Champion Bolo Bun’s Young Boss, 21, On How She Set Up S’pore’s Buzziest Cafe
Hoh Loyi trained in the male-dominated kitchen of a Hong Kong cha chaan teng for two years before opening her own bolo bun biz.
“Have you been to Champion Bolo Bun?” is a question we have been hearing from our family and friends. The 70-seat cafe, housed in a three-storey Tanjong Pagar shophouse, is one of the most exciting additions to Singapore’s F&B scene since its soft opening in April this year.
There are only bolo buns here
It sells just its namesake bolo bao, aka pineapple bun, the classic Hong Kong cha chaan teng pastry with a burnished, craggy crust that resembles a pineapple rind. The bolo bun comes in four iterations: Classic, Classic with Butter, Curry Potato and Mini of 4.
Queues form almost immediately
Just a week after opening, the cafe already has a snaking line and a 30-minute wait for its freshly-baked bolo buns. Customers start queuing up half an hour before opening. It’s the dream scenario for F&B owners, but one that’s as rare as an empty hawker centre table at peak lunch hour.
Classic with Butter, $5
Champion’s massive popularity boils down to this: it offers the uncommon combination of fab food and drinks in a visually appealing space. The sparse, all-white cafe resembles a Japanese art museum, with tasteful rattan and wooden furniture scattered around.
This cafe’s golden-brown buns, served fresh out of the oven, sport a lightly crisp — almost crunchy — buttery and eggy crust crowning a soft, fluffy bun. Order the fantastic Classic with Butter ($5), and you get a thick pat of cold New Zealand butter wedged in. But we say order a few rounds of the Curry Potato ($6), stuffed with a fragrant, mildly spicy potato filling. The Classic ($4.50) and Mini of 4 ($4.50) are just as good, but go for the other buns if you want maximum satisfaction.
Opened by a 21-year-old boss
The owner and driving force behind Champion Bolo Bun is 21-year-old Hoh Loyi. Born in Kuala Lumpur to a family who runs their own hardware business, she moved to Singapore to study when she was in Primary Two. After completing her ‘O’ Levels at Broadrick Secondary School, Loyi’s friends made plans to attend local junior colleges and polytechnics. But she had a different idea.Curious about bread-making, she decided to study the subject at the China Grain Products Research & Development Institute in Taipei. “Bread is a very mature and respected industry in Taiwan,” she enthuses to 8days.sg. “A lot of people go there to learn bread-making theory, and bakers are brought to a whole new level there.”She recognises that “a lot of science and chemistry goes into making good bread”. She muses: “It’s 30 per cent theory, 70 per cent practical. You need to know the basic theories well. My textbook was so thick. I’m not gonna lie, I’m not even halfway through it!”But Loyi took her one-year course in Taiwan seriously. “I wasn’t there to waste time or have fun. I wanted to explore if this route was suitable for me,” she explains. “The institution was so ulu, I had to take a bus for 45 minutes from the train station at Tamsui, and walk another 15 minutes to school.”
A young girl in a male-dominated cha chaan teng kitchen
Loyi’s year in Taiwan cemented her love for baking. “I was like, oh! I really like it! I want to be a baker,” she chirps. After she returned to Singapore, Loyi admits to “feeling lost for a few months”, while she figured out what to do next.During a trip to Hong Kong in 2016, she frequented a cha chaan teng — she declined to name which — in Mongkok which serves “the best-rated bolo buns in HK”. A fan of the pastry, she boldly asked the head chef there to teach her how to make bolo buns. Unsurprisingly, he turned her down. “He didn’t just accept me. But I persistently asked him a few more times, and he decided to take me in,” she recalls.
I wonder whether she has to do everything all by herself, if so the amount of physical labour involved is most definitely back-breaking to say the least........
This jiuhu mei makes Jeanette Aw look weak.
