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Beef Ho Fun
That definitely looks delicious!
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I love a good urban legend story, even if it does take place outside of the tri-state (and in this case, outside of the United States!). In an act of synchronicity, I've come across this tale a few times in the past month or so and thought it would be fitting for this time of the year. Not only does it take place in December, but it also mirrors one of my personal resolutions for 2025...
Back in December of 1989, there was a busy little tea house in the Tai Po neighborhood of Hong Kong called Chao Chung Kee. One evening, the restaurant received a telephone order for delivery. The caller requested a feast for four, including beef ho fun and char siu rice, among other dishes. As soon as the food was ready, it was sent out with a delivery man to the Hei Hau Fai Gardens residence.
Much to the chagrin of any delivery person, the residence in question was dark and quiet. After a frustratingly amount of time knocking at the door, it finally opened. All the delivery person could see was a black void, out of which came a pale hand, clutching some bills. A voice from the void requested that the food be left on the stoop. Payment was exchanged, and the delivery man made his regular pleasantries and headed back to the restaurant.
That evening, the owner of the restaurant was counting the day's income and noticed that among the bills were several pieces of brittle "joss paper." Joss paper, also known as ghost or Hell money, were non-legal tender bills that were usually burned by family members in veneration of the deceased. The idea was to make sure that our deceased ancestors had enough money to cover everything they'd need in the afterlife. More than a little miffed, the owner chalked it up to either a practical joke or an honest mistake.
He changed his mind the next day.
Once again, a call came in from Hei Hau Fai Gardens requesting a feast for four to be delivered. When the same delivery driver went out, it was a repeat of the day before. A hand clutching bills poked out and the food was left on the stoop. At closing, more joss paper was found among the day's profits.
When the same call came in for a third day in a row, the owner himself decided to deliver the food. He found the conditions much the same as reported by his delivery man, but this time, before leaving, he confirmed that the money given was legal tender. So, it was quite the surprise when later on, MORE joss paper was found among the day's earnings. At that point, the owner of the restaurant decided to get the police involved.
The police arrived at the residence, yet no one answered the door. They finally resorted to kicking the door down and were met with a stench of death and decay. Around a mahjong table, still set up for play, were four young men, obviously deceased. However, there were no wounds or other signs of what killed them so quickly and without warning. Investigation, however, would offer up some answers. The men were killed by carbon monoxide poisoning from a makeshift coal-burning stove. They had been deceased for at least a week when found, based on decomposition....but that didn't quite make sense.
Neighbors had heard the talking of young men and clink of mahjong tiles as recent as the night before! Not to mention, SOMEONE was answering the door and receiving food delivery. Interestingly, the same order that was dropped off three days in a row by the Chao Chung Kee restaurant matched up with the 'fresh' food that was found undigested within the stomachs of the mens' corpses.
Like many people this time of year, I've made a plan to reduce the amount of takeout food I order, both for health and for financial reasons. But, I admittedly am a little bit addicted. I hate to cook, and I certainly enjoy the luxury of choosing favorite dishes from favorite restaurants to have delivered straight to my door. That makes me wonder if that when I die, will I still try to partake in this activity as long as I can?
Obviously, this tale is less ghost story and more urban legend. Although we've got some pretty definitive dates and place names, none of these can really be verified. When you search for any of the terms, the first results are always re-tellings of the ghostly mahjong players. Further, variations of the tale date back all the way to right after World War 2. But why? With many urban legends, there is some reason behind the tale, usually a morality tale or warning to act in a certain way. Is this a subtle reminder from the companies that produce joss paper to stock up, because you never know when your deceased loved ones will have a craving for beef ho fun?
The awesome blog,
Urban FolkOres, shares an early variant of the tale and offers up one of those grains of truth that so often accompany urban legends. It seems that in 1953, a local newspaper shared a story about a group playing mahjong in a Hong Kong apartment who noticed several pairs of disembodied hands had joined their game! They fled in terror, but word spread and people from all over flooded the area to see where the haunted apartment with the mahjong playing ghosts was located. This ended up being a hoax, stemming from a dispute with the landlord and tenants.
I hope you enjoyed this urban legend as much as I did. Have a happy holiday season, and remember, it's up to you to ensure that your loved ones' fast food fix is fulfilled in the afterlife!
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