“Back then, people who didn’t do well in school typically became apprentices. My classmate introduced me to a job in the kitchen; I happened to love cooking, and the rest is history,” he says. With a warm demeanour and hearty laugh, Siu recounts an unforgettable night at his first job at a Cantonese restaurant over forty years ago, which unbeknownst to Siu, fell on the monthly deep-cleaning day. All of the kitchen's gigantic cooker hoods needed to be scrubbed clean, and Siu ended up working past one in the morning. “We were already considered lucky because we had two days off a month, as many workers at other restaurants didn’t even get one.”
Exhausted physically and mentally, Siu sought his mother’s advice on whether he should continue to work there – only to get a scolding in return. “That’s what being an apprentice is all about! What can you possibly learn without hard work?” he recalls her admonishing. Her wise words stuck with Siu, and since then even during the hardest of times, he always persevered.
That is not to say that Siu had never been tempted to give up, especially when many fellow apprentices switched over to work for Western restaurants. “I was so envious to find out that they had four days off every month! But my English wasn’t good at the time, so I stayed in the Chinese restaurant. At least there was food; food and clothing were very important. As the saying goes, one gets to eat when one is near the kitchen,” he jokes. Though these anecdotes happened almost half a century ago, Siu recalls them with an excitable grin as if they were just yesterday.
In 1986, after an arduous apprenticeship and many hours of sweating under excruciating conditions in the kitchen – which lacked today’s gas stoves and air-conditioned ventilation – Siu finally became a chef. He worked at a high-end Cantonese restaurant in Tsim Sha Tsui. “It was such a rare opportunity. I received a good salary, and even though it was difficult at times I never complained. I was eager to learn and work hard. Plus, my colleagues and I formed a great brotherhood, and we would go play football and swim together. Work was smooth and enjoyable.”
Among Siu’s greatest mentors is the now-retired chef Kwang from the Ramada Renaissance Hotel Hong Kong (which has been renamed Langham Hotel), with whom Siu worked shoulder to shoulder for almost twenty years. Siu remembers how stern Kwang was and how he never failed to remind him that “you will know in the future that I taught you right”. Years later, after finding success, Siu agrees with him.
“We were utterly admonished over the tiniest things, but now looking back, it was necessary. The lessons cut deep, and you would remember your mistakes for the rest of your life. I remember cutting my finger and master Kwang wasn’t sympathetic, and instead scolded me and even forbade me from going on holiday. Indeed, I was injured because I wasn’t careful enough; I learned to become extra careful. Even now, I go to great lengths to ensure the safety of my team to prevent injuries and accidents. I think because of this spirit of caring for each other, my team’s turnover rate is relatively low,” he shares.
“Cooking and living are the same – they must be done with heart. To be able to feel dedication and joy towards my work, truly enjoy the process and receive praise from my customers? I am already very happy.”
Over the past forty years, Siu has had a front-row seat to the myriad tides and turns of Hong Kong’s fast-paced dining industry. He has witnessed how, thanks to the internet, chefs are able to explore and experiment with novel techniques and recipes; working conditions for chefs have also improved. When it comes to food, Siu is especially delighted about the trend towards healthy living, with a focus on less oil and sugar as well as the incorporation of globally sourced ingredients not traditionally used in Chinese cooking.
For his own culinary approach, however, Siu insists on being faithful to tradition. He believes that exceptional cooking should not be limited only to fine dining and that the commonest of dishes can sometimes be the most difficult to do well.
Take the sweet and sour pork as an example, Siu says. What many simply know as the sweet and sour sauce features an intricate blend of onion, ginger and garlic, as well as the more old-school additions of hawthorn and plum, to give it its rousing fragrance. Another down-to-earth dish, the Wuxi fried spare ribs, puts the chef’s know-how to the test. And at Ying Jee Club, the stuffed chicken wing – what appears to be an ordinary ingredient – is a signature that requires impeccable technique to execute well. “It’s not always the high-end ingredients that can showcase the chef’s craft,” says Siu.
In spite of the ebbs and flows that come with the trade, master chef Siu has never wavered in his passion and determination to be the finest chef he can be. There is not a day that he does not think of ways to improve – an example of his admirable dedication that has driven him for four decades and beyond.
