Lan Fong Yuen has day in and day out led a flock of foodies to its lair of old-world charms, replete with the odds and ends of traditional Chinese furnishings
Michelin stars are the star of Bethlehem in the world of dining, but unlike the star of Bethlehem, they don’t always lead you to the truth, the way, and the light.
The historic Lan Fong Yuen, perhaps one of the oldest—definitely one of the most famous—teahouses or cha chaan tengs in Hong Kong, has no Michelin star, as far as I know, but in 2019 and 2020, the Brussels-based Monde Selection bestowed upon it the Silver Quality Award. More important, it has day in and day out led a flock of foodies, even first-timers to Hong Kong, to its lair of old-world charms, replete with the odds and ends of traditional Chinese furnishings, since it opened back in 1952 as a dai pai dong, an open-air hawker stall, at a small, makeshift marketplace on Gage Street in Central, Hong Kong. The queue outside appears to be a better guide than a Michelin star or a silver distinction stamp on display on the façade of its inconspicuous entrance, especially before lunch. After all, a cha chaan teng is basically a breakfast place, often referencing the blend of eastern and western food in Hong Kong’s colonial past.
What draws people to Lan Fong Yuen is its pantyhose milk tea, more officially known as xi mut nai cha and unofficially as Women Stocking Milk Tea, because the tea—made from five types of natural tea leaves from Assam in India, as some say, or from Ceylon, as others do—is filtered three times in a deep pocket mesh cloth that looks very much like silk stockings before it is served in the teahouse. That’s how they’ve come to describe the brews at the teahouse rather naughtily as “smell good, taste good.” The proprietors of this cha chaan teng were the first to use this method in what used to be a British Commonwealth city, which is why they are credited for “inventing milk tea in Hong Kong.”
But there’s more. The original tin-roofed stall, which had moved around a lot along Gage Street in Old Town Central, remains on the street, looking no more special than the other stalls in the vicinity, but it leads to the restaurant behind it, and many venture inside, as we did, for lunch or for dinner or, in the long afternoons, for snacks. It has its share of celebrity sightings, such as Hong Kong singer Eason Chan, whose Cantonese album U87 was included in Time magazine’s list of “Five Asian Albums Worth Buying” in 1986. Also spotted eating at the restaurant was Chow Yun-Fat, the Hong Kong star in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, a sensational commercial and critical success back in 2000, which grossed $213.5 million worldwide and earned over 40 awards, including best foreign language film at the Academy Awards in 2001.
What draws people to Lan Fong Yuen is its pantyhose milk tea, more officially known as xi mut nai cha and unofficially as Women Stocking Milk Tea.
What to eat at Lan Fong Yuen? The Chicken Chop Noodles with scallion oil are a must-eat, if you go by recommendations. Even more so is the Pork Chop Burger, which seems as famous as the milk tea. For breakfast or brunch, try the Hong Kong-style French Toast, deep fried sinfully enough, but also topped with butter, as is the more unique Condensed Milk Bun. Strangely, there is also a laksa on the menu, as well as the chicken or pork chops served with rice drizzled with an addictive soy-based sauce.
I would have ordered more, but you can’t relish your time at Lan Fong Yuen, with the queue outside having sent emissaries through the servers and attendants to see to it you do not occupy the table too long. I had to finish my tea in a big gulp, standing at the table, having vacated my seat to reassure the wait staff that I understood my time was up.
It wasn’t always this packed at Lan Fong Yuen, which was why in the early years, before the Hong Kong economy picked up in the 1980s, the founder Lam Muk-ho moved it around at first in the marketplace on Gage Street.
All’s well that ends well because now Lan Fong Yuen, with the founder’s son, Lam Chun-jung, running it after his father, is irrefutably an institution, a landmark. No Michelin star required, although of course it will be welcome.