Words by Aude Camus
One of the things I love most about living in Hong Kong is how the city balances shiny skyscrapers with neighbourhood shops that feel frozen in time. I’m talking about those tiny, family-run places that have been around for decades — the kind where nothing fancy is needed because everyone already knows they’re the best at what they do.
I’m no expert in local heritage (far from it), but I’ve picked up a handful of spots that I love to return to whenever I crave a bit of old-school Hong Kong charm. These are also the places where I’ll happily stock up on souvenirs for friends and family abroad, because what better gift than something that tells a story of the city?
Here are five shops I keep going back to — whether it’s for tofu pudding, bamboo steamers, or a pineapple bun that tastes like pure happiness.
One of the things I love most about living in Hong Kong is how the city balances shiny skyscrapers with neighbourhood shops that feel frozen in time. I’m talking about those tiny, family-run places that have been around for decades — the kind where nothing fancy is needed because everyone already knows they’re the best at what they do.
I’m no expert in local heritage (far from it), but I’ve picked up a handful of spots that I love to return to whenever I crave a bit of old-school Hong Kong charm. These are also the places where I’ll happily stock up on souvenirs for friends and family abroad, because what better gift than something that tells a story of the city?
Here are five shops I keep going back to — whether it’s for tofu pudding, bamboo steamers, or a pineapple bun that tastes like pure happiness.
Kwan Hing Kee, Sai Ying Pun – For Tofu Pudding (or anything soy really)

If you’re wandering around Sai Ying Pun and suddenly spot a little shop with metal trays full of tofu pudding (tofu fa) sitting on ice, that’s Kwan Hing Kee. This family-run soy shop has been around for decades, quietly serving what might just be the creamiest tofu pudding in town. It’s so silky it almost slides off your spoon, with a subtle sweetness that makes it refreshing rather than heavy.
I’ve tried tofu fa elsewhere, but there’s something about Kwan Hing Kee’s version that keeps me coming back (well, also because it’s so close to home). It’s not dressed up or reinvented — it’s simply perfect in its own humble way. On hot days, I’ll grab a takeaway bowl and eat it while walking down Des Voeux Road; on cooler afternoons, I might linger a little longer and watch the neighbourhood buzz.
For visitors, a stop here is an easy way to taste something truly local without feeling intimidated. For me, it’s also a reminder of Hong Kong’s everyday food culture — the kind of tradition that doesn’t scream for attention, but quietly earns it.
65 Third Street, Sai Ying Pun
Yu Kwen Yick, Sai Ying Pun – For Legendary Chilli Sauce
I’ve tried tofu fa elsewhere, but there’s something about Kwan Hing Kee’s version that keeps me coming back (well, also because it’s so close to home). It’s not dressed up or reinvented — it’s simply perfect in its own humble way. On hot days, I’ll grab a takeaway bowl and eat it while walking down Des Voeux Road; on cooler afternoons, I might linger a little longer and watch the neighbourhood buzz.
For visitors, a stop here is an easy way to taste something truly local without feeling intimidated. For me, it’s also a reminder of Hong Kong’s everyday food culture — the kind of tradition that doesn’t scream for attention, but quietly earns it.
65 Third Street, Sai Ying Pun
Yu Kwen Yick, Sai Ying Pun – For Legendary Chilli Sauce

Every Hong Kong family seems to have their chilli sauce of choice, and for many, it’s Yu Kwen Yick. This shop is practically an institution — around since 1922 — and its iconic red-capped bottles have found their way into countless local kitchens (and mine, too).
The sauce is thick, fiery, and aromatic — not just heat for heat’s sake, but the kind of spice that deepens flavours. Now I always keep a bottle at home, and it often ends up as a souvenir in my suitcase for friends who like a good kick. Plus, stepping inside the Sai Ying Pun shop feels like a small time warp.
66 Third Street, Sai Ying Pun
Tuck Chong Sum Kee Bamboo Steamer Company – For Steamers
The sauce is thick, fiery, and aromatic — not just heat for heat’s sake, but the kind of spice that deepens flavours. Now I always keep a bottle at home, and it often ends up as a souvenir in my suitcase for friends who like a good kick. Plus, stepping inside the Sai Ying Pun shop feels like a small time warp.
66 Third Street, Sai Ying Pun
Tuck Chong Sum Kee Bamboo Steamer Company – For Steamers

