Hong Kong’s Cha Chaan Tengs

Luen Wah Cafe in Sai Wan, Hong Kong Island.

With myriad favorites like “Chinese-style spaghetti” and pineapple buns slathered in butter, cha chaan tengs (‘tea restaurant’ in Cantonese) are neither the healthiest choice nor the classiest, and with a multitude of chains that imitate their menus, they are no-longer the cheapest either, but the humble Canto-Western diners remain iconic of Hong Kong. 

The charm of crustless sandwiches, colorful tiled walls, miniature booths or square tables with bright plastic stools and old Ovaltine containers containing chopsticks and silverware atop every table make cha chaan tengs hard not to like. The cheap and cheerful attitude fuses with functionality, speed and the general non-fussiness appreciated by Hong Kongers. Businessmen, construction workers, grandmothers and tourists alike sit down to enjoy plates of noodles set down with such haste that the broth threatens to spill down the side of the bowl.

Thankfully, the waiter has likely been deftly serving noodles in haste for a decade—the sodium-rich broth peaking at the rim then returning to the center of the bowl, marrying with the macaroni, tomato sauce and chicken wings as it has for generations—irrespective of financial meltdowns and political handovers.

The historic Hong Kong-style diners are fusion by happenstance. In the 1950s, local business owners sought to offer affordable versions of the cuisine of their new British colonial countrymen. They added milk to strong Hong Kong-style tea and coffee, and fried toasts then slathered them in butter and sweetened condensed milk. The cha chaan teng had arrived.

Local blue-collar reliance on the cheap Canto-Western cafes peaked during the 1997 financial crisis that coincided with Hong Kong’s return to China from British rule. Though the region’s financial stability has increased, the affection gained for cha chaan tengs has not been lost.

In 2007, a Hong Kong lawmaker suggested that cha chaan tengs be added to the UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage list. A poll by the Democratic Alliance for the Betterment and Progress of Hong Kong found that nearly 70 percent of respondents believed cha chaan tengs should be included in the UNESCO canon. The humble cafes, which would have been the first uniquely Hong Kong intangible on the list, were not added. However, a number of techniques typical to the cha chaan teng, including the pineapple bun and egg tart making techniques, were included in the official “First Intangible Cultural Heritage Inventory of Hong Kong” made public in 2013.

Rico Chow, owner of Cheung Heung. The cafe has been in Kennedy Town for 51 years.

Local restaurateur Rico Chow says the tea restaurants are a vital part of Hong Kong culture. “If you ask any person on the street, they have definitely eaten a meal at a cha chaan teng or maybe do regularly.”

Chow is the third-generation owner of Cheung Hing, a well-loved cha chaan teng in Hong Kong Island’s Kennedy Town neighborhood. Cheung Hing is known for its egg tarts and lotus seed buns, which sell out by 2pm. In 51 years Cheung Hing has managed to rent the same storefront, but the rent has increased substantially since the opening of the Kennedy Town station in 2014.

“I’d like to pass it on to the next generation of my family,” says Chow, “but it is hard to say if we will be able to with the rent rising like this.” “I’d like to pass it on to the next generation of my family,” says Chow, “but it is hard to say if we will be able to with the rent rising like this.”

As Cheung Hing serves its last tea and toasts of the day, Chow sits down next to an elderly customer and cracks a joke in Cantonese. Kennedy Town is an old neighborhood, and Chow says many of Cheung Hing’s patrons are second- or third-generation customers who started coming in as children with their parents and grandparents. 

“Many of our customers have been coming here on a daily basis for years so we all know each other around here” says Chow. “It isn’t just about serving food”. 

Aside from their eclectic charm, cha chaan tengs have in large part remained popular because of their affordability. But now, as rents increase citywide, seemingly with no ceiling in sight, the modest cafes have raised prices to keep their doors open. 

