Crying in Wing Yip
Writers and cooks share memories of their favourite Asian shops and supermarkets across the UK. Introduction by Angela Hui.
Welcome to the Vittles Chinatowns Project! In Crying in Wing Yip, we have asked eight of our favourite chefs, restaurateurs and writers to reflect on the significance of Asian supermarkets, and how they allow East and South East Asian people to connect to their heritage.
Who is Chinatown for?, by Xiao Ma
The New Chinatowns, by Barclay Bram
The Vittles Guide to London’s Chinatowns, by various
The Vittles Guide to the UK’s Chinatowns (including individual guides to Birmingham, Manchester, Liverpool, Cambridge and Glasgow), by various
In the ever-evolving landscape of British grocery culture over the last decade, Asian supermarkets have undergone a remarkable transformation. Previously, supermarkets like SeeWoo and Wing Yip were anchored in ethnically diverse suburbs and Chinatowns. Their modest storefronts hid their true importance: in addition to being lifelines for families seeking a taste of home, they also propped up the entire immigrant-owned hospitality trade, providing the essential and hard-to-find ingredients which are needed to cook and survive.
Today, Asian convenience stores and supermarkets have reshaped British eating habits. From family-run mom-and-pop corner shops to sleek chain establishments like H Mart and Oseyo, Asian grocery shops have transcended niche status to become a nationwide cultural phenomenon. Even major UK supermarkets have caught on: their outdated ‘oriental’ aisles, once full of novelty items, now stock products that have infiltrated nearly every kitchen in the country.
The newer Asian supermarkets – the ones with in-store noodle pit stops and friends-only WeChat groups for exclusive deals – are great, but for many people, myself included, stepping into older stores like Wing Yip feels like something more than a shopping trip. You can easily lose hours of your life amid the narrow aisles pulsing with Aaron Kwok’s Cantopop hits, fighting Asian aunties over the freshest bunches of morning glory or marvelling at the live fish tanks as if in an aquarium.
These stores have been there for us when we need them, providing a tangible link to our past as well as an education about new ingredients that can rekindle connections to our cultural roots. They’re sanctuaries for people who don’t quite feel like they belong, or for those who want to top up their Asianness. This compilation celebrates supermarkets and shops around the UK that have fostered the country’s East and South-East Asian communities. Accessible, affordable, warm and welcoming, they now come with the latest stupid Buldak ramen flavour as seen on TikTok. Angela Hui
Asia Supermarket, Belfast
Katie Goh, writer and author
When I was a kid living on the outskirts of Belfast, our day trips into the city usually ended with a stop on the Ormeau Road, at a warehouse called Asia Supermarket. Asia Supermarket was the only large-scale Asian supermarket in Belfast – and in Northern Ireland – when I was growing up. For three decades, it was the only place Chinese restaurateurs and immigrants went to get ingredients and do their shopping. It was like a portal out of the North, which back then was 99% white. In the warehouse, I was surrounded by Asians. Back outside, it was as if they had disappeared.
Sometimes my brothers and I would stay in the car, shouting ‘Pocky! Pocky!’ at my dad as he went in to pick up our essentials: rice, sauce packets and vegetables that weren’t yet available in Tesco. Other times, we would join him in the dimly lit warehouse to make sure he chose the right flavour of Nissin noodles. One day, as I was helping to carry boxes of food in from the car, I tripped over on our driveway and got a gnarly cut on my left knee. The little gravel stones buried their way under my skin. Two decades on, I still have the scar.
In 2018, Asia Supermarket moved to a shiny, multi-storey building – a relocation that cost millions, according to the Belfast Telegraph. I visited it recently when I was back home. It is a world away from the warehouse of my childhood. The new Asia Supermarket is large, brightly lit and filled with Chinese, Korean, Thai and Malaysian food. At the top of the building is an excellent cafe serving rice and curry as well as salads and sandwiches. The clientele has also changed dramatically: when I was there, I saw as many white people as Asian.
Asia Supermarket’s glow-up has made it more popular with, and perhaps more palatable to, white locals. I like the new building, and good on the owners for their success, but I remain nostalgic for the dimly lit warehouse that inadvertently gave me my scar.