3 min read

THE RICKSHAW BOY - PART 3 (THE DIM SUM YEARS)

It was a clear sign of our mutual evolution that we'd left behind those nocturnal nights playing International Superstar Soccer in the basement of his family home (what I now look back on as a Hong Kong spaceship, stationary and permanently docked, and yet a complete world and culture contained within itself) where aunties slept in cupboards under the stairs and the smell of durians kept us wide awake as we battled it out as Russia vs Czech Republic on the N64 playing Hans Zimmer soundtracks until early dawn.

The next stage of our friendship/brotherhood was what I now think of as 'The Dim Sum Years' when we regularly frequented 'The Mayflower' restaurant in Bristol which seemed to have the atmosphere of a classic 1980s John Woo movie and where they served Dim Sum until three in the morning, perfect for our late night conferences discussing love, life, and film. Occasionally we would venture up to Chinatown, London ('Yuatcha', 'Gerrard's Corner' or 'Royal China') or sometimes I would even head further up North with Rickshaw's older brother where their Uncle Wing, known as the 'Bruce Lee of the Manchester restaurant scene,' would gift us tickets to attend football matches at Old Trafford. Rickshaw, a devoted Liverpool fan, had no interest in attending a Man Utd football match so would decline any offers to join us, integrity I respect to this day.

But perhaps the most valuable thing, even above our ever-deepening bond of friendship over those formative years, was my increasing confidence in ordering off the Dim Sum menu and actually being trusted by my HK brothers to order on their behalf with only the occasional addition of chicken feet, deep-fried turnip or some spicy one pot dish that resembled the garbage chamber in Star Wars thrown in as a curve ball.

The classic order I would most often revert to would include King Prawn Dumplings, Beef Dumplings, Glutinous Rice In Lotus Leaf, Cheung Fun of all varieties, Pork, and Lotus Buns. Steam Rice with Chinese Sausage And Chicken was also a staple, as was House Special Congee.

I also learned to double-tap the tablecloth when jasmine tea was poured into my cup. It was explained to me that Emperor Qian Long used to disguise himself amongst ordinary people in order to better understand how they lived. Legend has it that on one occasion when he was sat incognito in a local restaurant, he had to find a way to show his gratitude for his tea being poured by his servants. Rather than reveal himself by bowing, he simply discreetly tapped the table twice with two fingers instead.

Finally, we would often finish off our feast with some chilled coconut mousse, chilled mango pudding and egg tarts before heading back down the motorway in Rickshaw's Jag XF  playing some retro canto pop compilation he had put together for such times as these. Having a soundtrack for every occasion was essential to Rickshaw, especially Christmas.

I'll admit there was a sort of decadence to our after-midnight 'Mayflower' ritual back then but at the same time we both believed, rightly or wrongly, that we were surfing on different time zones around the globe, Rickshaw on HK time, me on L.A and so were exempt from the conventional working hours that those around us appeared to be keeping. We were, I suppose, Dim Sum Vampires, gorging ourselves on Buns, Funs, and Sticky Rice returning to our more Western semblance of reality stuffed to our gills on the tastiest 'Eastern' food known to humanity.


Lately, I've been thinking a lot about how buddy movies can heal the world in this age of rabid identity politics. I like to think of Rickshaw and I as the Eddie Murphy and Nick Nolte of our time and if we ever do get around to finally presenting our feature film to the world then we can sleep peacefully knowing that we've finally transferred all the cross-cultural banter, affection and hostility that we slow cooked all those many nights in 'Mayflower' into a bonafide masterpiece.

And the name of this masterpiece, I hear you ask?

"Rickshaw!"