Mr. Chun, the owner of Xing Kee Coffee Room, a popular cha chaan teng in the gentrified Sheung Wan district, says that running a cha chaan teng now is nothing like what it when his father opened Xing Kee more than 50 years ago. 

“We’ve had to increase the price of food here because the rent and business costs make running a cafe really difficult nowadays, so the dishes aren’t that cheap anymore” says Chun. 

Xing Kee serves a dish called the rolling egg that became popular during financial downturns. “You crack an egg in boiling water,” explains Chun, “and it cooks the outside but leaves the inside a bit raw, and if you have a bit more to spend, maybe you’ll add some sugar.” 

The rolling egg was an extremely cheap way to get protein and fat without having to spend money on oil or seasonings. It has been disappearing from menus in recent years as the standard of living increases in Hong Kong. Lin says some customers still order it, but he isn’t sure whether it is out of necessity or nostalgia. 

In a city with the world’s costliest residential and retail real-estate per square foot, wealth disparity in Hong Kong has been increasing since the territory was returned to China in 1997. The minimum wage however, remains a paltry HK $34.5 (U.S. $4.41) per hour. 

The five-year waitlist for public housing, in which 48 percent of Hong Kongers reside, often leaves the disabled and the elderly with nowhere to go but “coffin homes”—the caged-in bunk beds that have appeared in Western media in recent years. 

Chen Winjing has been working at Swiss Cafe, an 80-year-old cha chaan teng in Central, for over a decade since he moved to to Hong Kong from mainland China. Chen, who brings his own lunch to work despite free employee meals, says that affordable food is much more nutritious and varied on the mainland than in Hong Kong. 

“People think that in Hong Kong there is such a high quality of life,” says Chen, “but there isn’t really. For most people it’s a hard life.” 

Swiss Cafe sits behind a row of knock-off clothing stalls in an alleyway shaded by glistening skyscrapers. At midday the area is teeming with Hong Kongers on their lunch breaks.

“In this area, if you want to be able to sit down and eat something that will sustain you - a bit of veggies, some noodles or rice, and meat, there aren’t many places you can go that the average person can afford” says Chen.

Common lunches across cha chaan tengs include the ‘nutritious set,’ ‘constant set,’ ‘fast set’ and ‘special set’. The nutritious set is characterized by a glass of milk and some vegetables with a starch like rice or noodles. The constant set—served all day—is usually an omelette of sorts, white bread with butter and a drink. The fast set comes out almost immediately — complete with rice, fried egg and sausage, spam or lunch meat. The special set means handing the decision to the chef.

Cha chaan tengs meals range from midday pick-me-up snacks of warming teas and coffees with oversized toast, to filling dishes of noodles or rice with fragments of meat and vegetables.

The most sensational dishes at cha chaan tengs are generally not the most ordered. Macaroni tomato soup with a chicken wing on top and a red bean ice cream float would be fun to Instagram, but a pork chop with spring onion and an iced lemon tea are a more realistic order. 

Classics like the milky silk stocking coffee and tea and Hong Kong-style French toast with condensed milk and an oversized slab of butter are favorites throughout the day. Tam, an employee at Luen Wah cafe in Sai Wan, says that the mid-afternoon snack has always been essential for cha chaan tengs. 

“People come in around three or four when they need a quick tea and toast for a pick-me-up, then go back to work. Many other restaurants aren’t open at that time, so it is an important Hong Kong ritual for cha chaan tengs that is sort of British and sort of Chinese”. 

As the comparative affordability of mom and pop style cha chaan tengs decreases with sky-high rents and the proliferation of chains like Tsui Wah and Cafe de Coral, these charming cafes rely more and more on other features, like ritual, nostalgia, and the warmth of familiarity in a city in flux - caught between its Sino-British past and its entrance into China’s panoply of prized Chinese megacities. 

“I hope there will always be cha chaan tengs in Hong Kong,” says Chow of Cheung Hing, “but it is not something I can control, there has already been so much change here over the years.