Sweet, savoury and superbly sticky, Hong Kong chicken is a Sino-South African culinary classic. So, why is it almost unknown outside of the Eastern Cape?
Durban has bunny chow and Gqeberha (formerly Port Elizabeth) has Hong Kong chicken. This defining, iconic dish is not only a standard feature on all Chinese restaurant menus in the city, but is also much loved and made by home cooks of all ethnic origins.
Such is the importance of Hong Kong chicken in PE that Annelie Oosthuizen, Executive Chef of The Boma restaurant, incorporates it into her annual Heritage Day buffet – which also includes bobotie, oxtail potjie, chicken breyani, chakalaka, umngqusho, biltong and braaivleis, because: “this reflects our specific blend of cultures in historical Nelson Mandela Bay. We are a culinary melting pot that is not found anywhere else in the world. The Khoisan, Xhosa, Dutch, Malay, Mfengu, Chinese, Indian and British all brought ingredients and cooking techniques that now make up the Port Elizabeth table.”
While the dish is venerated in Gqeberha (and to a lesser extent in East London) it is almost entirely unknown outside of the Eastern Cape.
A unique and epic Afro-Asian experience
Chef Jacques Pepin famously said that: “a recipe captures a moment in time”. Hong Kong chicken perfectly proves his point. It encapsulates a unique and epic Afro-Asian experience.
According to Melanie Yap and Dianne Leong Man (authors of Colour, Confusion and Concessions: The History of The Chinese in South Africa), many of Eastern Cape’s South African-born Chinese people are descended from migrants who arrived here in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. While most of those who went to the Transvaal were Cantonese, the Eastern Cape arrivals were predominantly Moi Yean. The coastal and inland communities were separated by distance and ethnicity. While the division was not absolute, it may explain why the recipe for Hong Kong chicken did not spread outside the Eastern Cape.
Hong Kong chicken is deeply delicious and definitely deserves nationwide recognition. One of the reasons it is not better known is the reluctance of those within the Eastern Cape Chinese community to discuss their culinary creation. Several people that I spoke to were uneasy about media exposure and asked not to be named.
Over a century of southern African colonial rule, then apartheid and now xenophobic discrimination, have made knowledge keepers understandably wary when discussing cultural heritage with outsiders. And yet there is intense pride in their epicurean invention.
One anonymous PE person told me that: “We know that Hong Kong chicken is unique to our community. If you ask Joburg people, they don’t know it or if they do they know it as a PE thing. If you ask newly arrived Chinese from China to make it, they have never heard of it. They tell you it is not real Chinese food, but those working in PE restaurants learn fast because here it’s a must-have skill. When PE people move away, they long for it overseas. It is the taste of this city. Last week I said to my visiting granddaughter ‘What do you want me to make you before you go back to Australia?’ and she said ‘Hong Kong chicken’.”
Get the recipe: Hong Kong chicken
So, what is it and who first cooked up this revered recipe? Having consulted numerous chefs and home cooks I am aware that there are almost as many Hong Kong chicken recipes as there are people with Chinese ancestry in Port Elizabeth. Each family has their own formula. Everyone believes that their mother makes the best Hong Kong chicken.
Most recipes have certain standard features. They almost all include sugar and/or syrup, soy sauce, ginger, garlic, chilli, spices, sesame oil and some sort of fortified wine. While most cooks recommend Shaoxing rice wine, some say that it can be substituted with local dry sherry or even brandy.
Almost everyone I spoke to told me to use a combination of light and dark soy sauce – the latter is said to bring a hint of sweetness as well as a beautiful brown shine to the chicken skin, while the former adds intense umami depth of flavour.
Read more: AirFryday: ‘Maak ’n plan’ cheesy vegetables bake
Spice recommendations were many and varied but most commonly included some combination of dried citrus peel, star anise, fennel, cinnamon and cloves. Some said I needed to source rock sugar – which is a light, amber-coloured crystallised sugar that is less sweet than South Africa’s standard stuff – but most cooks used white sugar and/or golden syrup. Stove-top wok cooking was the most common method, but some suggested oven-baked versions.
Too confused to continue cooking? There is a readymade sachet sold by the Little Swallow restaurant for those seeking quick-fix authenticity.
And then there is the Coca-Cola controversy. Some time in the late 1960s or early ’70s, as the dish gained popularity and spread to cooks outside of the Chinese community, it went rogue. The 1974 Grey Primary School fundraising cookbook (Cooking the Grey Way) has a version that includes both Coke and Worcestershire sauce. My friend Mvuyelwa Ndungane from Mdantsane in East London swears that his uncle made a version that included both Commando Brandy (aka Ten Horses) and Coke.
