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| Tear-Gas Gelato, Foulmouthed Mooncakes and Other Foods Fit for a Revolution | Tear-Gas Gelato, Foulmouthed Mooncakes and Other Foods Fit for a Revolution |
| (32 minutes later) | |
| HONG KONG — “Who says I can’t sell an ice cream cone and add a gas mask on the side?” Chung Yiu-wa, the co-owner of Sogno Gelato, said. “I have a license to sell, and I can attach free gifts if I want. I’m not breaking any laws.” | HONG KONG — “Who says I can’t sell an ice cream cone and add a gas mask on the side?” Chung Yiu-wa, the co-owner of Sogno Gelato, said. “I have a license to sell, and I can attach free gifts if I want. I’m not breaking any laws.” |
| At first glance, Sogno Gelato, an ice-cream shop in a mall in a working-class neighborhood in the New Territories, could be mistaken for a tween girl’s dream bedroom. The walls are covered with little squares of canary yellow, robin’s egg blue and baby pink — from hundreds of Post-it notes with pro-democracy messages. There is a giant stuffed Winnie-the-Pooh, a cheeky reference to President Xi Jinping of China. Its right eye is covered with a bloodied bandage in homage to a first-aider who was partially blinded by a police projectile during a demonstration. | At first glance, Sogno Gelato, an ice-cream shop in a mall in a working-class neighborhood in the New Territories, could be mistaken for a tween girl’s dream bedroom. The walls are covered with little squares of canary yellow, robin’s egg blue and baby pink — from hundreds of Post-it notes with pro-democracy messages. There is a giant stuffed Winnie-the-Pooh, a cheeky reference to President Xi Jinping of China. Its right eye is covered with a bloodied bandage in homage to a first-aider who was partially blinded by a police projectile during a demonstration. |
| Mr. Chung, who goes by Ah Wa, and his co-owner have turned Sogno Gelato into a makeshift rear-guard supply station, counseling space and surrogate living room for Hong Kong’s democracy movement. The store gives out free ice cream to supporters. It serves late-night meals to battle-worn front liners, including home-cooked dishes dropped off by neighbors. (The menu one recent night: chestnut and chicken stew, pan-fried pork chops with onion, buttered corn.) It hosts know-your-rights workshops. It distributes donated protective gear, including gas masks and bike helmets of the sturdy kind, which many young protesters cannot afford, at least not if they still want to be able to feed themselves. | Mr. Chung, who goes by Ah Wa, and his co-owner have turned Sogno Gelato into a makeshift rear-guard supply station, counseling space and surrogate living room for Hong Kong’s democracy movement. The store gives out free ice cream to supporters. It serves late-night meals to battle-worn front liners, including home-cooked dishes dropped off by neighbors. (The menu one recent night: chestnut and chicken stew, pan-fried pork chops with onion, buttered corn.) It hosts know-your-rights workshops. It distributes donated protective gear, including gas masks and bike helmets of the sturdy kind, which many young protesters cannot afford, at least not if they still want to be able to feed themselves. |
| A few days before Christmas, Ah Wa added a few limited-time-only holiday flavors to the menu: chocolate and rum, Christmas pudding, ginger snap and “tear-gas.” He pledged to continue serving the tear-gas gelato — it’s made with black pepper — as long as the government keeps shooting gas canisters at protesters. Or as long as Sogno Gelato manages to remain open. | A few days before Christmas, Ah Wa added a few limited-time-only holiday flavors to the menu: chocolate and rum, Christmas pudding, ginger snap and “tear-gas.” He pledged to continue serving the tear-gas gelato — it’s made with black pepper — as long as the government keeps shooting gas canisters at protesters. Or as long as Sogno Gelato manages to remain open. |
| The store doesn’t take cash donations, so customers will sometimes pay for a HK$32 scoop with a HK$500 bill and say, “Keep the change.” | The store doesn’t take cash donations, so customers will sometimes pay for a HK$32 scoop with a HK$500 bill and say, “Keep the change.” |
| Sogno Gelato has no staff. “The kids run it now,” Ah Wa said. Many teenagers hang out there partly to avoid political arguments at home. One day, several of them insisted on serving me their special: “Five Big Snow Balls,” which in Cantonese sounds almost exactly like “Five Big Demands” — itself an echo of the measures protesters have been calling for, including universal suffrage and an investigation into police abuses. | Sogno Gelato has no staff. “The kids run it now,” Ah Wa said. Many teenagers hang out there partly to avoid political arguments at home. One day, several of them insisted on serving me their special: “Five Big Snow Balls,” which in Cantonese sounds almost exactly like “Five Big Demands” — itself an echo of the measures protesters have been calling for, including universal suffrage and an investigation into police abuses. |
