I spent $62 on a multicourse Michelin-star meal. I had to wait 40 minutes to be seated, but it was more than worth it.

When I arrived at 7 p.m. on a Sunday, a line had already formed outside the restaurant. Kam's Roast Goose doesn't take reservations, so this wasn't too shocking.

While waiting in line, the hostess came over and asked me to preorder any goose-specific dishes. I knew I was going to order the roast goose, so I asked for this item, and she handed me a slip of paper documenting this request.

After 40 minutes, I was called to one of the restaurant's narrow banquette seats.

The restaurant was very busy, but the lively energy was intoxicating. The waitstaff darted among the tables, and Michelin plaques and paraphernalia lined the wall.

There was a small area adjacent to the dining room where customers could watch chefs butcher the goose and other meats. The seating was cramped but charming, and I could see how happy everyone looked, feasting upon Kam's signature goose.

Before I even settled into my seat, my half order of goose, which cost 330 Hong Kong dollars, or about $42, arrived. This dish featured two primary cuts: the upper quarter (breast, upper back, and drumette) and the lower quarter (belly, lower back, thigh).

I enjoyed both cuts. The upper cut was leaner but meatier, and the lower cut was juicy but fatty. The meat was dense but tender, inherently sweet with delicate herbaceous notes.

I've devoured a lot of goose dishes in my life, but this one truly felt like Michelin-quality food. The goose's mahogany-colored, crispy skin shattered like crème brûlée when I sunk my teeth into it.

I had a go-big-or-go-home mentality, so I added the goose-blood pudding with chives (HK$70).

The goose-blood pudding was sitting in a broth that was likely made with chicken stock. It tasted like the pudding, which had long strands of chives on top, had notes of garlic, Chinese wine, and sesame oil.

The real stars were the pudding cubes, which had a voluptuous texture akin to firm yet silky tofu and a mildly gamey taste. The chives also added an herbaceous note to the pudding.

I loved this dish, and it reminded me of a pig-blood-curd dish I enjoy eating for dim sum.

This noodle dish (HK$40) is named in honor of the owner's father, Kinsen Kam. It came with a vegetable garnish, which offered a pleasant and refreshing crunch, and thin noodles coated in goose drippings. However, I thought these components offered more texture than taste.

The noodles had a neutral taste but were very slick from the goose fat, which had a bit of an umami flavor. The noodles weren't necessarily a dud, but I didn't think they paired well with the roast goose.

I regretted not ordering steamed white rice instead, which probably would've been better for mopping up the juices on the goose platter. I attempted to sop up the drippings with the noodles, but this was a bit too messy, and I was left with a greasy film in my mouth.

The staff members reminded me of my Chinese aunties, who (despite my broken Cantonese) chatted with me, calling me "liàng nǚ" — Chinese slang for "pretty girl" — and asked where I was from and how I was enjoying the goose.

They were amused to see me tucking into the goose with reckless abandon and thoughtfully handed me a stack of napkins without my asking. They were so personable that I didn't feel rushed.

My total bill with tax (and before the tip) was HK$484, or about $62 USD. To date, this is one of the cheapest Michelin-star restaurants I've ever dined at. All in all, the meal was 100% worth it.

Everything about my experience was wholesome and delicious. I'd return to this stellar Michelin-star spot in a heartbeat, and next time, I'd be just as happy with a half-goose order and a bowl of steamed rice.