Glorious glaze
All those with Chinese ancestry that I spoke to were horrified by the addition of Coke, but the fizzy drink fans told me not to knock it until I had tried it. So, I did. While I still prefer those made with rice wine to those made with Coke, the latter is relatively similar to the former in some ways. Both liquids have layered, spiced notes and both act as a meat tenderiser which then caramelises into a glorious glaze.
Perhaps it needs a different name because, while those who add Coke are not making Hong Kong chicken as it was initially envisaged, it is jolly nice. The truth is that even the worst Hong Kong chicken is better than almost any other poultry dish. There is a beautiful balance of contrasting sweet, savoury, crisp, tender tastes and textures. Given how good it is, it would be wonderful to be able to recognise and respect the person who did it first. If possible, someone should get the credit for its creation. And a statue in front of the Gqeberha city hall. Or at the Chief Dawid Stuurman International Airport.
So, who are we putting up on that plinth? There is a small food faction in East London who say that the dish was invented in that city by Chef Cecil Sing Gen at the Bamboo Inn in the 1940s, but almost everyone else argues for a Gqeberha beginning. And some sort of connection with the Ah Kun family (or the Lau Kun depending on who is doing the spelling).
Exactly which Ah Kun, and quite how they were involved, is somewhat hazy. One informant remembered: “In the late ’30s or early ’40s, when I was a boy, the Ah Kun brothers had a restaurant on Evatt Street, PE. It had ducks and chickens hanging in the window. After church, everyone from the Chinese community would go there to collect their Sunday lunch and take it home. The brothers would slaughter their own poultry during the week, and they used to put some of the offcuts into a basic soy, rice wine sweet marinade. On weekends they would fry those bits up and put a tray of tasters on the counter to keep the people happy while they waited for their orders. That was the first version of Hong Kong Chicken. At some point someone said that they should do the same thing with proper pieces of chicken, not just offcuts, and sell it. So, they did.”
Lynita Kin, the owner of the Gqeberha’s Little Swallow Restaurant & Take-Aways, told me: “In the early to mid-twentieth century, a Chinese couple, the Lau Kuns, owned a boarding house in Evatt Street, PE. Within this boarding house, they started an informal eating spot.
“Back in the day, Evatt Street was the Chinese meeting place for social activity, mahjong and the like. The boarding house was later sold to a man named Tommy, whose Chinese name was Fok Zee Lum, and he had a daughter, Sonja. She’s in Canada now. When Tommy assumed ownership of this boarding house, and the little restaurant inside, he called it The Silver Lantern. It was then that Tommy created this chicken dish and called it Hong Kong chicken because the phrase ‘Heung Gong’ means ‘fragrant port’ and that is exactly what Hong Kong chicken is – a fusion of sauces and spices that makes it a sweet spicy-smelling fragrant dish.
“When Tommy sold the boarding house and The Silver Lantern, to a man named Lau Yat Sing, he sold the recipe to the buyer, too. Lau Yat Sing continued to sell his newly acquired recipe. It became a major hit among the community and enjoyed all the fame.
“In the course of time, before construction for a freeway commenced, The Silver Lantern relocated onto a premises in Russell Road. Later, Lau Yat Sing’s older brother, Lau Yat Kou, joined him in the restaurant business and before long they relocated to Walmer Road, which later became Walmer Boulevard as it stands today.
“Then they went to new premises in Parliament Street, the then hub of night life in the city, and their patrons loyally pursued them for their signature specialty, Hong Kong chicken. When Lau Yat Sing passed away, leaving an ageing brother, Lau Yat Kou, to continue in the business, the time had come to call it a day. An era had come to a close, but their recipe lives on in the lives of the Chinese community who take pride in the fact that PE is home to Hong Kong chicken. We all have our own version of this chicken dish today and it remains a firm favourite as an anytime, anywhere meal. And we all laugh that one cannot, and will not, find Hong Kong chicken in Hong Kong!”
Perhaps, dear reader, you think that I was joking about that statue? I assure you that I am not. Hong Kong chicken is often discussed as a quaint quirk rather than the ambrosial culinary creation that it is. This is part of a broader tendency for self-appointed authenticity police foodies to be snobbish about recipes coming out of Diaspora communities. As if the meals of migrants are somehow fake and less valuable than motherland-made food. The magnificent mélange that is Hong Kong chicken conclusively proves that nothing could be further from the truth. Diaspora alimentary adaptations are not inauthentic. They are differently authentic. They are created by resilient, creative people in response to new, often challenging epicurean environments. Hong Kong chicken is a really good recipe that deserves to be recognised as more than a regional oddity – which is why establishing who did it first is important. If possible, someone should get the credit for its creation.
Every bite is infused with dynamic change and continuity. Which is why Hong Kong chicken is so deeply delicious. DM
Daily Maverick’s journalism is funded by the contributions of our Maverick Insider members. If you appreciate our work, then join our membership community. Defending Democracy is an everyday effort. Be part of it. Become a Maverick Insider.