I recently attended a talk by Dr Selina Chan on the cult of Punchoi. She argued that Punchoi, a rural Southern Chinese dish of mixed pre-prepared ingredients, rose in popularity as a symbol of Hong Kong identity in the postcolonial era. The talk highlighted how the importance of food in Hong Kong means that it can often get entwined with discourses of nostalgia, politics, and identity.
This reminded me of another incident when the “Tai Cheong” bakery in Central district had to close because of an increase in rent on its premises. This bakery became famously associated with the last Governor Chris Patten who had developed a penchant for the bakery’s Egg Tarts. So in May of 2005 when the shop was about to close there was a sudden revival of interest in the bakery, and specifically its egg tarts.
For a number of weeks people queued for hours to get the prized egg tarts. The actual line of people became so long that it obstructed traffic and curled around buildings. On a number of days the bakery performed a marathon, only closing when ingredients ran out and nothing more could be cooked. The issue became political as government lawmakers sought to find new premises for the 50 year old business, and Lord Patten was reported to be lamenting the demise of his old haunt. Another excellent example of how food, nostalgia, and politics entwine in Hong Kong’s everyday life.
These accounts also support the argument of Abbas who describes Hong Kong as a place of reverse hallucination where what is visible is overlooked. It is only at the moment of loss, the threat of absence, that Hong Kong becomes animated about its identity, history, and passions.
This reminded me of another incident when the “Tai Cheong” bakery in Central district had to close because of an increase in rent on its premises. This bakery became famously associated with the last Governor Chris Patten who had developed a penchant for the bakery’s Egg Tarts. So in May of 2005 when the shop was about to close there was a sudden revival of interest in the bakery, and specifically its egg tarts.
For a number of weeks people queued for hours to get the prized egg tarts. The actual line of people became so long that it obstructed traffic and curled around buildings. On a number of days the bakery performed a marathon, only closing when ingredients ran out and nothing more could be cooked. The issue became political as government lawmakers sought to find new premises for the 50 year old business, and Lord Patten was reported to be lamenting the demise of his old haunt. Another excellent example of how food, nostalgia, and politics entwine in Hong Kong’s everyday life.
These accounts also support the argument of Abbas who describes Hong Kong as a place of reverse hallucination where what is visible is overlooked. It is only at the moment of loss, the threat of absence, that Hong Kong becomes animated about its identity, history, and passions.
