME ANY OF THE FANCY IITTALA STUFF.
BUT JAAKKO GAVE ME A BAG OF NORDIC CANDIES, INSTEAD!

NO CONTEST - I'LL TAKE CANDY
EVERY . SINGLE . TIME.

Anybody who knows me, knows my appetite - perhaps none better than FINDS' Executive Chef Jaakko Sorsa, himself. Jaakko is a dear friend who has generously fed me on my countless moments of desperate hunger. That's, like, every day. Five times a day. I was FINDS' Marketing & PR Manager over three years. The amount of food I've enjoyed from Jaakko's benevolence would have been enough to feed a small village throughout a season of catastrophic drought. Because of this, the mere sight of Jaakko sends my dopamine levels shooting through the roof. Jaakko's smiling face is a neurotransmitter that tells me I won't simply be eating; I'm going to feast. Therefore, I'm a terrible critic when it comes to Jaakko's food.

I am not a real food critic, either. I'm just a food addict. That's why I got myself a job in a restaurant, in the first place. And so while real crits may pause thoughtfully between mouthfuls to consider taste, texture, portion and presentation, I'm too busy either shoveling entire platefuls down my esophagus or wondering when the next dish is arriving.

That having been said, I have seen how Jaakko's food has evolved and matured to a point where he's serving up complex Northern European dishes as though they were chapters in a whimsical Nordic fairy tale.

"This could have gotten so old, so quickly," I whispered to Adele Wong, HK Mag's dining and lifestyle editor. "I usually think food that requires an introduction - or a set of instructions on how to eat, much less! - is too pretentious for me to eat. I'd rather die from hunger than order a dish whose name I can't pronounce. Just sayin'."

OK, so that last line was a total lie. I'd eat anything. Besides - let's be honest - who knows a lot about Nordic gastronomic tradition, anyway? Not me. And as iconic as FINDS is - its 10th anniversary comes up in spring 2014 - it's not exactly propped up by a cottage industry of Nordic product and service providers that all together help to educate an entire populace. Aside from FINDS, the only other Nordic brands I have relationships with are H&M and Ikea.

Nordic Express is a 12-course magnum opus through Finland, Iceland, Norway, Denmark, Sweden and Lapland. The menu is presented with an illustrated map featuring with a "pin drop" on where dishes on the menu come from. Jaakko then introduces each dish with a story - about the ingredients, about the fishermen, about a country's history and culture - often, personal. The rowanberry jelly that comes with wild game pate was made just 10 days prior to our meal, by Jaakko and his mom.

The food is delicious.

The style - eye-popping, whimsical, fresh, enjoyable, incredible. Nordic topography comes alive on the table, with rocks, branches of birch, moss and herbs so supple, they might as well have been picked from Jaakko's garden mere minutes before they were served.

I've never experienced anything like it before.

I know FINDS intimately; I helped shape (rescue?) it. It has had its moments of identity crises. That tends to happen when a brand starts off with three (!!!) managing directors, a very strong general manager, and a genius in the kitchen. Who prevails, and when?

Nordic Express is the journey we've been waiting for all this time. It has just the one train driver. His name is Jaakko.

It has taken almost a decade to get here.

And it's worth the wait.

FINDS is back.



FINDS
1F The Luxe Manor
39 Kimberley Road
Tsim Sha Tsui, Kowloon
T +852 2522 9318
E reservations@finds.com.hk

BABYFACE feat. MARIAH CAREY // EVERY TIME I CLOSE MY EYES

"Three months..." Chris squinted in concentration, trying to remember the exact date he left Hong Kong for Canberra.

"THREE MONTHS!?!" I wailed in typical overdramatic fashion. "Feels like it's been six!!"

"Three months and two weeks, to be exact," he exhaled, finally focusing an unblinking gaze towards me.

I know that look; I know that tone of voice. He's doing his best not to cause me any more distress. But he's also laying the situation out to me sans sweeteners.

"Nine more months to go," I sulked, "enough time to get pregnant and have a baby."

Before he left Hong Kong to take on a job in Canberra, Chris and I agreed we'd give the new set-up a try for up to a year. And when that year is up, we'd then decide how - and where - to physically be together again. I might move to Oz, he might move back to Hong Kong, we might even move to another city where we're both able to find promising jobs.

