Halo

By P.Ramakrishnan

I’m not sure if there’s a point in plugging this hot number. A sister club to the similarly hip Volar, Halo’s got the glow of a minty new hot spot for those who’ve got serious cash to throw at a barkeep. Just last January did this spectacular looking “private club” open at a non-descript street in Central and without having hosted a celebrity and/or supermodel studded party, this hot spot is illuminating the dark pleasure of nocturnal, nefarious, notorious revelry at its finest in the 'Kong.

Just one trouble with this place. You can’t get in. Unless you’re a member. Or know one. Or know the owner or.. you get the gist. If you’re not part of the elite “in within”, there’s just no point in standing outside while you see a stream of model-lites saunter in while they tell you – the average philistine with gravity-defying-hair-courtesy-of-a-Toni&Guy-ad-inspired-coiff-and-copious-gel – that the place is booked up.

Fortunately for me, I know a member, and a co-owner, and the night I was permitted entrance was the night I was part of singer/diva Rijan’s entourage. Down a risky flight of stairs, a goth-black underground Chateaux awaits. Whisked off to a private atrium (the theme being a sub-terrain house of leisure and pleasure; there’s a living room, library, garden room and so on enfolded within the cavernous space), as this is the place that requires a retina scan at the entrance before you’re allowed in (so you can’t even haggle at the door/flash a tit to get in), THEY know you’re coming and a place is reserved for you. FYI, reservations are required. And they don’t kid about that as on weekends, its jam-packed, vacuum-sealed-with the trendy “it” folks.

Seated at the library, we saw Peter Cheung, a marketing mastermind behind the biggest luxury brands in Asia, and his impossibly fashionable shadow walk in.  Upon a quick meet’n’greet, he sends over a complimentary bottle of champagne to our corner (Peter’s also the uncrowned king of social decorum). Again, if you need to double check the price tag of a bottle of Krug on the menu, this is not the place for you.

Filled with dark promises as the creatures of the night come out at their radiant best, its also the place to find your average Asian popstar rush in amongst hushed tones as they set up camp in their private enclaves. You need to be over 25 to enter (but they’re a bit lax on that rule if you're a model citizen) and as the crème de la crème order the entire contents of page three on the menu, sit in the warm glow of the haves and people watch; its seeing sheaths of your average tabloid come alive.

Oh its good to know someone, who knows someone in a city like Hong Kong.

Halo
Lower Ground Floor, 10-12 Stanley Street, Central
Tel: 2810 1274
Operating Hours: Monday to Friday Doors open at 5pm
Saturday Doors open at 9pm
Sunday Closed
Kitchen last call at 00:30am every night (except Sunday)



Lei Dou
To escape the general erk of Lan Kwai Fong (far too hot, humid and peopled on weekends as every bar strewn street can be), Rebecca Walker, the gorgeous editor of the hip local publication ‘taxi’ escorted me to Lei Dou last weekend. It’s right in the heart of LKF and for nor love nor money would you find it unless you were personally taken there on the arm of someone as in-the know as Ms Walker, who collects such invaluable data for her monthly publication.

“I just love this place,” she said while we walked up a slightly creepy and dodgy nameless building, after a poorly lit alleyway sheltered us from ‘Beerfest’ that raged on just a few steps away. “Come on, it's cool, it’s clean and the people are lovely!”

Er.. right. Getting flashes of my last trip to the seamier side of Mongkok, where my sister wanted to buy a fake Bottega Veneta bag and a cigarette lipped man led us down a blind alley and up a cranky lift to an even dingier apartment, littered with every possible fake-designer dud. Strangled by a plastic Gucci belt the headlines would read I envisioned. Similarly, up a flight of stairs with a far more attractive specimen leading the way, we stood in front of a large black door, again, no sign or indication of what’s ahead and that familiar ominous silence followed the knock.

“And the drinks are reasonable,” she concluded while I pictured asphyxiation and bulb-lit mugging.

Wait… rewind that. Reasonable drinks in LKF? You had me at Hello!

Like a large living room with a generous bar, a fake fireplace, little corners with plush sofas and overstuffed chairs, this dimly lit cocoon is clearly a second home to its clientele. Lei Dou is not quiet a private club but it surely feigns to be, as the cloisters of finely feathered folks (there was a birthday bash we seemed to have gate crashed that night with a fedora theme) seemed to acknowledge each other with hearty hellos.

Signature martinis, decent collection of Australian wines, cool and comfortable with a none-too-shabby menu, knowing you’re in the heart of Central, yet away from the vast sweaty crowd below sure has its benefits. If you need me on a Friday after six, you’ll find me at my non-private-club, which is happy to let anyone in.

Lei Dou
D’Aguilar Street
Central
Tel: 2525 8276

Mink

“There’s a talk at Mink about how to pleasure your partner,” said a voice on the mobile. Already I’m groaning. “Its Kamasutra on the rocks babe! Drinks included!”

Well, all right. So my mates and I clop along Hollywood Road, dotted with carpet shops, art galleries, short-lived bars with dozens of people corresponding with antique shops with nary a patron (and yet somehow they last forever), Indian restaurants, and the like, to find the newly renovated Mink left wide open for our grand, albeit hesitant, entrance.

A gaggle of gals listening to a ‘coach’ on what to and not to do in the bedroom…kitchen, living room, or whatever rocks your boat. For $30 happy hour prices, after a few, it was all white noise and laughter, and really what more does one want on Tuesday after work?

As Mink is between a slew of other bars, to keep its chin up, there’s always some event, promotion, deal, music-DJ-food-talk-cocktail strewn happening, but it really just boils down to atmosphere and service and fortunately for them, the place has got all the right ingredients.

Speaking of which, the house specialty, according to the press release we got, is the Peppered Mink Martini; a blend of pepper infused vodka, seared pineapple, caramel liqueur and lemon - and if that wasn't enough, it's garnished further with cracked pepper. As I heard that evening, “Nice, if you’re into that sort of thing.”


Mink
UGF, Au’s Building, 19 Hollywood Road, Central
Tel: 3171 1989.


UPDATE: Not sure if any of these mentioned bars survived as I write this sentence in 2014!