Fuzhou restaurant marks ten years, serving up a taste of home

On 55th Street and Eighth Avenue in Sunset Park sits 美食林鱼丸 (Maylin Garden), a traditional restaurant specializing in Fuzhou snacks. The menu centers on Bianrou (wonton-like dumplings), fish balls, Yanwan (stuffed meatballs), and Banmian (mixed noodles) — flavors that many Fuzhou immigrants know by heart and miss from home.

Behind the modest storefront stands owner and chef Zheng Lin, who has been cooking for 30 years. This year marks the restaurant’s tenth anniversary and looking back on his journey from trial and error to building a steady customer base, Lin says: “What I make is a taste from our hometown in Fuzhou. What I’m really selling is the feeling of home.”

Family upheaval changed a cook’s fate

Lin, a fourth-generation chef, was born in Shanggan town, Minhou county, near Fuzhou. “Back then, people in China weren’t afraid of being poor, but of going hungry. No matter how poor, a cook wouldn’t starve—and I’ve always loved to eat,” he said. After graduating high school, he apprenticed under a well-known local chef.

“My master had a strict way of teaching. I practiced knife skills for three years before he let me near the wok. A lot of people train for just a year and think they’re ready, but I didn’t start stir-frying until after five years,” Lin recalled.

With his solid foundation, he rose to head chef, earning a salary that was high compared with most at the time. But his life changed when his mother was diagnosed with cancer. In an era without health insurance, the family was left with heavy debts.

“I spent a lot of time with my mother, and was basically half unemployed. After she passed away, I could have gone back to work, but even if I didn’t spend a penny it would have taken me ten years to repay that debt.” Realizing there was no way out, Lin made the decision in 2004 to leave for New York.

A difficult journey to a strong reputation

Lin’s path as a business owner in Sunset Park began almost by accident. In 2009, news spread that China’s Shuanghui Group planned to acquire U.S. meat giant Smithfield Foods. The U.S. government blocked the deal on national security grounds and even proposed restricting Chinese meat products from entering the country. Lin saw an opportunity to produce and wholesale meat products locally.

“I thought, if Chinese meat products can’t come in, I can definitely occupy this market. But what I didn’t expect was that U.S. customs was basically a sieve.”

That year he opened a shop on 62nd Street and Seventh Avenue selling wholesale meat products. But low-priced Chinese imports continued to flood the market, and he lost money year after year. “I thought I was starting out with a monopoly, but the source wasn’t cut off. And for consumers, Chinese products with additives actually taste better.”

The location didn’t help either. At the time, nearby housing was sparse, the Eighth Avenue subway station wasn’t yet open, and foot traffic was light. To turn things around, Lin tried everything from handing out samples to giving away food.

“There were garment factories nearby, and I slowly gave tastings to the seamstresses. They told relatives in other states that the products were good, and those relatives started buying and recommending them,” he said.

He even rented space in front of other shops to set up a stall. To appeal to broader tastes, he expanded beyond Fuzhou dishes, adding specialties like Shanghai smoked fish and Sichuan pickled chicken feet. After years of persistence, he gradually built a reputation. In 2015, he opened his current Eighth Avenue restaurant, offering sit-down dining while continuing his wholesale business.

“Now I can survive on Eighth Avenue because of my loyal customers, and also new customers who come after hearing about us.”

Surviving policy shifts and market change

With federal immigration enforcement ramping up, Chinese restaurants were not spared. Lin said many of his workers left out of fear of raids. “People panicked, and felt they had no security. And at the same time business went down. We used to have 21 workers—now it’s 11.”

He believes what people call a “bad economy” isn’t that families don’t have money, but that uncertainty makes them cautious. “Everyone just sticks to the basics and doesn’t dare spend. My schedule is so tight now, I feel like I’m working five jobs in the restaurant. If I don’t cover the positions myself, I’ll lose money.”

As Eighth Avenue’s traditional restaurants give way to fast-food chains and trendy bakeries, Lin says he isn’t worried. As long as businesses operate legally, he supports them.

“It’s fair competition. The old way of thinking was monopoly, one place dominating. But the food business is a service industry. When an area grows together and offers quality service, that’s the real way to survive.”