MY ADVANCED BIRTHDAY DINNER
SPAGHETTI + A BIT OF BUBBLY

Chris has been back to visit me twice since he moved. Not bad; could be worse; not gonna complain. I didn't even mind the first two months, to be honest. I quite enjoyed my new-found independence. But for some reason, the third month has been especially trying.

"Nights are the hardest," I mumbled, not even bothering to set the table. Chris is visiting all of one day, this time around. He arrived late Friday night and was scheduled to leave early Sunday morning. I intended to milk every second of his visit, which meant not wasting time on a fabulous table setting. Besides, dinner's just takeaway spaghetti from Il Bel Paese - in gorgeous microwavable containers, of course. "I come home after an eventful day, brimming with stories - but I haven't got you here to share them with!"

Chris didn't hear me. Modern Family was on; he had ducked into the study to dig something out of his suitcase.

It was a small package, paper-wrapped by Cathay's multi-talented flight attendants.

"Happy Birthday," Chris said, simply.

I had forgotten.

I'm so horrible with birthdays, I've come to forget mine, even.

"Sweetbean!!!" I squealed. I ripped the paper off, revealing a gray leather case that contained two, sexy, portable, metallic speakers. Almost in unison, the cork popped off of a bottle of bubbly.

We enjoyed our fabulous, gourmet dinner. We laughed with the Modern Family 'til our bellies hurt. And by 11pm, we were both in bed.

He was up at 6am, gathering his stuff for a 9am flight to Sydney. He was getting ready to work through a mountain of post-workshop paperwork from a just-concluded consulting gig in Sri Lanka. I could tell he intended to be productive through the long flight to Sydney and the three-and-a-half-hour long bus ride to Canberra.

At around 4.30pm, my Whatsapp flashed with a message from Chris.

"Got an early bus! Arrive in Canberra at 11.30pm instead of 12.30am, hooray! Happy birthday week, sweetheart. Sorry I couldn't spend all of it with you."

***

Every Time I Close My Eyes is the first track - and the biggest hit - in Babyface's album, The Day. It was nominated for a Best Male Pop Vocal Performance in the 1997 Grammy's, eventually losing to Elton John's Candle in the Wind.

The Day was one of only two CDs I always had playing in the background on my first year of university. The other one was The Look of Love by Diana Krall. I came to terms with being gay whilst listening to these two CDs on endless loop. I was 16 - desperate to fall in love.

Every time I close my eyes, I imagined what being in love might be like.

Finally, I know.

JAMES + CHRIS

  

// THE HYPERACTIVE GAY BOY™ //

 

CAN WE JUST STOP & TALK AWHILE?

The last week wasn't just a whirlwind of Hyperactive events; it was an HI (10) Tornado, where Hyperactive Intensity is calculated as follows:

HI = DW / NEo x nSH

(NEo +/+ NEp) A ^ S

That's days of the week (7) divided by number of events organized (2), multiplied by net sleeping hours (5).

The most volatile variable here, of course is NEo, which isn't always indicative of NEp (number of events participated in). In most cases, NEo and NEp are inversely proportional. After all, DW (days of the week) is a constant. The more events you organize, the less time you have to allocate to events you participate in. In my case, however, NEo and NEp are directly proportional - especially since nSH follows the Law of Diminishing Returns. It's only by keeping NEo and NEp parallel on the HI graph am I able to keep producing the amounts of A (adrenaline) required to secure a high S (success) rate.

THE QUEEN'S SILVER

BEFORE HK1K
AN EMPTY OPEN-AIR LOT

DURING HK1K
WITH MODEL HELENA CHAN
AND COLUMNIST YALUN TU IN THE BACK

AFTER HK1K
AFTER-PARTY AT MAGNUM

I organized HK1K, HK Mag's 1,000th issue pop-up "Hong Kong Hipsters" block party, on an empty lot in Fashion Walk. The event required the support of over 20 brand partners, over 100 support staff (technicians, stage managers, gophers, security, chefs, waiters and bartenders, door bitches, interns, photographers... and so on), managed through 5 Google Docs (guest list, contact sheet, rundown, budget, script and show flow), and mobilized via 5 buses, to pull off.

