“This is our parents’ legacy”: How a family bond is keeping Toronto’s first Hakka restaurant alive

In Mandarin, there’s a phrase that captures the spirit of teamwork: 双手共击 (shuāng shǒu gòng jī), meaning “it takes two hands to clap.” This saying is the heartbeat of Yueh Tung, Toronto’s first Hakka restaurant, opened by husband-and-wife team Michael Liu and Mei Wang in 1986. As Yueh Tung prepares to celebrate its 38th anniversary amid rising costs and slow post-pandemic profits, the phrase is a testament to the family bond that continues to sustain the restaurant.

Now, Michael and Mei are handing over the keys to the next generation. Despite the couple’s hopes that their five children wouldn’t end up in the restaurant business—they’d have preferred for their kids to be doctors or lawyers—the couple are pleased that two of their daughters, Joanna and Jeanette, will be keeping the woks hot. We sat down with the Lius to talk about how their daughters jumped in when the business was on the ropes, determined to keep the restaurant’s legacy alive. Michael and Mei also told us about their bold move from India to a then-very-homogeneous Toronto in 1981, becoming the Blue Jays’ go-to postgame hangout and passing the torch to the next generation.

Mei: We never planned to open a restaurant. When Michael and I moved here from what was then Calcutta, he didn’t even know how to cook! He worked on the assembly line at the Bombardier factory, and I did clerical work for a hospital. But, one day in 1986, during a family outing at a Chinese seafood restaurant, the owner, who was a complete stranger, took an interest in me and said, “I want to sell my restaurant to you.” Almost 40 years later, I still don’t know why he had such immediate faith in me.

Despite having no prior experience, we decided to bid on the restaurant. Michael had always disliked working for other people, and he wanted to be his own boss. Our offer was the lowest, but the owner still chose us; he believed in our potential. With his promise to stay and teach us how to run Yueh Tung, we borrowed $50,000 from the bank and took on the challenge. I was eight months pregnant at the time, with two kids under ten, so to say I was nervous would be an understatement. We had to succeed—there was no other option.

Jeanette: At first, the menu offered only Cantonese food. Things were slow, so to drum up business, my parents started selling lobster super cheap. Then they added chili chicken to the menu, which stole the show and quickly became one of our signature dishes.

Joanna: That was the first Hakka dish on the menu. Back in Calcutta, it was served bone-in, but the downtown business crowd was in a rush and didn’t want to pick at bones. So Dad made it boneless. He’d stand out front, offering free samples to entice people inside. It became a hit with downtown office workers and even the local police.

Jeanette: Encouraged by the positive reaction—and because my parents missed the taste of their hometown food, which wasn’t available in Toronto—they kept adding Hakka dishes to the menu.

Joanna: Dad basically lived at the restaurant, spending at least 12 hours there every day. Sometimes, he’d even sleep upstairs instead of coming home. A perfectionist, he always made sure that everything was meticulously prepared for the next day’s lunch rush. His dedication was incredible: on Christmas, after we’d open presents, he’d go right back to Yueh Tung. His world revolved around the restaurant.

Jeanette: Mom and Dad were like two separate silos. He helmed the kitchen, and she took care of everything else, like paying bills and managing staff. They did it all while taking care of five kids, making sure we all had hot lunches, driving us around. I now have a kid of my own, and I really don’t know how they did it.

Mei: My two oldest children—Emy and Tracy—helped out in the early days, washing dishes and taking out the trash. By the mid-’90s, when Joanna, Jeanette and Corey, my youngest, were old enough to help, business was good. We didn’t rely on the kids to pitch in as much.

Jeanette: We grew up at the restaurant—playing tag during lunch rushes, napping on the chairs. Some of my fondest memories are from 1992 and 1993, when Toronto won the World Series. The Blue Jays players would all come here after games. Roberto Alomar and Roger Cedeño basically babysat us.

Joanna: Throughout high school, we thought we were working alongside our parents. We helped with hosting duties and some front-of-house tasks like bringing customers their bills and making change. Now, I realize we weren’t doing much—if any—real work. Maybe if we had been doing real work back then, it would’ve deterred us from joining and eventually taking over the family business.

Mei: I never wanted my kids to take over the restaurant. That was never my dream for them. I always hoped they would find their own paths—as doctors or lawyers, preferably. Running a restaurant is hard work, with long hours and constant stress. Michael and I did it because we had to provide for our family, but I wanted my children to have easier lives.

