The way to a man's heart is supposed to be through his stomach. But the surest way to irritate him is to comment on his taste. When the Michelin guide bestowed its highest accolade - the three stars - for the first time on a Hong Kong Chinese chef this month, it was supposed to mark an epochal event. Cantonese cuisine had finally arrived.
But the first-ever Michelin guide to supposedly superior food in Hong Kong and Macau has attracted as much controversy as appreciation, among locals. The recipient - Four Seasons executive chef in Cantonese cuisine Chan Yan-tak - was no doubt very pleased, as was the government, which is, for lack of a better word, a sucker for this kind of recognition. No less a person than finance chief John Tsang Chun-wah was sent to the Michelin ceremony. I have no doubt that Mr Chan's restaurant, Lung King Heen, which is renowned for its creative Cantonese dishes, deserves the honour. Unfortunately, the meagre size of my wallet means I have had no opportunity to visit.
Michelin also awarded seven Hong Kong restaurants two stars while 14 others were given one star. Pretty good for a first-timer, you might think. But, instead of celebrating, many local food critics have been up in arms. What does Michelin know about Chinese cooking, many ask. The guide was produced by amateurs, targeting tourists, most conclude. Chua Lam, one of Hong Kong's most beloved food experts, dismissed the Michelin ratings as 'just a joke ... like a dialogue between idiots'. He was particularly upset that only two of the 20 inspectors who assessed the local restaurants were Chinese.
Local critics' hostile reactions have been remarkably similar to those in Japan; last year, Tokyo edged ahead of Paris with more stars, becoming the culinary capital of the world, at least by Michelin standards. Many Japanese food connoisseurs have dismissed know-nothing foreigners trying to expand their influence and make a quick buck. Why the bitter taste? So what if Michelin is trying to expand into the Chinese (food) market? Isn't everyone? One explanation is that the Michelin guide, by being different from the assessments of local critics, indirectly challenges their choices and taste. It looks like some foreigners are trying to usurp their authority. But the bitter resentment runs deeper, and cuts directly to the philosophical and anthropological question as to the possibility of cultural understanding. Is there a universal yardstick by which to judge food from very different cultures? Can people who speak different languages and have completely different cultural and culinary experiences really understand a distinct cuisine like Cantonese cooking, with its different conventions, standards and vocabulary?
And, aren't these claims of universality characteristic of westerners, behind whom lurks the will to power and domination? After all, the director of Michelin guides worldwide, Jean-Luc Naret, thinks there is a general cooking standard. 'You can be any nationality and understand French or Chinese or any food. Good cuisine is good cuisine,' he said. That may be so, but you don't know what you don't know. As has been pointed out by a foreign food writer, Chinese love food that has no taste but is eaten largely for its slithery or squelchy texture. Such food has puzzled and even revolted many westerners. Shark's fin, sea cucumbers and bird's nest all fall into this category. Could western prejudice be behind the currently trendy and politically correct stance against eating such food, whose harvesting is supposedly cruel and environmentally destructive?
I have no answers. As a native Hongkonger and Cantonese speaker, Cafe de Coral, McDonald's and hole-in-the-wall noodle shops do just fine for me. I have no privileged understanding of Cantonese cuisine. If a Frenchman thinks he knows more than me, good on him. But this may be a function of economics, rather than palate.