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London’s Chinese Restaurant Scene in the 1930s (one of three posts)

Posted: December 28th, 2012 | 8 Comments »

The first of three posts over the next few days on what London’s Chinese restaurant scene was like in the 1930s and the bohemian crowd that opted for Chinese food back before the war.We start with a round up of the Chinese restaurant scene in the early thirties…

What was London’s Chinese restaurant scene like in the 1930s? Of course Chinese restaurants had been around since the late nineteenth century but how mainstream or otherwise was Chinese food by the eve of the War? Who ate at these places in the West End of London? Chinese restaurants were becoming common enough among bohemians, arty and media types to get referenced in novels of the time – see my post about Eric Ambler’s 1930s novel Cause for Alarm.

Here though is a nice round up of what the West End had to offer in terms of Chinese food – from an article entitled LONDON’S CHINESE RESTAURANTS in The Queenslander from July 21st 1932

IF we start from the centre of the West-End of London, setting out from Piccadilly Circus, we can take in all the Chinese restaurants of the West-End within half an hour’s walk (writes Townley Searle in his book, “Strange News from China”). The Chinese Restaurant in Piccadilly Circus was one, if not the first, to open in their neighbourhood. It was started in 1909 by Mr. Chang Choy, and has continued for 22 years. The premises are, of cource, the most centrally situated of any, and consist of the upper floors of 4 Glasshouse Street. Each floor is decorated in approved Chinese style, in which the Chinese lantern predominates. The food is excellent, as it is in every Chinese restaurant, and if one knows “what to order” there can be no question of disappointment. From Piccadilly Circus we go up Shaftesbury Avenue as far as Wardour Street, where we come upon restaurants on both sides of the load, that on the left being the older and more imposing. Started in 1918 as the London Maxims, when that concern failed to meet with the success enjoyed by its rival in Paris, the premises were sold and reopened as the Chinese Maxims by one of our Oriental friends, who already had a restaurant in Avenue Chinois. From here, if we drop down to the Strand, we find one of the more recently opened places, the Chop Suey, at the corner of Buckingham Street, which is presided over by Mr. Y. Fugii. This Chop Suey is different from all the others, and is probably the only one of its kind in the world. It is unique, in that it is half Chinese and half Japanese. The ground floor is the Japanese department, and here is set a small gas ring upon every table, so that he who runs, or rather sits, may, if he wishes, be his own cook. I should perhaps at once explain that either the proprietor or one of the waitresses will not only show you how to do it, but will actually cook a meal under your very nose and upon the table at which you sit if you are entirely ignorant as to the proper procedure. The fact that all the food is brought to the table in the raw state precludes any possibility of its being other than fresh and good, while a visit to Mr. Fugii’s restaurant affords the novice a very good and free lesson in Chinese and Japanese cooking. Chop-sticks are provided, either of wood (enclosed with a small tooth pick and hygienically wrapped in paper), or of ivory, and the correct way of eating is to put some rice in your bowl and help yourself with the chop sticks from the pan, carrying the food from pan to bowl and there dipping it in the rice and sauce, or whatever you have. It is not correct to fill your bowl from the main dish, and the bowl, as hereafter explained, should be taken near the mouth and the food thrown in by means of the chop sticks. Chop Suey.

RETRACING our steps and crossing Shaftesbury Avenue at Wardour Street is the first restaurant in London to be called Chop Suey. This was opened by Ley On, a film artist, who has played in pictures with Anna May Wong. The premises consist of two floors at the corner of Meard Street, with entrances in both thoroughfares. Here may be purchased every kind of Chinese food and even delicacies like shark’s fin, while bowls and other crockery, ivory chop-sticks, Chinese pencils, and Chinese gramophone records are on sale, and are exhibited in cases round the walls. The lower room has some very amusing paintings, for when Ley On opened his restaurant he invited his artist friends to roll up and help in the decorating. Strange tales told out of Burmah, Indo-China, Siam, and every corner of the Eastern world may be gathered and conjured from these walls.

Returning, we take the narrows of Meard Street, across Frith Street into Greek Street, where we come out by the Canton Restaurant, a ground floor with windows full of Chinese delicacies. Almost opposite is the Shanghai, which shares with the “Chinese” in Piccadilly the honour of having been one of the first to open on this foreign shore. The “Shanghai” is much frequented by literary types, and has been “mentioned more than once in the public prints.” Only the old archway of the Manette Street hostelry divides the Shanghai restaurant from the large provision shop recently opened under the same management. Taking the very narrow path through the old archway, and turning to the right, we are upon another Canton restaurant, occupying a large first floor in Charing Cross Road. This is the only restaurant in London that reminds us of the hundreds of similar establishments in America, where one has a choice of over 600 Chinese restaurants in New York City alone. Both the Canton restaurants, together with one in Edinburgh, are run by Mr. Wong Gee and his partner, who place a room at the disposal of the Chinese student societies. Continuing on our way, we cross the new “booksellers’ row” (this is one of the very few busy London streets lined with an avenue of trees), and enter Denmark Street, which is now almost wholly given over to Chinese and Japanese restaurants and emporia. Undoubtedly the most amusing of these places is The Nanking, presided over by Mr. Fung Saw. Mr. Fung is some thing of a politician, and to his restaurant come many of the more youthful of the budding Parliamentarians. These, together with composers and song writers, their publishers and film artists, comprise the chief of Mr. Fung’s clientele. The hall of feasting is reached by long, steep steps, which lead to an exceptionally large, light, and lofty basement. There is another and a mere prosaic entrance through a hall door on the ground floor, but somehow no one ever seems to notice it, and so we descend the more picturesque steps. Inside, the decorations are reminiscent of a Chinese junk, and the walls are decorated in vermilion and in greens and yellows, which only a Chinese artist is able to use to Oriental perfection. On the opposite side of the road are two Japanese restaurants, and just round the corner we can enter the banqueting hall of Wah Yeng, who contents himself with catering, to the exclusion of everything else. Mr. Yeng explained that he had a largo back room, which he reserved for Chinese business men, but as Chinese merchants do not so often come to London the hall at the back is usually thrown open to all. Within a stone’s threw is a new-comer, trading as The New Chop-Suey, occupying a ground floor and shop in New Compton Street.