Joanna: In 2010, Dad had a heart attack, and everything started falling apart. Without him, the quality of our food wasn’t the same. I had just finished university and didn’t know what to do next, so I decided to step in and helm the kitchen while Dad recovered. The cooks weren’t thrilled with me; I came in trying to change everything with little kitchen know-how. It was a pressure-cooker situation: the staff had to take orders from me, but I still had a lot to learn from them.

Jeanette: Didn’t Dad throw you out of the kitchen once he was feeling better?

Joanna: Yes, he called me entitled and physically pushed me out. That’s when I decided to go to culinary school, and in 2012, I got my culinary diploma from George Brown. Around that time, Dad had a stroke and was completely immobilized, so I had to step in again. This time, I knew more about managing a kitchen. But my new-school methods—recipes, standardization, measurements—were a big adjustment for our staff, who were used to their old-school way of cooking.

Jeanette: It was a big adjustment period for everyone. And as if all the big changes weren’t stressful enough already, in 2014, I came home and took over the front of house.

Joanna: After a year in Medicine Hat as a reporter, Jeanette moved back home, and we decided to partner up. She believed she could boost business while I managed the kitchen. I was hesitant at first because I didn’t think she understood how hard running a restaurant is—it’s not just social media, numbers and PR. I was struggling to fill the huge gap Dad left when he got sick. He did the work of four people, and I wasn’t equipped to lead. Jeanette and Mom didn’t realize that the kitchen is a different beast from the front of house, and I was close to losing Dad’s entire team. Our loyal chefs were retiring, and the new cooks knew I lacked experience. They were also traditional Chinese men unaccustomed to working with women. So when Jeanette said our sales should be better and accused me of not caring about making money, I was furious.

Jeanette: To be fair, it’s not that I didn’t care about the kitchen—I did. But sales were dwindling, so I focused on bringing more people in. We needed to make quick changes to stay afloat, like marketing, storytelling and having a strong media presence. And it worked. Joanna and I had our most successful year.

Jeanette: It was a stressful time. We’d sometimes have full-blown fights and call each other all sorts of names, only to plaster on fake smiles the second a guest walked by.

Mei: It takes two hands to clap. My girls needed to work together.

Joanna: In time, the kitchen adapted to my new protocols, and Jeanette and I learned to work together. We figured out that operating in two separate silos, like our parents had, just wasn’t working.

Jeanette: Right before the pandemic shut us down, we were hitting our stride. The restaurant was busy, the food quality was excellent and Dad—who had significantly regained his mobility—was back at the restaurant, supervising the kitchen and chatting with regulars. Joanna and I had finally found a great balance. Things were looking up.

Joanna: The past four years have been dark, though. Figuring out online orders and deliveries during the pandemic was a steep learning curve. The stress of keeping the business afloat, ensuring staff safety and handling supply chain issues took a toll. Just as we were finding our footing again, in 2023, Dad had another stroke. Business still hasn’t bounced back because downtown offices remain empty.

Jeanette: Our sales are about a third of what they used to be, and costs keep rising. Our rent just went up by $10,000. But we’re hopeful that things will pick up.

Joanna: Because of Dad’s mobility issues and aphasia, he hasn’t been able to come to the restaurant much since his most recent stroke. It’s really affected his quality of life.

Jeanette: Still, Dad is happy we’re keeping this going. Despite joking about not wanting us to do this and all the hard work involved, he loves coming to the restaurant. Even after his health issues, this is where he’s happiest. He told me recently that he doesn’t want us to take him anywhere else. If we lost Yueh Tung, he’d be missing a part of himself.

Joanna: Mom asked me the other day if, after she’s officially retired, she can still work Saturday dinners. She says it’s boring to fully retire and not see her customers and staff.

Jeanette: Some people may think we’re entitled because our parents are gifting us a restaurant, but our vision has always been to keep this business going and honour what our parents built. We know it’s a huge gesture of love, and we don’t want to mess it up. If we can grow the business, we’ll be able to take care of our entire team, our families and our parents.

Joanna: As Mom says, it takes two hands to clap, and I’m so thankful I have my sister to rely on. Working with family can be tough, but I know we’ll always have each other’s backs. Restaurant life is hard, but when you have a purpose, it’s worth fighting for.

Jeanette: Yueh Tung is our parents’ legacy. They built something special, introducing our culture to Toronto’s food scene. We take pride in carrying that heritage and hope to make our parents proud, because they’ve made us so proud. And who knows—maybe if our kids decide to take the reins one day, they can carry the business further than any of us ever imagined.