Ken Chong remembers weekends spent at his parents’ farm, loading up the wagon with winter melon and storing them in the greenhouse. “It was popular for making soup,” he said, “and for several years Dad exported the melons to Ottawa, Montreal and Newfoundland.”Before that, his grandfather Henry grew bok choy and gai lan at Jane Street and Eglinton Avenue West. “Our family history has always been in farming, even back in China,” Chong said.Henry was co-founder of Charlie Chong Farm, one of the first commercial farms in the city that specialized in Chinese produce. It supplied Toronto’s original Chinatown on Elizabeth Street, as well as small-town restaurants. The farm didn’t just fulfil the needs of Chinese residents, but also introduced new produce to the rest of the population for decades.To commemorate the farm’s contribution to the city’s culinary legacy, Heritage Toronto recently unveiled a plaque commemorating Charlie Chong Farm, to be displayed at the farm’s original site. But the plaque also marks another event in Canadian history. A hundred years ago, on July 1, 1923 the Chinese Immigration Act, better known as the Chinese Exclusion Act, was enacted.For 24 years the Canadian government prohibited Chinese immigration, which prevented family reunification, contributed to social isolation and stalled economic development among Chinese-Canadian communities. Chong spoke with the Star about what life was like back then for his grandfather under the act, his family’s legacy on the current food scene and the stories missing from the history books.How did Charlie Chong Farm come to be?My grandfather Henry (Jong Kee Chuck) landed in Victoria, B.C., in 1909. He was 11. Regrettably my father isn’t around for me to find out more, but Henry came with someone and worked for a few years. Two, three years later he linked up with Charlie Chong (Jong Chung Yuet). They’re not connected to our family tree, but we’re all family in some way because they lived near each other in the same village (in Guangdong). They ended up at Jane Street and Eglinton Avenue West in 1919. Back then there was very rich, fertile soil. Vegetables grew abundantly and the Humber River was right there. They built a farmhouse on two-and-a-half acres of land and then bought another three acres across the street. Year after year they grew the usual western vegetables: lettuce, carrots, onions and celery.Charlie and Henry not only had to deal with the exclusion act, but there was also the Head Tax that came before it. Each of them paid $500 just to enter Canada because they were Chinese.They paid the Head Tax to enter Canada but couldn’t bring their family over so they hired other immigrants and farm labourers to help instead. The business did well. They started with nothing, but were able to save money to buy tools and equipment, build a greenhouse and send money back home. During the 24-year ban, there were only 50 documented Chinese immigrants who were able to enter Canada due to special exceptions. Other than that, it was mostly single Chinese men here. That must have added to the stresses of being a farmer.They only had a few handful of Chinese people they knew. It was hard to socially integrate because there was so much bias against Chinese people. They had neighbours who would say hello, but they probably wouldn’t be your best friends and have a drink with you at the bar. Their social interaction was going to the market, the store or the suppliers to buy seeds and tools. That’s about it. And then the Exclusion Act was repealed in 1947. What happened after that?Immigration kicked off like crazy in the ’50s, the same time the Communist Party took over China in 1949. My father, Harry (Oye Suey Chong), came to Toronto in 1950 at 18 and took over from his father, my grandfather, in the farm operations. The Chinese community was growing, so they transitioned from lettuce and carrots to bok choy, choy sum, winter melon, bitter melon. Gai lan was my dad’s signature vegetable. He also got a tractor. Before that, they were using a horse to plow the field. We were a primary source for vegetables in Chinatown, and other Chinese farmers started growing as well, creating friendly competition.Chinese communities grew, not just in Toronto but also Ottawa, Kingston, Hamilton, Windsor, Montreal, and you know in every town there’s at least one Chinese restaurant. So we exported vegetables as well. How long did the farm operate for?Hurricane Hazel flooded the whole valley in 1954, causing a lot of damage and death. The Metro Toronto and Region Conservation Authority had to figure out how to contain future floods and one of the decisions was to expropriate land in the valley, which is where the farm was. Residents and farmers started moving out by the early ’60s. My father and his business partner, Charlie’s son, continued to the bitter end and were the last to leave in 1966.What happened after the original farm closed?Dad operated a farm in Brampton where I grew up with my mom and siblings. Dad was still known for supplying Chinatown and restaurants as far as Newfoundland, North Bay, Sault Ste. Marie. I worked on the farm as a teen. We then all went to university, helping Mom and Dad on the farm on weekends until they retired (in the early 2000s).But one of your sons, Braden, is kind of keeping the food tradition alive and introducing regional Chinese cooking to diners as the chef at Yorkville’s Mimi Chinese and partner of Sunny’s Chinese in Kensington Market, right?It’s a testament to Braden and (executive chef and business partner) David Schwartz that they insisted on delivering an experience that’s different to the typical Chinatown, Markham restaurant experience. If my dad was still farming today, he’d be so blown away that his grandson stayed in the food business.Karon Liu is a Toronto-based food reporter for the Star. Reach him via email: karonliu@thestar.ca
Ken Chong remembers weekends spent at his parents’ farm, loading up the wagon with winter melon and storing them in the greenhouse. “It was popular for making soup,” he said, “and for several years Dad exported the melons to Ottawa, Montreal and Newfoundland.”