| Many of the regulars refer to Ah Wa, 31, as “Dad” and have given him their ID numbers and birth dates: That way, if they are arrested, he can quickly hand over the necessary information to volunteer defense lawyers. | Many of the regulars refer to Ah Wa, 31, as “Dad” and have given him their ID numbers and birth dates: That way, if they are arrested, he can quickly hand over the necessary information to volunteer defense lawyers. |
| One September evening, the Sogno Gelato-regular Gary — early 20s, born on the mainland, out of work, recently kicked out by his family — was on a bus with friends, on his way to meet Ah Wa after a protest. (“I help build barricades. I don’t throw things or fight the cops.”) The police stopped the bus and searched everyone on board. Among Gary’s things, they found an anti-germ mask, work gloves and something, apparently, more incriminating still. “He has restaurant coupons!” an officer said. “He must be a front liner!” Gary was arrested. | One September evening, the Sogno Gelato-regular Gary — early 20s, born on the mainland, out of work, recently kicked out by his family — was on a bus with friends, on his way to meet Ah Wa after a protest. (“I help build barricades. I don’t throw things or fight the cops.”) The police stopped the bus and searched everyone on board. Among Gary’s things, they found an anti-germ mask, work gloves and something, apparently, more incriminating still. “He has restaurant coupons!” an officer said. “He must be a front liner!” Gary was arrested. |
| His friends called Sogno Gelato for help. | His friends called Sogno Gelato for help. |
| At 2 a.m., the police were still recording his statement. “The lawyer asked if I was hungry, and arranged for Ah Wa to bring food to the police station and hand it over to the cops,” Gary told me later, at the shop. “He brought me a Yeung Chow fried rice.” | At 2 a.m., the police were still recording his statement. “The lawyer asked if I was hungry, and arranged for Ah Wa to bring food to the police station and hand it over to the cops,” Gary told me later, at the shop. “He brought me a Yeung Chow fried rice.” |
| The lawyer tried to negotiate with the officers to let Gary eat while they continued to question him. “At that moment, I wanted to cry,” Gary said. He thought then about the woman who was representing him pro bono: “‘You’re just my volunteer lawyer; you don’t need to act like my family. I can’t ask that of you.’” | The lawyer tried to negotiate with the officers to let Gary eat while they continued to question him. “At that moment, I wanted to cry,” Gary said. He thought then about the woman who was representing him pro bono: “‘You’re just my volunteer lawyer; you don’t need to act like my family. I can’t ask that of you.’” |
| “Maybe she felt I was about to cry, so she joked with me instead, asking, ‘How’s the fried rice?’ I said, ‘It’s delicious.’” | “Maybe she felt I was about to cry, so she joked with me instead, asking, ‘How’s the fried rice?’ I said, ‘It’s delicious.’” |
| If the current protests in Hong Kong have lasted seven months despite minimal concessions from the government and the rising costs — economic, social, psychological — of all the disruption and violence, that’s partly because sympathetic citizens like Ah Wa have mobilized to organize parallel support systems for the demonstrators. Various shadow networks of caterers, lawyers, health care providers or car-poolers have emerged. There are apps that tell you which restaurants and shops are “yellow” (pro-democracy) and which are “blue” (pro-police and pro-government). | If the current protests in Hong Kong have lasted seven months despite minimal concessions from the government and the rising costs — economic, social, psychological — of all the disruption and violence, that’s partly because sympathetic citizens like Ah Wa have mobilized to organize parallel support systems for the demonstrators. Various shadow networks of caterers, lawyers, health care providers or car-poolers have emerged. There are apps that tell you which restaurants and shops are “yellow” (pro-democracy) and which are “blue” (pro-police and pro-government). |
| Protesters and their supporters may disagree over whether violent tactics on the streets will help or hurt the movement overall, or whether what they want for Hong Kong is outright independence, a greater degree of self-determination or just the proper application of the existing “one country, two systems” principle, which is supposed to guarantee the city’s semi-autonomy. But they are united by the notion that Hong Kong is distinct from mainland China, politically and culturally, that it is their home — and so its fate should be theirs to decide. This local pride, though it has run deep for a long time, became resolutely political after the Umbrella Movement in 2014. | |
