Red light district meat and two veg with Jim

For an intrepid trencherman like Jim, Hong Kong was ideal, with its multiplicity of restaurants and cuisines. Living in the same block of harbour side apartments as him when we first arrived, Gwen and I were taken to a variety of Asian eateries and enjoyed a few soirées chez Forrester. But Jim did not restrict himself to light Oriental fare designed for the climate. He somehow discovered that the Press Club in Wanchai, the “entertainment” district, put on a full English Sunday lunch one day a week, I think it was Wednesdays. Anyone working on the desk on that day was cajoled to accompany him out of the air conditioned mall where the office was into the hot, humid and traffic-choked real world.

A short taxi ride away, the Press Club building had young, muscular Chinese men smoking in the lobby adorned with what one took to be - but didn’t like to ask - Triad tattoos. A malodorous elevator took one to the club - a “short-time” hotel was situated a few floors higher. Jim’s gourmet celebrity status brought cries of “Jim’s here” from the sweating expat cooks and ensured bumper portions of meat, two veg, gravy and Yorkshire pudding, washed down with cold beer. Then the only challenge was to stay awake all afternoon.

Jim, thanks for the delicious memories. ■