Traditional Chinese banquet item - walnut shrimp never has leftovers.

“Please, darling. Not Chinese. Not tonight.”

We’re outside the Hong Kong restaurant. The place looks fine to me — but not to the beautiful Diane. We’re up in Hillcrest, on Fourth near University. You can see this part of the neighborhood has been hurting, post-Covid. Pity. I kinda feel like Chinese, and the Hong Kong’s a venerable institution for serving basic Chinese-American nosh. “Chinese Food. Since 1980,” the sign says.

No sign of a name on that sign. Just a simple “HK.” Enough for aficionados. It also shows a loaded wok among clouds in a blue sky. Surrounded by red, of course — the auspicious color.

But inside does look a little lonely right now. It’s only five-ish.

“Know what I feel like?” asks Diane. “I feel like a glass of wine, darling.”

I see they have wine by the glass (and only $4.50) right here at the Hong Kong. But I know Diane wants someplace Euro-cooler. I suddenly recall the uber-cool Chocolat, around the corner at Fifth and University, the spot where Diane and I first jumped off the 120 bus so Diane could hit Buffalo Exchange, the uber-cool second-hand clothing store. I took a wander up the sidewalk while she wandered the aisles, and ended up at this corner cafe where I’d seen folks desserting the night away a while back. So now I take Diane there via University, and hey hey! Not only open, but having a Happy Hour: “2-6, Monday to Friday.” That gives us half an hour.

Brussels sprouts, Chocolat-style. Delish mix of cranberries, shallots, parmesan, $9.

Inside is indeed uber-cool in its white and woody way. We hoist ourselves onto bar stools at the little counter and look for anything HH. First thing we spot is food. “Antipasta, $9; flatbread, $10; Mozzarella, $9; Bruschette, $8.” Then the kicker: “Wines by the Bottle, 20 percent off.” I’m suddenly tempted. By the glass, their HH wines are $10-12 for reds, which is what we want. But by the bottle, $30-40. Barkeep-manager Rachel says you get 5-6 glasses in a bottle, so actually, if we were to drink the whole thing, we could figure 2-3 glasses each. More than enough savings, at say $6 per glass, to justify the indulgence. “Think we can handle two glasses each?” I ask TBD (“The Beautiful Diane”). “You’re not serious,” she says. Then she says, “Maybe. But we’ll have to eat something. So calculate that into your calculations, Mr. Musk.”

“Hey hey! Call me Elon,” I say. “Never thought you’d be so crazy.” What da heck. We end up getting one. A whole bottle. I’ve never done that before. But I am carrying an emergency C-Note in my pocket. And yes, even though I’m trying to impress Diane, we still choose the cheapest bottle on the HH menu, a Tempranillo from Fuenmayor, Spain: $30 for the bottle, or $10 a glass.

“Let’s do the math,” I say. “Thirty dollars less 20 percent means $24 for the bottle. Divide by six, for the max glasses we’d get out of it, and we’re talking $4 per glass — $4 as opposed to $10! Beat that! We’re saving over half on by-the-glass prices.” When you’re counting your shekels, you calculate these things. We high-five.

“Edward,” says Diane. She’s not generally a giggly girl, but now she’s even less so — giving me that look of under-the-brow, alcohol-fueled seriosity. “If we’re going to drink this, we’ve got to have some food. Order something! Before Happy Hour ends.”

I’m feeling a pleasantly silly, but I realize she’s right. Ten minutes to go. We look at the special menus spread around the counter. Dishes include Brussels sprouts, mozzarella sticks, Ricotta and pears — light fare. In the end, on Rachel’s recommendation, we go for the sprouts. Even though I always remember that sulphuric smell of the overcooked Brussels sprouts of my childhood. “My grandmother…” I start to say.

“Sure, sure, but she knew nothing about what people do with Brussels sprouts today,” Diane answers. “See this combo? Sprouts, shallots, olive oil, cranberries, and Parmigiano. That will be fabulous. Trust me, darling, please?”

What can I do? And besides, turns out she’s kind of right. These sprouts come heavily disguised in olive oil and garlic, with a sweet cranberry infusion drooling over them. I’m completely sold on the dish. We share the plate. Cost: $9.

Problem? We’ve only glugged one glass and we’re still hungry. And at $8-10 per mini plate, this is going to rack up. So we stuff the cork down the tempranillo’s neck and head out, back to…the Hong Kong, where they come through with two surprisingly delicious plates. The best bargain — and perfectly tasty belly-filler — is the veggie fried rice at $8.50. I also pay $7.95 for a Tsing Tao beer. And then, oh man — I pay a lot for, but in the end don’t regret for a Hillcrest moment, the walnut shrimp ($19.95). OMG what indulgently sweet honeyed shrimp those are, buttressed by the nutty, glazed-sweet walnuts. Turns out China is one of the world’s major producers of walnuts. Also turns out walnut shrimp is one of the great traditional banquet dishes of Chinese cuisine. It’s called “the banquet dish without leftovers.” Some might say this one is way too sweet, but even sweet Diane takes to it.

So yes, all in all, I guess this night takes care of the C-Note. But we dine happy, knowing we’ve overspent in a kind of good way. And hey, we still have half a bottle of that Tempranillo for another day.

The Place: Hong Kong Restaurant, 3871 Fourth Avenue, Hillcrest, 619-228-1702 or 291-9449

Hours: 11.30am-1am, Daily (till 3am Friday, Saturday)

Prices: Egg roll, $7; hot and sour soup, $3.50; chicken chop suey, $13.95; kung pao chicken, $13.95; beef in curry sauce, $14.95; kung pao shrimp, $16.95; walnut shrimp, $19.95; vegetable fried rice, $8.50; crispy beef, $19.95; pepper and garlic shrimp, $18.95

Buses: 3, 11, 120

Nearest Bus Stops: Fifth Avenue and University, Hillcrest