Not so solo: Dining in Hong Kong

My main goal in Hong Kong was quite simple: eat. I’ve always been captivated by the city’s culinary scene. And after years of anticipation, I finally got to experience it myself.

Unfortunately, my trip had a rocky start. Credit card troubles led to an additional hour at the airport. I had a full workout dragging my suitcase around the airport in search of the right bus. By the time I reached the center of Tsim Sha Tsui, I was on the verge of a breakdown. I needed something to soothe my nerves and fast. To me, the answer was obvious: food.

Hong Kong is one of the most densely populated cities in the world. People are always rushing from one place to another. There’s not much slowing down the city so no one’s waiting for a meal. So, when a restaurant is packed and the line outside is long, customers will often get seated with strangers for their meal.

This was quite shocking at first. The thought of eating with a bunch of strangers was a completely foreign idea. But communal dining and camaraderie is deeply rooted in Chinese and Cantonese culture. Many who practice the tradition believe it builds community bonds. You can even often identify where someone is from based on their communal dining etiquette. And while I did not share food, gathering with others to enjoy delicacies offered a deeper connection with the culture and those around me.

Yat Lok is a Michelin-star eatery praised for its succulent roast goose and barbecued meat. There was a flurry of activity when I arrived: people dining and chefs busily at work, chopping and dicing. Food was flowing and a line of about 30 people cascaded out the door. Back in the U.S., most would have turned around and left. But here, the line moved fast, and I could only thank the restaurant’s shared-table atmosphere for that.

Before I knew it, I was at the front and able to steal a peek at what was in store. I was actually seated before the couple in front of me (In Hong Kong, it’s often easier to squeeze one extra person at a table than a group). I was seated with a couple and another solo diner. We all looked through the menu in our own little bubbles, but when the food arrived that isolated atmosphere shifted. Three plates of roast goose landed on the table, and like a team of synchronized swimmers, we dove in. With just one bite, I understood why Yat Lok has held a Michelin star for years.

My next communal dining experience was at Kam Wah, where classic Hong Kong bakery meets cha chaan teng. Cha chaan tengs are local diners that blend Hong Kong cuisine with Western influences, where locals often stop in for a quick breakfast or lunch. At Kam Wah, the restaurant was bustling inside and out, but I was seated immediately at a table with two tourists from Japan.

We ended up ordering similar things: Hong Kong-style French toast and warm pineapple buns. When the food arrived, we were all slightly lost but curious, staring into a container of thick, golden substance. It had the flavor of syrup but the thick consistency of honey. Despite the language barrier, we communicated just fine, sharing a quick look of confusion followed by laughter.

My solo dining adventure ended with a comforting bowl of congee, a savory rice porridge, at Mui Kee, a family-run restaurant nestled in the Fa Yuen Street Market. Mui Kee has been serving the community for over 40 years and is known for its congee, a recipe passed down over three generations. While at Mui Kee, I was joined for breakfast by an elderly couple and an older gentleman who was a fellow solo diner. The couple and man chatted in Cantonese like old friends. Watching them converse, I was reminded of my parents, adding a welcomed layer of warmth to the cozy bowl of congee.

I am no stranger to enjoying a meal in solitude while people-watching. But the thing about Hong Kong is that you’re never really dining alone. It’s an entirely unique eating experience where you often find yourself dining amid strangers, and part of what helps any solo traveler truly immerse themself in the city’s culture and customs. Watching locals and other tourists from a distance is one thing. Sharing space with them for something as potentially intimate as a meal is another. I felt like a thread beginning to weave through the fabric of Hong Kong’s dining culture.