Amy Poon grew up in a Chinese culinary dynasty in London, the daughter of Bill Poon, a Hong Kong migrant who was the world’s first Chinese chef to win a Michelin star.

She read Japanese at Oxford, lived all over the world and has just opened Poon’s London, a Chinese bistro and deli selling a range of signature Poon’s sauces, dumplings and ingredients such as lap cheong (Chinese sausage), in Bermondsey’s Spa Terminus food market.

Did you feel you were always destined to work in restaurants?

I swore, having grown up in a restaurant, I would never do it. It’s a bit like the circus, because people see you as a performer, it’s fun, and it’s dangerous and sort of glamorous and glitzy. But you go behind the scenes and the circus is pretty grimy and grungy and it’s hard graft.

It was also quite lonely, because restaurants are typically open when people want to celebrate holidays, their Friday nights and weekends. But it had its benefits – in my teens, my friends would come for lunch, be treated like guests and I could order Peking duck or whatever I wanted!

Why was Poon’s such a game changer among Chinese restaurants in the UK?

Poon’s in Covent Garden broke the mould, it was where the great and the grand went. Back in those days, people thought that the Chinese food was dodgy, that you’d be fed snakes.

What really set Covent Garden apart was firstly the fact that it wasn’t in Chinatown, secondly it didn’t look like a Chinese restaurant, and thirdly my father built this glass kitchen that he plopped right in the middle of the restaurant, so everybody could see what went on – and that we had very good kitchen hygiene habits.

What about your mother’s role in the family business?

My mother is quite an extraordinary woman. As a kid, I would sit in the corner of the restaurant just doing my thing, so I would be privy to a number of conversations.

We had a chef who was quite a gambling addict, his wife was pregnant and had little kids and she came in one day, tearful. A few days later, I remember my mother saying to the chef, “Here’s your £20 for your cigarettes and newspaper, I’ve paid your rent, I’ve given money to your wife for groceries, this is how your salary has been spent, by me.” It was an attempt to protect his family from him going down to the casino.

You lived in Sydney, Tokyo, Singapore – did you ever consider Hong Kong?

I remember we first went to Hong Kong with my parents when I was 10, we stayed at The Regent Hotel and landed in Kai Tak [the former Hong Kong international airport]. I remember the smell in the harbour, asked what it was and was told ‘Darling, that’s the smell of money’.

In my early twenties, I dated someone from Hong Kong quite seriously. I’d say I was a tai-tai in training – but I never graduated. It was really fun for a bit. I guess I got to know Hong Kong not as a tourist.

What can people expect at Poon’s London?

I love to eat and love to cook but I’m not my father, I’m not a trained chef. But nothing tastes as good as nostalgia – it’s a great seasoning. So the idea is that we’re going to do Chinese home cooking, if you don’t have a nice Chinese friend who will cook for you at home.

There’s also a sort of fetishism about Chinese food. Chinese people sitting around the table crafting dumplings is about as true a representation of Chinese cooking as the film Notting Hill is about Notting Hill. Most Chinese families buy the frozen stuff!

ncG1vNJzZmivp6x7tK%2FMqWWcp51kuaqyxKyrsqSVZLOwu8Nmm6uhnqB8or7TopqlnV9of3h%2BlHJsaKifpLu0ecuopZ2nnmKzsMHNnZyrZZGixm68zqilZqifrLKzecWopp1lnqTAta3LoKCaZZGjsW6vx6KlnquVYrOwu8NmnZ6smai1qr%2FM