Bobby
Wong ’77

Bobby Wong and his siblings are the third generation to run the restaurant, which his parents, William and Madeline, gave its noteworthy South Seas vibe after they took it over from his father-in-law in the late 1950s. It was William who renamed the restaurant Kowloon, after the Hong Kong peninsula where he began his safe passage to the U.S. from China in 1939, according to the Boston Globe. These days, Kowloon is one of the last remaining holdouts of what had been a landscape of kitsch along of the North Shore’s busiest roadways: residents and commuters of a certain age will remember the Hilltop Steak House giant cactus sign and signature cattle sculptures, and the giant orange dinosaur that welcomed visitors to a mini-golf course (T-Rex was saved from Route 1 extinction and now sits on a retaining wall for a nearby development).

It’s no surprise then that fans took a collective gasp when the Wong family announced in 2021 that the existing Kowloon building would eventually be torn down, to be replaced with two large apartment buildings, one of which will feature a scaled-down version of Kowloon. Right now it’s all about getting proper permits, conducting traffic studies, and keeping everything on task, says Wong.

“You have to think of an exit strategy or at least the next chapter. If you don’t, you’ll get stuck, either by old age or a health situation, and you’ll be forced to do something you didn’t want to do,” says Wong. “We’re dictating our future, rather than our future coming on so fast.”

With any family business there’s a lot of challenging times along with all the success. “I’m lucky that most of our siblings followed the lead of our parents: always very giving and humble. Maybe we’ve raised our voices a little, or shed some tears, but that’s how it is with a family.”

He recalls his father encouraging each of them to take sabbaticals from the restaurant, to avoid burnout and to keep the family close. Family support likely helped the eatery survive the COVID-19 pandemic, as did its footprint; massive parking areas were transformed into outdoor dining to allow for social distancing.

In this business, says Wong, “there are moments when you want to give it up, but you know, it’s funny: when you start talking with other people in the industry, you realize you’re not really alone in the stress. Whether it’s staffing, or a customer from hell … you’re part of this fraternity, a camaraderie exists because you know how each other feels.” He said in a family-run business, “we do take things more personally” for better or worse.

Kowloon has its regulars who come in every week for Polynesian fare and flare, but it also holds a special place as an annual outing for families — a special occasion dinner out for holidays or a birthday.

It’s hard for Wong to comprehend the lore that is the Kowloon experience from a customers’ perspective. “I can’t put myself in the ‘outside of the restaurant’ shoes because I was born in this restaurant basically. My whole life has been this restaurant.”

That’s why he didn’t see going home every weekend during college as a chore.

“I was going home to work for my parents to take some of the load off of them, hopefully reduce their workload,” he says, adding that he made the most of his Monday-Friday life in Durham.

He fondly talks of his four years in Engelhardt Hall: “I loved dorm life, like when there was a big game on TV in the common room, or in springtime everybody would put their speakers out their windows and play Frisbee outside. I had the best life at UNH; I had great roommates and made great friends there.”

At UNH, he found the hospitality major was a great fit. He recalls one business school professor commending him on a job well done on an assignment, but then quipped, ‘This was probably pretty easy for you.’

“He knew I’d been working in hospitality with my family practically all my life.”

He notes that at the time, there wasn’t a large Asian population at UNH (much like there wasn’t in his high school in Belmont, Massachusetts). He says that while UNH may not have been a “melting pot racially, it was a melting pot demographically,” making it an ideal learning environment.

Now, more than three decades later, you can usually find Wong on weekend nights at the host station, welcoming guests with a big smile. He reminds staff that people come to their restaurant sometimes to celebrate with family and friends, or to escape something they’re going through in their daily life.

“I say: whatever the reason, they chose us, they chose to come here to spend their hard-earned money. Let’s make their meal part of their fond memories with family and friends.”

He says customers comment on the welcoming hospitality, which he believes is rooted in solving problems for customers. “I’ve had people say their kids don’t eat Chinese food, and I say, ‘Bring a happy meal from McDonald’s if you need to; I don’t care, I just want you to be happy.”

Wong believes that’s the most fulfilling part of the job, despite the stresses of running a restaurant. “You don’t give up a lot of your holidays, weekends if you don’t enjoy people having a good time. If you don’t see the benefits of making people happy, then you’re in the wrong business.”

That goes for customers and employees, many of whom Wong hopes might claim an ownership stake in the new, reimagined Kowloon.

“My philosophy as a boss is to just be good to each other. Everybody has their dreams. My goal is to be one of those shining lights helping someone else. I know we can’t solve all the world’s problems, but just being able to be good … Hopefully I’ll go down as being known as a good guy, not just a successful guy.”