The Queenslander July 21st 1932

Piccadilly Circus and environs…1930


8 Comments on “London’s Chinese Restaurant Scene in the 1930s (one of three posts)”

  1. 1 Dian said at 11:10 am on February 23rd, 2013:

    I most enjoyed this blog about Chinese restaurants in London in the 30s. I am researching Dietrich Bonhoeffer and was most surprised when a friend of his wrote of eating Chinese: “Lunch (Chinese) with Dietrich, at Liberty’s, and in the Central European Travel Agency, Church St., Kensington.” I was so surprised, as I didn’t think Westerner’s ate Chinese pre-WWII. I googled and was delighted to find your work. Any guesses where they might have eaten?

  2. 2 Paul French said at 11:44 am on February 23rd, 2013:

    Dian,

    Actually I think I do know which restaurant that might have been. There is a Chinese restaurant (or at least was, I haven’t been to that area for some time). I can’t remember the name but it is just opposite South Kensington tube station on one of the streets running towards Gloucester Road. It is almost on the corner. It’s been refurbished and now looks modern (at least Chinese restaurant in England 1987 modern!) but it is referred to in some memoirs of London which I also can’t remember – but mentioned often enough that I went and had lunch their one Saturday years ago. Pretty average standard London Chinese food. I’ll bet that was the one though as in the 1930s I believe it was a popular place to go for Chinese food. Next time I’m in London I’ll go photograph it.

  3. 3 Dian said at 9:51 am on February 26th, 2013:

    Thanks Paul–amazing. I’ll look forward to the photo.

  4. 4 Jane Bernal said at 7:16 pm on August 2nd, 2015:

    An obscure historical fact about the Nanking. It was where John Cornford , the young Cambridge communist & historian, killed in the Spanish Civil War, met his first serious girl-friend, Rachel ‘Ray’ Peters. Cornford was filling in a two term gap between school and University by studying at the LSE and working as a student volunteer at the Labour Research Department. Both he and Ray were members of the Young Communist League (YCL) and met through another YCLer who was also eating at the Nanking. They then lived together fro two years in London and Cambridge before they decided to part company. Ray Peters was the mother of John Cornford’s son, James Cornford. You can see a portrait of Ray and John at the National Portrait Gallery http://www.npg.org.uk/collections/search/portrait/mw08576/John-Cornford-Ray-Peters or on Peter Lofts’ website http://www.loftyimages.co.uk/photo_7949203.html#photos_id=7949203 &http://www.loftyimages.co.uk/photo_8167116.html

  5. 5 Paul French said at 3:58 pm on August 3rd, 2015:

    thank you very much for that anecdote – The Nanking certainly seems to have been a gathering place for various left wing groups – http://www.chinarhyming.com/2013/04/30/more-london-chinese-restaurant-stories-indian-goings-on-at-the-nanking-restaurant/

  6. 6 Philip Wong said at 7:03 pm on August 27th, 2015:

    Just before World War II On Ah Lee appeared to be in financial difficulties.

    My father Tai Hon Wong borrowed GBP 500.00 from a solicitor friend and entered into partnership with Lee.

    At the time my father also operated a Chinese Provision store Quong Yuen Sing at 53 Pennyfields E.14 (I was born there in 1938).

    The partnership lasted till about 1947 when we returned to China, our ancestral home being near Xiangang Town, Kaiping, Guangdong.

  7. 7 paul French said at 10:31 pm on August 28th, 2015:

    Philip – that’s amazing – do you have any photos of the store on Pennyfields? Any records at all? There are researchers here into old Chinatown in Limehouse that could make good use of them. Paul

  8. 8 Yanli said at 8:17 pm on December 8th, 2021:

    Hi Paul,

    I am so surprised to find that you have posted something on the Chinese restaurants’ history in London here. I am a fan of your books.

    You may find it interesting that the author of the article you cite here from the Queenslander seems to be Townley Searle. He published a book titled Strange news from China in 1932, which was basically a gourmet’s note on Chinese food. The book is an interesting read showing a lot of thoughts on Chinese culture by the author, though Mr Searle has never been to China himself, according to Spectator. The section that appears on the Queenslander’s article is recited from this book.


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