Cheng Yu-hung

HK Magazine: Oh come on, $68 for a milk tea? You gotta be kidding.
Cheng Yu-hung: You’re not just paying for the milk tea, you’re paying for the experience. I make the tea fresh in front of each and every diner. And it’s not like your ordinary cha chaan teng—I incorporate a bit of the Japanese tea ceremony into the serving process. You use a bowl, not a cup—this helps open up the fragrance. I learned from my father who sold milk tea from a trolley in the 60s. He didn’t make it by the pot, but cup by cup. That’s why only my tea has the truly nostalgic flavor.

HK: What kind of response do you get?
CY: Almost everyone says it’s worth it. It’s not just the tea, I also teach them a lesson about how to appreciate it. For example, the first sip you need to swirl it a bit before you swallow. This distributes the tannins evenly around the mouth. The aftertaste of my milk tea can linger for three hours.

HK: Your shop is in Sham Tseng. Who bothers to travel that far for a cup of tea?
CY: I have plenty of regulars. A lot of my clients are celebrities or Westerners—in fact, a lot of them say they can’t believe they had the best coffee or milk tea of their life in this random store in a village in the middle of nowhere. One French customer dubbed me a “coffee artiste,” a Dutch gentleman simply called me “Coffe Superman.” Since the competition, I’ve been seeing more business. Many customers come out of curiosity to find out why my milk tea is worth $68. But actually I’m even better at making coffee.

HK: Despite all your self-proclaimed super-skills, you placed third in the “Best Milk Tea” competition—does this upset you?
CY: No, not at all. Some press coverage said I was upset, but actually the judge can’t really taste the difference in three sips. In fact, I’ve got more attention because I lost.

HK: So why do you serve your milk tea in a grocery store instead of a proper café?
CY: I brew out of my passion, not because I’m chasing a buck. This makes a huge difference. You know, this was once a cha chaan teng my father opened after saving up for his whole life. But when he passed it on to me, I was so arrogant I thought I could run both a restaurant and another business, but I failed misreably and soon I was broke. Afterwards, I re-opened a grocery store selling fruit and vintage toy cars. The cars accrue value the older they get.

HK: What do you think of the Hong Kong lifestyle?
CY: It’s far too rushed. Many people live like robots and just keep working without having any fun. That’s why I have a policy—I never do take-away because if you come here, you must sit down and enjoy yourself. I actually only started selling my tea and coffee last year. But if you want to come, you had better make a reservation—I only serve one group of customers at a time and no walk-ins unless my customers consent to it.