| Before the city’s spectacular economic development in the 1970s, many poor Hong Kongers, including waves of refugees from the mainland, eked out a living as street vendors. But as the city’s economy soared and more and more people took white-collar jobs, government policies discouraged peddling on the street. Hawking, in turn, became a symbol of a distinct Hong Kong identity under threat, of a local underdog oppressed by an overlord government — whether colonial British or communist Chinese — that seems forever unaccountable to the people. | Before the city’s spectacular economic development in the 1970s, many poor Hong Kongers, including waves of refugees from the mainland, eked out a living as street vendors. But as the city’s economy soared and more and more people took white-collar jobs, government policies discouraged peddling on the street. Hawking, in turn, became a symbol of a distinct Hong Kong identity under threat, of a local underdog oppressed by an overlord government — whether colonial British or communist Chinese — that seems forever unaccountable to the people. |
| These tensions came to a head on Lunar New Year’s Day in 2016, when several proponents of localism — a movement to preserve the city’s unique features, especially against encroachment from Beijing — called for a gathering to support hawkers selling fishballs and other cart foods in the working-class neighborhood of Mong Kok, claiming the vendors were being harassed by the authorities. That night, there were clashes with police and arrests. Later, some participants whose public profiles continued to rise, like Edward Leung Tin-kei, were barred from running for office, and were tried and sentenced to long prison terms for those Lunar New Year clashes. “Free Hong Kong! Revolution of Our Time!,” a mantra of the current protests, is attributed to Leung. | |
| That February night in 2016, now a seminal moment in Hong Kong’s democracy movement, is known as the Fishball Revolution. | That February night in 2016, now a seminal moment in Hong Kong’s democracy movement, is known as the Fishball Revolution. |
| On July 22, a young pro-democracy activist committed suicide after his relatives kicked him out of the house. That’s when Andy Cheng, a 28-year-old working in advertising, decided to step up. “If your family doesn’t want to be your family, come to me. I’ll be your family” — Andy thought when he sent out an open invitation for dinner that night on Facebook and Telegram. He made coconut chicken soup, scrambled eggs with tomatoes, stir-fried greens and steamed minced pork — as typical a Hong Kong home meal as it gets. Two people showed up. | On July 22, a young pro-democracy activist committed suicide after his relatives kicked him out of the house. That’s when Andy Cheng, a 28-year-old working in advertising, decided to step up. “If your family doesn’t want to be your family, come to me. I’ll be your family” — Andy thought when he sent out an open invitation for dinner that night on Facebook and Telegram. He made coconut chicken soup, scrambled eggs with tomatoes, stir-fried greens and steamed minced pork — as typical a Hong Kong home meal as it gets. Two people showed up. |
| By August, he said, he was serving 30 to 40 dinners daily and several people were crashing overnight on the floor of his work space. Andy started calling the office — a hip loft with gunmetal slate floors and shelves filled with collectible toys — a “safe house.” Soups are the taste of home, according to both Andy’s mother and many Hong Kong soap operas, and he makes sure to serve one, slow-cooked, at every meal. | By August, he said, he was serving 30 to 40 dinners daily and several people were crashing overnight on the floor of his work space. Andy started calling the office — a hip loft with gunmetal slate floors and shelves filled with collectible toys — a “safe house.” Soups are the taste of home, according to both Andy’s mother and many Hong Kong soap operas, and he makes sure to serve one, slow-cooked, at every meal. |
| One evening in early October, Andy, wearing Le Corbusier glasses and harem pants, was hosting a hot-pot party. Shoes were piled up by the front door. Dozens of plates lined the large table: thin slices of marbled beef rolled up like cigars, julienne pork collar, enoki mushrooms, Chinese lettuce, dumplings filled with pork and pea pods, slivered grass carp and crispy fried fish skin. | |
| A dozen of us stood close to the table, the better to reach the pot of bubbling broth in the middle; hot pot may be Chinese cuisine’s most communal dish. I asked a teenage girl what she preferred. The dumplings, she said — but only their skins. “When I eat with my dad,” she added, “he eats the fillings for me.” | |
| When I saw her again the following week, her parents had kicked her out, suspecting her of participating in the protests. Her father is a police officer, and the family lives in police housing. | |
| I call her Little Princess at her friend’s suggestion, after the nickname of a character in a love story she wrote in 2018. At that time, Little Princess, now 17, had never been to a protest. She didn’t join any until last June, when, after the government suspended but did not withdraw the controversial extradition bill that set off last year’s crisis, an activist fell to his death from a scaffolding. | I call her Little Princess at her friend’s suggestion, after the nickname of a character in a love story she wrote in 2018. At that time, Little Princess, now 17, had never been to a protest. She didn’t join any until last June, when, after the government suspended but did not withdraw the controversial extradition bill that set off last year’s crisis, an activist fell to his death from a scaffolding. |