You might not think you need a bamboo steamer until you step inside this little shop in Sai Ying Pun — and then you’ll leave wondering how you ever lived without one. Tuck Chong Sum Kee has been handcrafting steamers since 1958, and the family’s fifth generation is still keeping the craft alive. Each basket is made the traditional way, from thin strips of bamboo carefully bound together.
Of course, steamers are brilliant for cooking dim sum at home, but I’ve also found a second use: gift packaging. Instead of wrapping paper, I’ll put together a little “Hong Kong hamper” inside one of their steamers — maybe a candle, a jar of chilli sauce, or some local snacks. It’s thoughtful, eco-friendly, and honestly looks so chic.
Walking into the workshop, with its wood shavings, tools, and piles of bamboo, is an experience in itself. It feels worlds away from Central’s gloss, and yet it’s just a short tram ride. That mix of tradition and city life is what makes Hong Kong so special, and places like Tuck Chong Sum Kee are exactly the kind of heritage I hope sticks around for many more generations.
12 Western Street, Sai Ying Pun
55 Sai Street, Sheung Wan – For Fresh Juices
Of course, steamers are brilliant for cooking dim sum at home, but I’ve also found a second use: gift packaging. Instead of wrapping paper, I’ll put together a little “Hong Kong hamper” inside one of their steamers — maybe a candle, a jar of chilli sauce, or some local snacks. It’s thoughtful, eco-friendly, and honestly looks so chic.
Walking into the workshop, with its wood shavings, tools, and piles of bamboo, is an experience in itself. It feels worlds away from Central’s gloss, and yet it’s just a short tram ride. That mix of tradition and city life is what makes Hong Kong so special, and places like Tuck Chong Sum Kee are exactly the kind of heritage I hope sticks around for many more generations.
12 Western Street, Sai Ying Pun
55 Sai Street, Sheung Wan – For Fresh Juices

This one’s a bit of a hidden gem (shot-out to @yukimaryrosel for sharing it on her Instagram). At first glance, 55 Sai Street looks like any other corner shop, but ask around and you’ll learn a delicious secret: some of Hong Kong’s top five-star hotels source their fresh juices from here.

For HKD 70-80, you can walk out with two litres of freshly squeezed orange, apple, or grapefruit juice; lemon is HKD 100, and worth every cent if you like it sharp and tangy. My personal favourite, though, is the mango juice. It’s so rich and smooth it feels more like a dessert than a drink — my kid is just as obsessed as I am. They also do kiwi, papaya, carrot, and seasonal mixes, so there’s always something new to try.
55 Sai Street, Sheung Wan
Cheung Hing Coffee, Happy Valley – For Pineapple Buns
55 Sai Street, Sheung Wan
Cheung Hing Coffee, Happy Valley – For Pineapple Buns

If Hong Kong had a comfort food mascot, it would be the pineapple bun. And in Happy Valley, Cheung Hing Coffee is where I go when the craving hits. This cha chaan teng has been around since the 1950s, serving no-frills local favourites, but it’s their pineapple buns that have earned cult status.
Crisp on top, fluffy inside, and always served warm, these buns are perfection on their own — though I’ll admit I usually order mine with a thick slab of butter (the infamous “bo lo yau”). Paired with a hot milk tea, it’s one of those small Hong Kong rituals that makes you pause and smile.
Crisp on top, fluffy inside, and always served warm, these buns are perfection on their own — though I’ll admit I usually order mine with a thick slab of butter (the infamous “bo lo yau”). Paired with a hot milk tea, it’s one of those small Hong Kong rituals that makes you pause and smile.

Cheung Hing still has that old-school cha chaan teng vibe: tiled walls, buzzing chatter, and waiters who move with impressive speed. It’s not fancy, but that’s exactly the point. Sitting there with a bun in hand, you’re part of a tradition that countless locals have enjoyed for decades.
And if you’re looking for a foodie souvenir? Take a friend here instead of just buying them a snack — it’s the kind of experience you can’t pack in a suitcase.
7-9 Yik Yam Street, Happy Valley
And if you’re looking for a foodie souvenir? Take a friend here instead of just buying them a snack — it’s the kind of experience you can’t pack in a suitcase.
7-9 Yik Yam Street, Happy Valley