When it comes to ramen shops in Macao, A Chi is about as modest as they come. For starters, the eatery is tucked away at the end of an inner harbour alley called Travessa da Dorna. This means that while it’s just a few hundred metres from the Ruins of St Paul’s, the city’s chief tourist attraction, only those venturing off the beaten track will chance upon it. The no-frills shop is also tiny, with just four small metal tables flanked by plastic stools. Even with the addition of a quaint dining shack directly across a paved plaza, A Chi is compact by most standards.
While A Chi’s premises are humble, its spectacularly presented ramen dishes have been charming customers for almost 30 years. Here you’ll find quality ingredients normally reserved for fine dining – think glossy red lobsters, crab roe and mantis shrimps – arranged into works of culinary art. The prettiest dish may be an abalone starter: four plump mollusks crowned with roe, nestled into mint-lined spoons and served atop a base that billows dry ice.
A Chi’s prices are more in line with its structures than food, with a standard bowl of seafood ramen a bargain 45 patacas (US$5.60). The signature ‘half-lobster’ option goes for 20 patacas more. Seafood is not all that’s on the menu, incidentally. Noodle soups boasting Brazilian beef brisket, pork ribs and pork jowl are popular, too.
The mother-son team running A Chi is yet another drawcard. Chio Chi Ngong, 49, and his 80-year-old mum, Leong Wai Chan, tease each other as they dash between the kitchen, main restaurant and dining shack, regularly bursting into laughter. Estabelecimento de Comidas (Sopas de Fitas) A Chi – the eatery’s full name, which means ‘Food Establishment (Soup Noodles) A Chi’ – has, on the whole, been a labour of love for the pair.
From wheels to meals
The idea of opening up a ramen shop hadn’t occurred to Chio when he purchased the property back in 1994. “When I bought it, I just wanted to park my motorcycles there,” says the self-professed motorhead.
His mother, however, objected to the idea of “wasting” such a prime location on a garage. She urged her son to use it to open up their own eatery, an idea Chio had to admit made sense. He was a cook, after all, with experience working in hotel kitchens. So, he decided to follow his mum’s advice and repurpose the space into a restaurant that she would be primarily in charge of.
In the early years, ramen was not on the menu. “Initially we sold wonton and beef brisket noodles,” says Chio. But those dishes – the same items most food establishments ply – weren’t gaining traction with customers. Chio realised he needed a way to stand out from the crowd. The budding restaurateur thus came up with an innovative noodle stir fry: lo mein with his own take on XO sauce (the spicy seafood condiment that originated in Hong Kong). A Chi’s new dish turned out to be just the hit the eatery needed.
Never one to rest on his laurels, Chio kept exploring ways to make his menu shine. A fan of Japanese noodle soups himself, he began veering away from traditional Chinese cuisine to try his hand at ramen – a dish he also knew was popular with students in Macao.
This move did not please Chio’s mum, who questioned the need to venture into foreign waters. But the results spoke for themselves: “After seeing that our customers were responsive to ramen, my mother stopped protesting… so, I guess that can be regarded as a sign of the dish’s success,” says Chio.
Before finalising his ramen recipe, Chio paid a visit to Japan to research what other chefs were doing. He ultimately opted for a localised path, however, and developed a unique broth incorporating Chinese herbs. Some ramen traditionalists disagree with his take on the dish, Chio acknowledges. But A Chi’s many loyal customers are proof he landed on a recipe that resonates with Macao’s palette.
Chio also brews unique beverages, the likes of pear and fig-infused herbal tea (a popular accompaniment to meals at A Chi). He uses rock sugar in his drinks, deliberately avoiding artificial sweeteners and preservatives. “We do it old-school here,” he says. That old-school style is reflected in A Chi’s general vibe. Portraits of Che Guevara, Marilyn Monroe and Elvis hang in the dining shack, while a classic rock radio station plays unobtrusively in the main eating area.
Weathering rough times
A Chi has overcome a number of challenges over the years, like the dramatic flash floods of 2017 (which arrived courtesy of Typhoon Hato). Low-lying areas of the Inner Harbour, including parts of Travessa da Dorna, saw flooding up to two metres high. Chio recalls his fridge floating all the way to the São Domingos Market, a journey of almost half a kilometre. “There were losses from Hato, but my business wasn’t the only one in that boat,” he notes, philosophically.
Financial aid from the government in the wake of the cyclone helped tide A Chi over, Chio says. He’s also grateful to the Government’s Distinctive Shops Programme, aimed at safeguarding the city’s cultural heritage through supporting local restaurants with unique traits. As a ‘distinctive shop’, A Chi gets a marketing boost from the government.
The odd food influencer has endorsed A Chi’s ramen, too. While Chio confesses he’s never actually recognised any of them (he’s not a social media man), the chef is always appreciative of their attention. Long queues tend to form outside the eatery after they post their experiences online.
Coming full circle
While Chio has been involved with A Chi since the very beginning, he didn’t work there full time until 2013. At first, he spent his days cheffing at some of Macao’s swankiest restaurants and his nights preparing ingredients for his mum to use in the next day’s meals at A Chi. It was Chio’s time in hotels that saw him mastering fancy tricks like incorporating dry ice into his plating plans. It also took him outside of Macao for culinary competitions.
By 2013, Chio’s mother was struggling to run A Chi on her own. She was around 70 years old by then, and wanted Chio by her side in the eatery. So, he quit the hotel industry and joined his beloved mum in Travessa da Dorna.
Chio doesn’t plan to work as many years as she has. He says he already suffers from severe muscle strain due to the long-hours and physical toil involved in running the restaurant. Rather, he aims to retire at the comparatively young age of 60, in 11 years’ time. Neither of Chio’s two grown-up children want to take on the business, and he respects their choices to pursue their own careers. His kids have told him that, when retirement inevitably arrives, he should return to Plan A – and finally use the space to store his motorbikes.
In the meantime, Chio’s content to keep serving up lobster ramen to the community of customers who flock to his peaceful patio. He says he feels deeply connected to this local neighbourhood, where he’s watched a whole generation come of age eating his food. “There’s a group of children who have grown up eating here, and now they’re bringing their own children to eat here – that really keeps the emotional bond strong,” he says, beaming happily.
With just over a decade left on the clock, there might be just time to squeeze in a third generation of customers before Chio hangs up his apron for good.