It wasn't perfect, but it was awesome. I think I did awesome... I'm my own biggest critic. So many things could have gone wrong. But so many things were OK, I'm tearful with gratitude to everyone who had in hand in making it a success. Also, my mom's 9-day novena before the event obviously worked! Thank you Mommy, and thank you God.

KEEP IT MOVIN'!

MANILA

KARE-KARE

HYPERACTIVE AND A BEVY OF BEAUTIFUL AUNTIES

#HYPRFAMOUSFLOORS
THE PENTHOUSE IN THE GREEN LOUNGE
ORTIGAS, MANILA

WITH MY BEAUTEOUS BABY SISTER, LOREN

As if that wasn't enough, I had an 8am flight to Manila immediately following HK1K, for Destination, I Do! - the highly conceptual wedding of my cousin, Mark, to his lady love, Abbey.

Upon my arrival in Manila, my youngest sister, Loren, speed-ironed my barong Tagalog and dress pants whilst I greedily gulped honey lemon water, multivitamins and a whole pot of kare-kare. I knew I had to make an effort to be fit for public consumption. I was hoarse, exhausted and sleepy, which is unfair because my family deserves to have the best of Hyperactive.

The wedding invites were mock passports, the guest cards were baggage tags, the tables' centerpieces were each inspired by a dreamy destination, the cake was a stack of luggages rendered in fondant, and of course, the entire thing was MC'd by Hyperactive. At one point, I had to grab my cousin, Boyang, to share hosting duties. I was simply too hoarse to be coherent. It would suck for Mark and Abbey look back to their wedding reception and remember only that I sounded like a broken accordion.

Luckily the happy couple seemed to guess that I might be at less than my usual 150%, and so they had a Starbucks concession especially licensed to operate at their wedding reception. They're coffee lovers, you see. Naturally, they want their guests to have free access to a caffeine fix. Of course.   

I got back to the hotel at 1.30am, by which time I figured it'd be futile to sleep and risk missing my 7am flight back to Hong Kong. In Manila, if something could go wrong, it will. So my sister, Loren and I, simply called for massages.

I was back in Hong Kong less than 24 hours after I left - too exhausted to even be aghast at the explosion of event detritus all over my flat.

BACK IN HK,
LAUNDRY AND A MESSY FLAT YELLED FOR ATTENTION.

DID ALL THAT JUST FUCKING HAPPEN?!

Clearly, there had just been a Hyperactive Intensity 10 Tornado.

I dutifully scrubbed and laundered and sprayed and cleaned.

Last Thursday was dinner with the British Consul General. Next Thursday is the Guest List event at Volume HEAT. And then Mr Gay HK's send-off for Mr Gay World, and my birthday. Somewhere in there, I have to squeeze a reading for The Maids. And I mustn't forgo my regular workouts, of course, because Chris is arriving next week.

July is stupid!

I am sleepless, restless and running purely on adrenaline.

And I'm still going.

Where I'm now pulling energy from, I can't even tell any more.

Can we just stop and talk a while?

FUNNILY ENOUGH, THIS SONG WAS USED FOR A COFEE TVC DECADES AGO...

 

// GET HYPERACTIVE! //

HK1K

Everyone says they're busy. Me, I'm Hyperactive.

The past three months have seen heightened Hyperactivity, though, because I've been planning the party to mark the year's most important media event: HK1K. It's the local strain of that global superbug known as Y2K, but better 'coz it isn't stressful on anyone - not even on myself, surprisingly. I'm usually a worrywart.

HK1K is the 1,000th issue of HK Magazine, Asia's first-ever free distribution weekly periodical for city dwellers. Every Friday, the magazine is delivered to Hong Kong's best bars and restaurants, cafes and coffee shops, supermarkets and delis, gyms and spas, clubhouses and lobbies, galleries and retail shops. And as soon as our pages hit the streets, a fanatic tribe of readers known as "HK Hipsters" religiously pick them up. This has been a ritual for the past 22 years.

