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Canteen Culture and Lore: Lemon Tarts, the Thousand-Person Feast, and the Women Workers' Glutinous Rice Dumplings

Food safety Corroborated ~21,237 characters · 44 min read Updated

At CUHK, "where are we eating tonight?" is never a simple question — it conjures up the Medical Faculty's lemon tart, Chung Chi's no-frills "combo meals", the iced red bean drink at Benjamin Franklin Centre, the women workers' little shop that keeps its lights on late into the night, and the thousand-person communal feast in New Asia College's circular piazza. This article strings together these memories of food with a light touch, to see how a university built into a mountainside wrote its own collective memory through its canteens.


1. A Map of Signature Dishes: Every Canteen Has Its Claim to Fame

When CUHK students talk about "CUHK treasures" or "CUHK food", they rarely mean delicacies of land and sea. They mean cheap, filling, no-nonsense home cooking with a canteen personality all its own. Drawing on the School of Journalism and Communication's "A Bite of CUHK" special feature and student word-of-mouth:

Each college canteen also guards its own private specialities — S.H. Ho's mouth-watering chicken, United College's cheeseburger curry rice and minced pork rice, Wu Yee Sun's pan-fried chicken chop, CW Chu's All Day Breakfast, and the kebab and pizza at Ebeneezer's, the halal outlet. This "map of signature dishes" shifts as caterers come and go, but the conviction that "every canteen has one dish worth a special trip" is shared across generations of CUHK students.


2. Cheese Foam and the Photo Op: The "Instagram Generation" Hits the Canteen

Over the past decade or so, a new layer has quietly settled over CUHK's canteens: "photo-op culture". Students no longer eat merely to refuel — they will make a special trip for a drink that photographs well and has a silly name. According to the "A Bite of CUHK" feature, this "trendy" texture is worth a closer look:

  • United College's "Happy Corner" (inside UC Can): Specialising in cheese-foam-topped drinks, its signature names are half the fun — "Cheese Foam Panda Four Seasons Spring Tea", "Aladdin's Tea", "Uncle's Milk Tea" — at $15–$30, a United College student's afternoon delight.
  • Chung Chi Student Canteen's "brown-sugar pearl milk": Even the no-frills canteen has kept up with the times, putting brown-sugar pearl milk on the menu — an odd-couple pairing of "cheap combo meal with an on-trend drink".
  • Pommerenke Can (Paper & Coffee): Up on the second floor of Pommerenke Student Centre, this one goes for a Japanese vibe — "decorated with Japanese tatami flooring", according to the student press. Vegetable rice, slow-cooked pork knuckle and freshly ground coffee are the draws, at $30–$60; and loyalty points via a third-party app earn a year-round 10% discount — photo op and points programme in one.
  • Royal Jubilee Residence's "Be the Light": A Taiwanese drinks shop that students have voted, per the student press, "best milk foam tea in cuhk". (The same round-up also notes that it "has been suspected of wage arrears" — a single-source labour allegation covered in the contractor piece; we will not expand on it here.)

This "trendy" layer reflects a shift in how the same generation eats: canteens are no longer purely functional spaces "for shovelling food down between classes", but social stages for photographing, dating, collecting points and checking in. The cheap and filling combo meal sitting on the same menu as a photogenic cheese-foam tea is the real texture of today's CUHK canteen.


3. Late-Night Food: The Few Lights Still Burning up the Hill

CUHK is built into a hillside, with hostels far from the city centre — heading down the hill for a late-night snack is a costly expedition. So late-night food on campus has become a culture unique to this mountain town. According to public information and the freshman handbook:

  • Chung Chi Student Canteen's late-night service: The Chung Chi canteen stays open late, from 9 pm to 2 am Sunday through Friday (closed Saturdays); one-person hotpots and four-person chicken claypots are the late-night staples.
  • The Women Workers' Cooperative's "all-night lamp": According to the freshman handbook, the shop's hours run from 07:30 to 1:30 am — for students chasing deadlines and studying into the small hours, that light alone is a comfort. The student press records that the cooperative once teamed up with student volunteers after renewing its lease to run a "Special Shift", with students covering the late-night hours to extend the evening service.

A canteen open late has never just been about "having food". On a campus where missing the last shuttle means hiking up the hill on foot, a canteen light still burning is an unspoken pact between students.


4. The Thousand-Person Feast and High Table: Making "Dining Together" a Tradition

If everyday canteens are about eating on the fly, the colleges' grand communal meals elevate eating into ritual.

These grand communal meals and the everyday canteens are two sides of the same coin: the canteen answers the belly, the feast and the High Table answer belonging. The human warmth of the basin feast and the etiquette of the long table are the chapter that CUHK's college system writes into its dining tables.


