1. Always get off the story with a brisk intro. Like, a seedy leon-lighted alleyway somewhere. You know, night falls, raindrops dripping from the awning in slo-mo, nasty guys with chestful of triad-y tattoos prepared for a bloodshed running in fast-mo while a faceless queue is snaking up outside an eatery without a single complain uttered amidst the boiling culmination of all this. That kind of Hollywood B-movie backdrop to make the readers feel connected.
2. Flash out your pinyin arsenal every now and then. Unpronounceable morphemes that end either in 'k' or 'u' -- suchlike 'juk' and 'ngau' -- are surefire to blow your readers away. Quite what these words really mean is never the business of both the locals and the travelers (i.e. your readers). The former never converse with pinyin in mind whereas the latter will never be able to pick up any syllable you mentioned no matter how hard they try. To gussy up the credibility of your pinyin accuracy, always say that you learned them in your Cantonese classes decades ago.
3. First meal: get downstairs for a lunch with your friendly neighbor. You'd like to go easy with the 'name' move as warm-up. Names like 'ah Hung' or 'ah Leung' are to be avoided as it's proved to be too intimidating for any editor to pronounce and, to make any sense out of. A 'Wong' or a 'Chan' will suffice. Your glutton neighbor, obviously a deidam (lit. a cock on his own dunghill) himself, takes you to a chachaanteng for lunch; or a daipaidong, or a jaulau for yumcha. For some reason, he starts to yap about the meal in some Chinese dialect to you, tete a tete; whilst you, for some reason, manage to assimilate the undecipherable through and get that into English. True, for some reason, locals like to talk to their gweilo friends in Chinese dialect very intentionally despite Hongkong is often said to be an international city with English one of her statutory languages -- and so the whole scene of Chinese talking to gweilo in Chinese dialect makes perfect sense to all your readers.
4. Second meal: go a little bit off the beaten track for the most sumptuous feast of Cantonese cuisine on earth with your wife, who grew up in Hongkong, along with your in-laws, who both are about to die in Hongkong. Needless to say, this 'I-dine-with-my-family-who-is-native-to-the-place-so-I-must-know-the-food-better-than-you-do' tweak is one of the most canvassing moves for anyone to chalk up a logical travel story. Always lay down some groundwork with this prominent move unless you don't mind your work be mulled by the lack of authority. Er, if currently single, consider the Chinese girl you picked up at some bar in Wanchai last night, or your ex-wife, or even the Chinese girl who slept with your wife last night.
5. Still the second meal: with a little lift from your in-laws, you're officially a canonized Mr. Know All of Cantonese food. You find yourself in Sanpokung, a place so hip and now that's quipped as Hongkong's answer to Shanghai's Xintiandi and Beijing's Sanlitun. Ah, San-Po-Kung, such a sun (lit. new) and sun-drenched place to be in (note: when the people from Sun Yee On is not in sight). This is the very moment to dazzle the readers with all the morbid details you've delved up from the first page of google search and wikipedia.com. Like a truly respectful journalist, your in-laws crack up the mysterious past about dining in Hongkong. And like you're the best son they never had, they even tell you about the secrets of making great yu dan (fish balls), ngau yue (beef balls) and mak yu yue (squid balls) -- oh, what a ball you're having. It is also the occasion where your in-laws shower you with catchy lines about Chinese food culture. Such as sik yuen fan (lit. to eat soft-cooked rice). You are also made to promise to try out the dimsum of that restaurant in your next visit because they're equally dim gwo luk tze (lit. straighter than a sugar cane).
6. Third meal: go lunch with a local food critic, whose best friend Mr. Wokipedia happens to work in the deepest end of the F&B industry. As promised, you're showed to the most closemouthed place for a life-changing lunch that is full of awesome Cantonese dishes none of your readers has ever heard before, nor anyone has, for that matter. One of them even tells you the place is, straightly speaking, so brand-new that it wasn't opened until the evening of your arrival. On the other hand, with his 'fusion with a modern touch' in bowl untouched, Mr. Wokipedia spew out a slew of factors influencing Hongkong dining scene -- catch-all routines like cultural melting pot, east meets west, the ups and downs of speakeasies, Hongkongers' orgies with organic food and et al were heard while everyone was busy with the revelationary food.
7. Still the third meal: Mr. Wokipedia's lecture is interrupted abruptly by a phone call from his Filipino maid, who tells him there's some issue with the dried cabbage and snakehead soup she was told to cook tonight because she couldn't find dried cabbage in the city'super store.
Of course, you will skip para. 7, the boring aspect of a local's everyday activities, in your masterpiece. Straightly business.