A taste of home: Britain’s new wave of Chinese bakeries
Dating back to the late 19th century, Chinese bakeries in the UK historically catered to the diaspora from Hong Kong. But over the past two decades, an influx of second-generation immigrants and Chinese students have created a new wave of establishments, writes Chau-Jean Lin.
A few miles southeast of London’s Chinatown, Greenwich market stirs on Saturdays with the energy of several coffees. Home Bites, a stall with a distinctive Hong Kong banner, tempts palates and wallets with deep-fried pastries and traditional golden-crusted barbecue buns. A sign describes the crusted pineapple, or ‘bo lo,’ bun, with butter, which is hard to find outside of the former British colony. I’m told they’re a staple of Hong Kong’s cha chaan teng cafes, and that the buns have no pineapple in them, despite their appearance. I am intrigued.
Chinese bakeries, and the history of Chinese food in Britain more generally, can be traced back to the late 19th century with the first recorded Chinese immigrants arriving in Britain via the East India Company. Chinese sailors, mainly from the Guangdong and Fujian provinces, settled in the port cities of London, Liverpool and Cardiff, which became the blueprint for Chinatowns across the UK. Chinese goods were hard to find then, even as the population grew to 6,000 in 1931.
Kin Hoi and his wife, the owners of Home Bites, understood the plight of these early Chinese settlers. Encouraged by friends, they set up their bakery when they couldn’t find their favourite snacks and desserts from Hong Kong after three years in Britain. ‘We craved the pineapple bun with butter but could not find it anywhere.’
'British-Chinese cuisine started to develop when diplomats and students migrated from Hong Kong, Malaysia and Singapore'
Hoi and his wife’s experience reflects a broader pattern in the history of British-Chinese migration. British-Chinese cuisine started to develop when diplomats and students migrated from Hong Kong, Malaysia and Singapore in the 1930s, but only took off decades later.
By the 1960s, the Chinese restaurant and catering industry boomed when most Chinese immigrants – many from farming villages in Hong Kong – found work in the industry. Back then, the thousand or so family-owned restaurants and bakeries became a reliable way for finding work for newly arrived immigrants.
Hoi initially worked in a warehouse before his wife and him set up the business. ‘We started the bakery, because it was a way for my wife to make a living,’ says Hoi, as we speak in a blend of Mandarin and English. ‘My wife’s English is not that good, and she loves baking.’
Meanwhile, on the other side of south London in Putney, another family stands under a pitch displaying sweet and savory treats on a rainy Saturday morning. Fluffy green pandan chiffon cakes, flaky anchovy curry puffs, and a rainbow of glutinous rice-based dumplings and cakes called kuehs captures the attention of passers-by.
For the past decade, Ling and Valence Robinson, co-founders of the Pandan Bakery, have been making Malaysian desserts with their daughter, Tamsin, a classically trained patisserie chef. They’ve catered to embassies, fed homesick students, and shared their creations with locals. ‘I like eating kueh and couldn’t find them years ago. I was making them myself and then started selling them,’ says Malaysian-born Ling.
'Perceptions have changed with social media and people being more well-travelled'
Since they’ve opened, Ling notes the boom in Malaysian restaurants in and around London. The shift reflects the influx of Southeastern Asian Chinese immigrants, which began after the fall of Saigon (now Ho Chi Minh City) in 1975. Chinese restaurants and bakeries also began to move away from Chinatowns, as the increasing Chinese population moved to find new opportunities. By the 1980s, only a quarter of the 7,000 catering establishments were in London.
‘In the old days, people would come and say, ‘Oh, look at the pretty colours’ but not try the kueh,’ says Ling as she points to the pudding.
Ling notes how these perceptions have changed with social media and people being more well-travelled. “Our customers are not just Southeast Asian. They’ve been to Malaysia and Singapore, tasted something like it, and come back here looking for it.”
'Younger and older people are now... more adventurous.’
The number of Chinese skilled migrants and students settling in Britain since the 1990s has helped increase the awareness of Southeast Asian and Chinese cuisine like her kueh. ‘We get young people and a lot of university students,’ she notes. The students bring their friends to the stand. ‘A Singaporean student once told me that my kuehs are better than ones from home,’ she adds.
Though baked goods will always be a comfort food for the Chinese diaspora, the kuehs serve as a springboard for others to learn about Malaysian culture. ‘Younger and older people are now more willing to try [the kuehs]; they’re more adventurous.’ It’s an attitude that is telling about the future of Chinese British cuisine.
Back in Greenwich, I can’t help myself but to order a pineapple bun with butter. Hoi heats up a bun and then cuts it in half. He puts two thick slabs of butter on it and hands it to me. I take a bite out of it. Its crunchy crust, brioche-like bun, and soft, creamy interior certainly could remind anyone of home, no matter where that is.
Chau-Jean Lin is freelance travel and science writer based in London. Her work has been published in international and national media.
The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect those of the Runnymede Trust.
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Photo: A tray of spicy anchovy puffs © Chau-Jean Lin