Champion Bolo Bun’s Young Boss, 21, On How She Set Up S’pore’s Buzziest Cafe
Hoh Loyi trained in the male-dominated kitchen of a Hong Kong cha chaan teng for two years before opening her own bolo bun biz.
“Have you been to Champion Bolo Bun?” is a question we have been hearing from our family and friends. The 70-seat cafe, housed in a three-storey Tanjong Pagar shophouse, is one of the most exciting additions to Singapore’s F&B scene since its soft opening in April this year.
There are only bolo buns here
It sells just its namesake bolo bao, aka pineapple bun, the classic Hong Kong cha chaan teng pastry with a burnished, craggy crust that resembles a pineapple rind. The bolo bun comes in four iterations: Classic, Classic with Butter, Curry Potato and Mini of 4.
Queues form almost immediately
Just a week after opening, the cafe already has a snaking line and a 30-minute wait for its freshly-baked bolo buns. Customers start queuing up half an hour before opening. It’s the dream scenario for F&B owners, but one that’s as rare as an empty hawker centre table at peak lunch hour.
Classic with Butter, $5
Champion’s massive popularity boils down to this: it offers the uncommon combination of fab food and drinks in a visually appealing space. The sparse, all-white cafe resembles a Japanese art museum, with tasteful rattan and wooden furniture scattered around.
This cafe’s golden-brown buns, served fresh out of the oven, sport a lightly crisp — almost crunchy — buttery and eggy crust crowning a soft, fluffy bun. Order the fantastic Classic with Butter ($5), and you get a thick pat of cold New Zealand butter wedged in. But we say order a few rounds of the Curry Potato ($6), stuffed with a fragrant, mildly spicy potato filling. The Classic ($4.50) and Mini of 4 ($4.50) are just as good, but go for the other buns if you want maximum satisfaction.
Opened by a 21-year-old boss
The owner and driving force behind Champion Bolo Bun is 21-year-old Hoh Loyi. Born in Kuala Lumpur to a family who runs their own hardware business, she moved to Singapore to study when she was in Primary Two. After completing her ‘O’ Levels at Broadrick Secondary School, Loyi’s friends made plans to attend local junior colleges and polytechnics. But she had a different idea. Curious about bread-making, she decided to study the subject at the China Grain Products Research & Development Institute in Taipei. “Bread is a very mature and respected industry in Taiwan,” she enthuses to 8days.sg. “A lot of people go there to learn bread-making theory, and bakers are brought to a whole new level there.” She recognises that “a lot of science and chemistry goes into making good bread”. She muses: “It’s 30 per cent theory, 70 per cent practical. You need to know the basic theories well. My textbook was so thick. I’m not gonna lie, I’m not even halfway through it!” But Loyi took her one-year course in Taiwan seriously. “I wasn’t there to waste time or have fun. I wanted to explore if this route was suitable for me,” she explains. “The institution was so ulu, I had to take a bus for 45 minutes from the train station at Tamsui, and walk another 15 minutes to school.”
A young girl in a male-dominated cha chaan teng kitchen
Loyi’s year in Taiwan cemented her love for baking. “I was like, oh! I really like it! I want to be a baker,” she chirps. After she returned to Singapore, Loyi admits to “feeling lost for a few months”, while she figured out what to do next. During a trip to Hong Kong in 2016, she frequented a cha chaan teng — she declined to name which — in Mongkok which serves “the best-rated bolo buns in HK”. A fan of the pastry, she boldly asked the head chef there to teach her how to make bolo buns. Unsurprisingly, he turned her down. “He didn’t just accept me. But I persistently asked him a few more times, and he decided to take me in,” she recalls.
More at https://www.8days.sg/eatanddrink/newsandopening/champion-bolo-bun-s-young-boss-21-on-how-she-set-up-s-pore-s-15386246
欧萱zeh zeh so poor thing, mai bully her leh
Woody Xuan can always sell melons, I bet they will be a hit with customers! ;)
This EDMWer says it best:
Score brownie points by simply blaming it all on physical/mental exhaustion, very naise.