On July 12, Friday, this tribe will gather for the HK1K Big Bash at Magnum (RSVP). They'll drink and dance the night away like heathens, blissfully oblivious to Mercury retrograde. Traveling backwards through the zodiac is only an illusion! The past 22 years are but a glorious pretext to worship at the altar of alternative lifestyle. Cacophonous beats urge us to gyrate - not plod, not march - into the future. See? The past has passed already. What's real is here and now, and what you want to do is up to you. Isn't that thought the sweetest ambrosia to lull your hipster soul into blessed slumber?

The next day, you'll awake unaware that the previous night's hedonism holds any more significance. That's as it should be. HK1K, like Y2K, is ultimately benign. It leaves as soon as it has made its presence felt to you. You've been through it. And although you're not sure what it is, that's ok.

See? The past has passed already. 

But since the next seven days are yet to come, we might as well chat about what's happening, what's appealing, what's pleasing, what's new, what's delicious, what's controversial, what demands an action, attention, what's worth doing.

Before you know it, it's once again the last day of your work week.

Thank Fuck It's Friday.

That's how - and why - we've come to this ritual.

 

// THE HYPERACTIVE GAY BOY™ //

THE 2013 MAGAZINE OF THE YEAR AWARDS

POUTING FOR DEAR LIFE,
MANAGING EDITOR SARAH FUNG & HYPERACTIVE.

HK MAG'S COUNTRY MANAGER GREG CRANDALL (R) RECEIVES THE BEST MAGAZINE APP AWARD
FROM MARKETING INTERACTIVE GROUP EDITOR, MATT EATON.

EVERYONE, PLEASE MEET OUR TROPHY! YAY!

AT FIRST, I DIDN'T UNDERSTAND WHY THE TROPHIES WERE SHAPED LIKE THE TENT CARD HOLDERS
YOU OFTEN SEE IN  BARS AND RESTAURANTS.

THAT'S 'COZ THEY'RE NOT TENT CARD HOLDERS.

"THEY'RE MAGAZINES," GREG POINTED OUT HELPFULLY.
OF COURSE!
*BLUSH*

HERE'S WHAT MARKETING INTERACTIVE'S EDITORS SAID ABOUT HKTAB :)

I was beyond thrilled when I received the call from Marketing Interactive. Their editors have selected HK Magazine's HKTab as Best Magazine App of 2013. We were to receive a trophy at the Magazine of the Year Awards Gala Dinner in The Mira. The one question that immediately burned through my mind was:

What to wear?

The invite said black tie. I madly combed Central and Sheung Wan for a set of Hyperactive candy-striped  bow tie and cummerbund. No such luck. I swallowed my fate. Conformity.

I've organized a few events in The Mira; I know the hotel well. The ballroom was the one spot I hadn't yet been to. Don't know why. I just never thought to ask about seeing it before. I only know that Katie Perry performed there during the hotel's Grand Opening bash in 2009. It was the Party of Year. But people in Hong Kong still remember that event - and how impossible it was to ensure they'd receive an invite, though that's something nobody will ever admit. That one event created the brand. Indeed, it foretold The Mira's position as city dwellers' favourite boutique hotel.

The Mira is one of HK Mag's closest partners. I organized the launch events of our Happy Hour Finder and HKTab at The Mira. They've staunchly stood behind us when we were launching new digital platforms, the audience for which at the time were 0. How much more faith can you ask from a brand?

"Full circle, Jakub," I messaged my counterpart in The Mira's PR team. "We launched in The Mira, we won the award in The Mira. It’s poetic, the journey – but I’ll stop being too fuzzy right now!!!"

"Indeed," Jakub replied. "Let’s just say we’re a charm :)"

Food was fantastic, drinks were OK (I had mostly fresh squeezed, pulpy orange juice because hello - it was an industry event and therefore not cool to be shitfaced), and entertainment was a hoot. It was a Quiz Night masquerading as an Awards Dinner! And that's totally cool 'coz how else do you keep an audience of marketing people engaged if you're not gonna do anything different?

This is big kudos, from one magazine to another. Thanks to Marketing Interactive for the accolade. Thanks to our advertisers who trust in our ability to create great products and build a loyal readership. And to our readers, thanks for inspiring us to communicate with you in ever evolving ways.

Onward!