Crouching Hooker, Hidden Blender
Crouching Hooker, Hidden Blender
I stood at the corner of Arthur Street and Man Ming Lane in
Yau Ma Tei and watched a young prostitute chat up an elderly fellow.
As I waited for a friend to arrive, I mused upon locating a blender in this neighbourhood. It didn't seem probable. I hoped my luck would be better than the day before, and better than a few months before that.
A short while ago, I purchased a blender. I settled on a National, a major Japanese brand, after several days of researching and comparing various models. With most blenders, two problems became obvious: poor quality and poor performance. Most major manufacturers opted for plastic, plastic, and more plastic. Customer reviews I'd read complained of broken teeth on the blade assembly and on the motor coupling.
Call it flawed engineering. High on the complaint list was their inability to crush ice.
I needed something powerful enough to blend ice as well as last long. The unit I bought had a glass jar and a solid-looking blade assembly. At the time it seemed the best choice.
It wasn't.
A short time after I began using it, I noticed the blade assembly began to corrode around the center pin. The blades themselves were fine. But in a matter of a few weeks, the assembly seized. I must have purchased the P.O.S. model by mistake.
Rather than endure crap to gain warranty satisfaction, I opted to find a better blender. I needed something heavy-duty. Something... industrial. Yes, I liked the sound of that.
I remembered that after I'd bought the National, I'd seen a Krups unit at an upscale furniture store that looked to be much more solid. I decided to take a good look at it.
I would have, had they still carried it. The next day my friend Andrew accompanied me to Ocean Centre in Tsim Sha Tsui, as he was interested in helping me. When we arrived I found the Krups unit out of stock. Forever.
Swell.
That meant I'd have to search from shop-to-shop: a tedious process. We visited a few places within Ocean Centre but struck out. If I'd wanted a coffee-maker I would have been ecstatic, but blenders were damned hard to come by.
We hopped aboard the Star Ferry to Central, where at Andrew's suggestion we stopped at the Prince's Building, noted for housing upscale shops, yet not one carried blenders. I was agitated that such a simple item was so difficult to locate.
We then took the MTR to Causeway Bay. My first stop was the furniture store where I'd first seen the Krups blender, hoping that though the Tsim Sha Tsui location didn't have it, this one might.
Alas, it was not to be. Nearby were a few specialty appliance stores, so we looked, though I didn't expect much. They too had nothing.
Frustrated, we went to Times Square, which housed several of the large electronics/appliance outlets. I'd been to all of them before, but decided to look on the off-chance they'd improved their selection.
They hadn't. It was all low-end, plastic crap.
I realised there was no way I'd find what I wanted if I continued going about it this way. What I needed was the same sort of blender that bars use: serious Margarita-making equipment. Andrew recalled he'd discovered, by accident, a number of shops in Yau Ma Tei that sold restaurant supplies. He felt I'd have a good chance of finding the right type of blender there.
I agreed, but it was too late in the day, and those shops would be closed. We made plans to meet the following afternoon, to chase down my elusive quarry.
That's how I came to find myself skirting one of the dodgier areas of Hong Kong.
The zone west of Nathan Road, that stretches north to south between the MTR stations of Mong Kok and Yau Ma Tei, is rather rough. It used to be waterfront, but long since reclaimed from the harbour, it's infamous for prostitution, illegal gambling and other triad activities.
It hardly seemed the place to find a blender, but Hong Kong is like that.
Instead of the North American system of massive big-box retail stores that carry everything under the sun, in this town competitors are smashed together in little zones. No matter what one needs, certain areas are devoted to stores all selling the same goods: computers, paint, gates, doors, plumbing, tile, fixtures, lighting, tools and so on.
I'd known that for a long time, yet it never dawned on me that blenders would be subject to the same rules. I was stuck in the old paradigm: high-end equipment is sold at high-end stores.
Soon Andrew arrived and we made our way to Shanghai Street, where we found hookers and a nest of shops selling a variety of restaurant equipment: everything from ovens to tea cups.
And blenders. Hallelujah, we found blenders!
I was beside myself. We hopped from store to store, comparing models and prices (of blenders, not hookers). I came to the conclusion the two main choices were either Waring or Hamilton Beach. The Waring caught my eye, with its stainless steel jar and solid construction. I knew bars relied on such equipment, and therefore I knew the quality had to be good.
A quick tour of perhaps a dozen shops, most of which treated us as unwelcome outsiders, told me all I needed to know. We returned to the first place that didn't treat us as interlopers, but they had two limitations: they didn't accept Visa (a poor way to do business) and they didn't have a new unit in a box. I wasn't keen on buying a unit that had been handled by countless numbers (and showed it).
Instead I went across the street to a larger outfit that did have an unopened unit and accepted credit cards. We negotiated the terms, and I picked up the Waring. The acid test was yet to come, but anything labelled as a commercial bar blender was going to do the job.
It was damned sexy for a kitchen appliance.
I broke it in right away. My worries about its ability to crush ice evaporated. It didn't crush ice; it destroyed ice. No matter what I blended, it came out non-slushy and smoothie-perfect.
Its quality was unsurpassed. The thing had suction cups on the base, as the motor was so powerful, centrifugal force would make the base spin were it not anchored.
I'm pleased with my new toy. I use it three or four times each day. I take good care of it, and it doesn't look as though it will fall apart.
I may need replacement parts in the future, but I know where to find them. Given the commercial nature of the product, it's a safe bet the shop will have them on hand, and if not, they'll be able to get them. I don't expect I'll have to run all over the city.
Sure, the area is a bit skanky, and it may seem odd that it's the one place that had what I needed. Perhaps there's another block in Hong Kong that carries small appliances, but I don't know about it.
I don't care; the system is what it is. I have to use it if I expect to get anything accomplished. Now that I know where to look, it's one less headache to endure.
Because after all, I was only looking for a blender.
November 21, 2003
Next Tale - Inside A Chinese Wedding