| The next afternoon, Little Princess was among the two million Hong Kongers who marched against the bill and police violence. On July 1, she was one of several hundred protesters who broke into and briefly occupied the Legislative Council. | The next afternoon, Little Princess was among the two million Hong Kongers who marched against the bill and police violence. On July 1, she was one of several hundred protesters who broke into and briefly occupied the Legislative Council. |
| Little Princess said her favorite books are “1984” and “Animal Farm.” Her favorite classes are Chinese literature and history — especially Russian history (“because Gorbachev reformed a very closed society”) and French history (“because of all the revolutions”). | Little Princess said her favorite books are “1984” and “Animal Farm.” Her favorite classes are Chinese literature and history — especially Russian history (“because Gorbachev reformed a very closed society”) and French history (“because of all the revolutions”). |
| By September, Little Princess and two other 17-year-old girls were conducting online research on how to make petrol bombs. They bought the materials, put them together and went to a quarry for tests and to practice their throwing. They were preparing for Oct. 1, the 70th anniversary of the founding of the People’s Republic of China, a day that some protesters were announcing would mark “the end game” against the authorities. | |
| “The night before, I got scared,” Little Princess told me. One of the girls in her team WhatsApped them: “Let’s write wills.” Little Princess said she apologized to her parents in her note: “I told them this is our future, not theirs. I hoped they wouldn’t scold me for doing something for my own future.” The three also made a pledge: If they survived the next day, they’d go for a special, amazing meal together. Maybe Japanese buffet or hot pot. | “The night before, I got scared,” Little Princess told me. One of the girls in her team WhatsApped them: “Let’s write wills.” Little Princess said she apologized to her parents in her note: “I told them this is our future, not theirs. I hoped they wouldn’t scold me for doing something for my own future.” The three also made a pledge: If they survived the next day, they’d go for a special, amazing meal together. Maybe Japanese buffet or hot pot. |
| One dessert place invites front liners who are low on cash to “come be food testers.” A steamed-rice crepe shop offers a free meal to anyone who hands in a yellow Post-it that says, “I love Hong Kong”; at one burger joint, you’re comped a meal if you whisper to a staffer: “Hong Kong, ga yau!” — “add oil,” a term of encouragement among protesters. Employees of an e-commerce platform prepay for restaurant meals and groceries, then give out the order numbers to demonstrators so they can claim the food. Sister Cat, a blue-haired grandmother, became famous during the Umbrella Movement for delivering free meals to occupation sites from her traditional diner. Now her Facebook page features a standing invitation for anyone to come share a meal, on the house, for her birthday — every day. | One dessert place invites front liners who are low on cash to “come be food testers.” A steamed-rice crepe shop offers a free meal to anyone who hands in a yellow Post-it that says, “I love Hong Kong”; at one burger joint, you’re comped a meal if you whisper to a staffer: “Hong Kong, ga yau!” — “add oil,” a term of encouragement among protesters. Employees of an e-commerce platform prepay for restaurant meals and groceries, then give out the order numbers to demonstrators so they can claim the food. Sister Cat, a blue-haired grandmother, became famous during the Umbrella Movement for delivering free meals to occupation sites from her traditional diner. Now her Facebook page features a standing invitation for anyone to come share a meal, on the house, for her birthday — every day. |
| Mooncakes, round pastries often filled with a pristine, salted egg yolk, can be eaten at any time, but they’re most common around Mid-Autumn Festival, an annual harvest ritual held during a full moon. Legend has it that on the occasion of the holiday in 1368, Han Chinese rebels wanting to overthrow Mongol oppressors slipped into the cakes pieces of paper calling for a revolt. The people got the message, rose up and overthrew the Mongol Yuan dynasty. Today, Kristina Sze, the owner of Wah Yee Tang Bakery, doesn’t bother hiding her messages inside the cakes; she stamps them on top. | Mooncakes, round pastries often filled with a pristine, salted egg yolk, can be eaten at any time, but they’re most common around Mid-Autumn Festival, an annual harvest ritual held during a full moon. Legend has it that on the occasion of the holiday in 1368, Han Chinese rebels wanting to overthrow Mongol oppressors slipped into the cakes pieces of paper calling for a revolt. The people got the message, rose up and overthrew the Mongol Yuan dynasty. Today, Kristina Sze, the owner of Wah Yee Tang Bakery, doesn’t bother hiding her messages inside the cakes; she stamps them on top. |
