Does Schnitzel & Schnaps Do Central European-Inspired Fare Justice?

I had low expectations for finding quality schnitzel in Hong Kong after several failed attempts over on Kowloon and was quickly losing hope that I would be able to recreate my most memorable and formative Vienna days in fried, frisbee-sized form. At one point, I even considered putting in an offer for a newborn calf at a farm out in the New Territories, purchasing a small plot of grassland on Robinson Road, and picking up a meat tenderizer from Japan Home Centre.

That was until I spotted the borderline-kitsch, Santa’s village of green and gold decor that one day was erected on the ever-bustling second road built in the colony of Hong Kong –  Hollywood Road – where life begins and ends for most Mid-Levels 9-8’ers and self-anointed IFC elites. 

Skeptical, I donned my finest lederhosen, perched atop the Conduit escalator delta, and sent out a rallying cry yodel for all to hear, eagerly awaiting my Hong Kong Julie Andrewses and David Hasselhoffs to bound towards me, clogs clip-clopping up the stainless steel steps with the might of one thousand Clydesdales, in a jovial hunger. Rosy-cheeked and out of breath, they would bashfully inquire, “Vat is it, Grandpapa?” “Over the river and through the woods, to Schnitzel & Schnaps we go,” I’d triumphantly proclaim, plucking at my suede leather suspenders while rubbing my belly and patting an adolescent von Trapp on the head. 

However, that was just a dream and I instead decided to stop in on a Thursday night, sweaty and wearing my third-finest pair of Adidas athletic shorts, after a long day of merciless lashings by ungrateful, entitled clients. I was thankfully accompanied by one of my top herrs, who is about as German as Häagen-Dazs. 

Shugetsu’s Tsukemen: My Number One Meal in All of Hong Kong

Shugetsu’s tsukemen would unquestionably be my last meal on earth if I was ever on death row. This might sound absurd but it isn’t a lie. Shugetu’s tsukemen was (and still is) my number one meal when I was training for a powerlifting competition – unfortunately, I kept eating like I was training for a powerlifting competition once I ended and I developed a crippling tsukemen addiction.

There have been worse things in life.

This Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, a ramen hybrid consisting of a salty broth, 300 grams of al-dente elastic noodles, and fatty pork belly cubes is everything that is right in the world. Pair it with an ice-cold, crisp Suntory Premium draft beer, crunchy fried chicken cartilage “bar snacks”, and half-moon pork-filled gyoza pillows, and your last days won’t be for nothing. 

Dacha: Cabbage Rolls, Pelmeni, & Eastern European Home Comfort Cuisine

Maybe it’s because I am constantly mistaken for Russian (and Bulgarian), or maybe it’s because I grew up eating a steady diet of Eastern European-inspired stews and other comfort foods, but this is exactly the type of fare that I revert to when I want to feel at home. It may also be because I drank about 5 liters of vodka with a Ukrainian babushka and Russian busboy on my 29th birthday at a restaurant in Vienna. 

Cue Dacha, an Eastern European restaurant and bar, offering up a variety of traditional Ukrainian, Russian, Georgian, Polish, and Romanian cuisines, such as mouthwatering pork-stuffed cabbage rolls (golubtsi), cheesy buttery khachapuri (Georgian cheese bread), spicy smoked kielbasa, and hearty half-moon shaped vareniki (dumplings). And, I can’t forget the Baltic herring with homemade bread to start things off.