Before that, his grandfather Henry grew bok choy and gai lan at Jane Street and Eglinton Avenue West. “Our family history has always been in farming, even back in China,” Chong said.
Henry was co-founder of Charlie Chong Farm, one of the first commercial farms in the city that specialized in Chinese produce. It supplied Toronto’s original Chinatown on Elizabeth Street, as well as small-town restaurants. The farm didn’t just fulfil the needs of Chinese residents, but also introduced new produce to the rest of the population for decades.
To commemorate the farm’s contribution to the city’s culinary legacy, Heritage Toronto recently unveiled a plaque commemorating Charlie Chong Farm, to be displayed at the farm’s original site. But the plaque also marks another event in Canadian history. A hundred years ago, on July 1, 1923 the Chinese Immigration Act, better known as the Chinese Exclusion Act, was enacted.
For 24 years the Canadian government prohibited Chinese immigration, which prevented family reunification, contributed to social isolation and stalled economic development among Chinese-Canadian communities. Chong spoke with the Star about what life was like back then for his grandfather under the act, his family’s legacy on the current food scene and the stories missing from the history books.
How did Charlie Chong Farm come to be?
My grandfather Henry (Jong Kee Chuck) landed in Victoria, B.C., in 1909. He was 11. Regrettably my father isn’t around for me to find out more, but Henry came with someone and worked for a few years. Two, three years later he linked up with Charlie Chong (Jong Chung Yuet). They’re not connected to our family tree, but we’re all family in some way because they lived near each other in the same village (in Guangdong).
They ended up at Jane Street and Eglinton Avenue West in 1919. Back then there was very rich, fertile soil. Vegetables grew abundantly and the Humber River was right there. They built a farmhouse on two-and-a-half acres of land and then bought another three acres across the street. Year after year they grew the usual western vegetables: lettuce, carrots, onions and celery.
Charlie and Henry not only had to deal with the exclusion act, but there was also the Head Tax that came before it. Each of them paid $500 just to enter Canada because they were Chinese.
They paid the Head Tax to enter Canada but couldn’t bring their family over so they hired other immigrants and farm labourers to help instead. The business did well. They started with nothing, but were able to save money to buy tools and equipment, build a greenhouse and send money back home. During the 24-year ban, there were only 50 documented Chinese immigrants who were able to enter Canada due to special exceptions. Other than that, it was mostly single Chinese men here.
That must have added to the stresses of being a farmer.
They only had a few handful of Chinese people they knew. It was hard to socially integrate because there was so much bias against Chinese people. They had neighbours who would say hello, but they probably wouldn’t be your best friends and have a drink with you at the bar. Their social interaction was going to the market, the store or the suppliers to buy seeds and tools. That’s about it.
And then the Exclusion Act was repealed in 1947. What happened after that?
Immigration kicked off like crazy in the ’50s, the same time the Communist Party took over China in 1949. My father, Harry (Oye Suey Chong), came to Toronto in 1950 at 18 and took over from his father, my grandfather, in the farm operations. The Chinese community was growing, so they transitioned from lettuce and carrots to bok choy, choy sum, winter melon, bitter melon. Gai lan was my dad’s signature vegetable. He also got a tractor. Before that, they were using a horse to plow the field. We were a primary source for vegetables in Chinatown, and other Chinese farmers started growing as well, creating friendly competition.
Chinese communities grew, not just in Toronto but also Ottawa, Kingston, Hamilton, Windsor, Montreal, and you know in every town there’s at least one Chinese restaurant. So we exported vegetables as well.
How long did the farm operate for?
Hurricane Hazel flooded the whole valley in 1954, causing a lot of damage and death. The Metro Toronto and Region Conservation Authority had to figure out how to contain future floods and one of the decisions was to expropriate land in the valley, which is where the farm was. Residents and farmers started moving out by the early ’60s. My father and his business partner, Charlie’s son, continued to the bitter end and were the last to leave in 1966.
What happened after the original farm closed?
Dad operated a farm in Brampton where I grew up with my mom and siblings. Dad was still known for supplying Chinatown and restaurants as far as Newfoundland, North Bay, Sault Ste. Marie. I worked on the farm as a teen. We then all went to university, helping Mom and Dad on the farm on weekends until they retired (in the early 2000s).
But one of your sons, Braden, is kind of keeping the food tradition alive and introducing regional Chinese cooking to diners as the chef at Yorkville’s Mimi Chinese and partner of Sunny’s Chinese in Kensington Market, right?
It’s a testament to Braden and (executive chef and business partner) David Schwartz that they insisted on delivering an experience that’s different to the typical Chinatown, Markham restaurant experience. If my dad was still farming today, he’d be so blown away that his grandson stayed in the food business.
Karon Liu is a Toronto-based food reporter for the Star. Reach him via email: karonliu@thestar.ca
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