| “We’re in it Together.” “Add Oil.” One day in July, upon finding out that Ms. Sze couldn’t keep up with orders in the lead-up to the holiday, I volunteered to help her out. She picked up a quarter of a bright-orange salted duck-egg yolk, stuffed it inside some lotus-seed paste, wrapped the paste with a pastry skin and handed the ball to me. I rolled it for no more than two seconds, as instructed, and, also as instructed, placed it inside a mold imprinted with an obscenity and the image of a cat raising a middle finger. | “We’re in it Together.” “Add Oil.” One day in July, upon finding out that Ms. Sze couldn’t keep up with orders in the lead-up to the holiday, I volunteered to help her out. She picked up a quarter of a bright-orange salted duck-egg yolk, stuffed it inside some lotus-seed paste, wrapped the paste with a pastry skin and handed the ball to me. I rolled it for no more than two seconds, as instructed, and, also as instructed, placed it inside a mold imprinted with an obscenity and the image of a cat raising a middle finger. |
| When, at the end of the day, the accordion metal gate of Ms. Sze’s shop is drawn shut, it reveals a hand-painted mural that could pass for a Hong Kong political philosophy: “Uphold Human Rights and Eat Good Food.” | When, at the end of the day, the accordion metal gate of Ms. Sze’s shop is drawn shut, it reveals a hand-painted mural that could pass for a Hong Kong political philosophy: “Uphold Human Rights and Eat Good Food.” |
| By 8 p.m., hundreds of us, some with Santa hats or reindeer antlers, lined up on the tiny street outside Kwong Wing Restaurant, in Tsim Sha Tsui, for Christmas dinner. Riot police stood guard 100 feet away. Earlier, the police had called the restaurant to warn that the celebration could be considered an “illegal assembly” — the implication being that we could all be arrested. | By 8 p.m., hundreds of us, some with Santa hats or reindeer antlers, lined up on the tiny street outside Kwong Wing Restaurant, in Tsim Sha Tsui, for Christmas dinner. Riot police stood guard 100 feet away. Earlier, the police had called the restaurant to warn that the celebration could be considered an “illegal assembly” — the implication being that we could all be arrested. |
| A young woman in a white lacy blouse waited an hour and a half before she could eat, standing on the sidewalk, cold chicken wings and spaghetti from a small paper plate. “Sure, there’s better-tasting food out there,” she told me. “But this is the best Christmas feast I’ve ever had.” | A young woman in a white lacy blouse waited an hour and a half before she could eat, standing on the sidewalk, cold chicken wings and spaghetti from a small paper plate. “Sure, there’s better-tasting food out there,” she told me. “But this is the best Christmas feast I’ve ever had.” |
| Kitchen Guy, an unemployed chef, had recently become a folk hero after sneaking onto the campus of Polytechnic University during a police siege to cook for protesters trapped inside. Kwong Wing Restaurant offered him a job. No thanks, he said, but I’d really like to help cook a free Christmas dinner for our comrades. Kwong Wing agreed, and a dozen other restaurants volunteered to co-sponsor the event. Then on Christmas Eve, news broke that Kitchen Guy had been arrested at a protest. | Kitchen Guy, an unemployed chef, had recently become a folk hero after sneaking onto the campus of Polytechnic University during a police siege to cook for protesters trapped inside. Kwong Wing Restaurant offered him a job. No thanks, he said, but I’d really like to help cook a free Christmas dinner for our comrades. Kwong Wing agreed, and a dozen other restaurants volunteered to co-sponsor the event. Then on Christmas Eve, news broke that Kitchen Guy had been arrested at a protest. |
| On Christmas night, he was still in detention, but the dinner went ahead anyway. The food was free. Most people left hefty tips to contribute to Kitchen Guy’s legal defense. | On Christmas night, he was still in detention, but the dinner went ahead anyway. The food was free. Most people left hefty tips to contribute to Kitchen Guy’s legal defense. |
| “Comrades from everywhere are bringing more food to the dinner,” someone posted on Facebook during the evening. “The more we eat, the more food there is! The more you arrest, the more people will come out to cook for our comrades!” | “Comrades from everywhere are bringing more food to the dinner,” someone posted on Facebook during the evening. “The more we eat, the more food there is! The more you arrest, the more people will come out to cook for our comrades!” |
| One man supports the protesters. A restaurant supports him. Other restaurants support the restaurant. Protesters support all of them. Good food or bad food, the Hong Kong democracy movement feeds on solidarity, and solidarity, it seems, grows exponentially. | One man supports the protesters. A restaurant supports him. Other restaurants support the restaurant. Protesters support all of them. Good food or bad food, the Hong Kong democracy movement feeds on solidarity, and solidarity, it seems, grows exponentially. |
| Laurie Wen, an activist, is writing a book about Hong Kong’s democracy movement. | Laurie Wen, an activist, is writing a book about Hong Kong’s democracy movement. |
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