5. The Women Workers' Cooperative: "Another Way of Eating" in One Small Shop

Of all the canteen stories, the women workers' little shop in the basement of Benjamin Franklin Centre is the most singular — it is not just a place selling glutinous rice dumplings and Taiwanese sausages, but an experiment in "how campus resources should be used."

According to the Hong Kong Women Workers' Association, the CUHK Women Workers' Mutual Cooperative was organised by the Association with a group of unemployed women, and was the first cooperative to develop university resources, born of a 2000 campaign by the CUHK Student Grassroots Concern Group to have the shop run by a grassroots organisation. The cooperative was formally established in March 2001, initially offering photocopying services, sharing revenue with the Student Union out of the profits after costs; the snack shop only opened in November of the same year — in other words, the glutinous rice dumplings and Taiwanese sausages were not the cooperative's starting point, but its second step after it had gained a foothold on campus. Its way of doing business could not be more different from the usual contractor's: "mutual aid at the grassroots, collective management by the women workers, joint decision-making, fair division of labour" — no boss; pricing, hours and what to sell are all decided by the members, one person one vote. According to an HK01 feature, the cooperative's members are mostly middle-aged women left unemployed by economic restructuring; "they sell twenty-odd snacks, with the 'lo mein' especially popular, at reasonable prices and generous portions; wages are paid by the hour, above the minimum wage, with annual leave".

This little shop also bridges "campus" and "society". According to the same feature, over the years the cooperative has used charity sales and other means to "stand in solidarity with the Kwun Tong cleaners, the rebar workers' strike, and the compensation claims of CUHK's outsourced painters, and has visited cooperatives in South Korea, Taiwan and mainland China". For many students, buying a glutinous rice dumpling at the women workers' shop is not just a late-night snack — it is an endorsement of "another way of eating."

Its lease renewals have never been smooth sailing — every few years it faces the hurdle of university tendering, and has come close to losing its spot on several occasions. That fuller, more dramatic storyline belongs to this module's Contractors, Outsourcing and Monopoly Disputes. In this article on canteen culture, what we remember is that light still burning late into the night, and the small kindnesses, priced from $4, handed over the counter by a few "uncles and aunties".


6. A Memory of Prices: Generations of "Cheap, Good, Great"

Running quietly through CUHK canteen culture is the thread of price. In the collective memory of students, what makes the canteen endearing is precisely that it is cheap: Med Can's meals at just over $20, the women workers' $4 snacks, United College's $18 student meal, Chung Chi's big-and-cheap combo plates — these figures shift with inflation and changing caterers, but they have built a shared expectation that "CUHK canteens should stay affordable."

Precisely because that expectation runs so deep, "price hikes", "chain-ification" and "more expensive and worse-tasting" are guaranteed to touch a nerve — which only shows that, in the CUHK psyche, the canteen has never just been "a place to eat", but part of mountain-town life, a vessel of identity and emotion. In the price of a two-choice rice plate sits generations of memory of this university.


7. An Archaeology of Canteen Buildings: From "A Meeting Place for Three Colleges" to "The Triangular Chocolate Building"

Canteens sit where they sit not by accident, but as sediment of the campus's expansion. Benjamin Franklin Centre and Chung Chi Student Canteen are two cases in point.

This "former life" of canteen buildings rarely makes the freshman handbook, yet it says something important: many of the places where CUHK people eat were never built for eating — they began as clubs, teaching blocks or halls, and were only gradually taken over by the demands of food.

8. Sitting Down to Eat Together: CUHK's Place Among the "Eight Canteens"

Zoom out beyond CUHK's campus, and canteen culture is a shared talking point across Hong Kong's eight UGC-funded universities, each constantly compared with the others. According to an informal survey of several universities' canteens on a study-abroad agency platform (a single source, a casual round-up, not an academic study), "HKUST's canteens are often praised for their sea view, CityU's AC1 has become a photo-op hotspot for its MTR-adjacent location and cheap, generous portions, while CUHK is described as a 'mountain-view canteen in pleasant surroundings'". The same piece also notes that one university's canteen is repeatedly derided as "inedible" — as for which university and whether the verdict is fair, readers should judge for themselves. We include it here merely as supporting evidence that "CUHK is not the only university obsessed with its canteens."

This comparative frame also explains why "mountain" and "sea" keep recurring in the earlier sections of this article: CUHK is built into a hillside, with canteens scattered among colleges and slopes — Med Can's lemon tart hides in the medical building's basement, Cafe Tolo's waffles look out over Tolo Harbour, Chung Chi's canteen rests against Unicom Pond. The terrain decides that "eating" and "scenery" can hardly be separated at CUHK. Compared with institutions built around a single main canteen, CUHK's dispersed canteen network is, in a sense, the college system and full-residential living extended to the dining table.


Related reading: The Mountain Town's Canteen System, Contractors, Outsourcing and Monopoly Disputes, CUHK Canteen Food Safety Incidents, Hostels, Hall Culture and College Traditions.


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