electra-supply.comJerry Shaw has been a loyal patron of the Chicago Cafe for over 40 years. As a law professor at UC Davis, he became intrigued by a sign above the counter that read, “Chicago Cafe, established in 1903.” This prompted the Fong family from Woodland, California, to confront an unexpected dilemma.
Paul Fong, 76, and his wife Nancy, 67, have proudly operated this family-owned establishment in their community, but they’ve never delved into the broader significance of that sign. Paul immigrated from Hong Kong in 1973, and for decades, he and Nancy have dedicated themselves to the restaurant.
Their children, 47-year-old physical therapist Amy Fong and 45-year-old Apple software quality engineer Andy Fong, were raised within the fabric of the restaurant. After school, they would often help out by cleaning and doing homework, all the while under their parents’ insistence that they pursue a university education to secure better careers and steer clear of the grueling restaurant work. Now, as both children have families of their own, they look forward to their parents’ retirement, hoping for relaxation and quality time spent with their grandchildren.
However, a significant shift occurred in 2022 when Professor Gabriel Jack Chin, a specialist in immigration law, visited for lunch. With a focus on the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882, which severely restricted Chinese immigration to the U.S., Professor Chin uncovered a secret that complicated the Fong family’s plans to gradually close the restaurant: if the sign was accurate, and if the Chicago Cafe had indeed been operating since 1903, it possessed immense historical value.
In January, UC Davis published Professor Chin’s findings, revealing that among the thousands of Chinese restaurants in America, the Chicago Cafe is the oldest continuously operating restaurant in California — and likely the oldest in the entire country. Located just 20 miles northwest of Sacramento in a small agricultural town, its historical significance had gone largely unrecognized.
As the media rushed to share this story, a wave of new customers flocked to the cafe. The Woodland City Council even issued a proclamation highlighting council members’ favorite dishes. Paul and Nancy decided not to retire; instead, they opted to work harder than ever.
On a recent Friday, Amy brought her two children to the bustling restaurant, which was filled with patrons eagerly enjoying the signature dish — a hearty Americanized Chinese entrée that you wouldn’t find in China itself. Dianna Oldstad, the sole server who has been with the Fongs for decades, buzzed around, warmly greeting regulars while Paul and Nancy expertly navigated the kitchen, preparing dishes at a dizzying pace.
Amidst this flurry of activity, it was evident to Paul that he takes great pride in serving his loyal customers, many of whom have turned into friends. Yet, his daughter expressed concern, stating, “They’re too old to be working this hard every day.”
The family’s situation is becoming increasingly apparent, with longtime customers discussing what might happen after Paul and Nancy retire: Will the Chicago Cafe close its doors? What will become of its historical legacy when the Fong family steps away?
The history of a Chinese restaurant that has been a staple in the community for over a century is more complex than most would assume. Professor Chin explained that part of the challenge stems from the racism of the early 20th century, which excluded Asian immigrants from local directories until the 1930s. Therefore, confirming business records required digging deeper.
The Chinese Exclusion Act further complicated matters. While the law sought to prohibit immigration, it didn’t completely prevent it. Many Chinese immigrants resorted to purchasing the identities of American-born Chinese, posing as their relatives — these individuals were referred to as “paper sons.”
At one point, the restaurant had its own workaround for the Exclusion Act, creating a loophole that allowed business owners to bring employees from China. Following a federal court decision in the years after 1915, restaurants were added to the list of businesses permitted to sponsor such visas, resulting in a surge in Chinese restaurants across America.
It is likely that Paul’s grandfather arrived before this loophole was established. He came to the San Francisco Bay Area under the pseudonym Harry Young. The exact year is shrouded in mystery; the 1906 earthquake in San Francisco destroyed numerous naturalization records, leading many individuals to embellish their documentation.
Harry eventually moved to Woodland, where a small Chinatown had developed amidst a community built by Chinese laborers who constructed American railroads. In those days, Woodland was filled with grand Victorian buildings shading expansive lots, while the Chinatown was a modest series of wood and brick structures along a side street.
Paul has little knowledge of how his family came to own the restaurant or why it’s called the Chicago Cafe. Born in the Taishan region of Guangdong, he never met his grandfather. When Paul was young, his father left Taishan to reunite with his father in Woodland. He, too, was a paper son, known as Yee Chong Pang.
In 1973, Paul, along with his mother and Nancy, joined his father’s restaurant. Although they could have come sooner, bureaucratic hurdles remained due to their father’s and grandfather’s statuses as paper sons, even after the Immigration Act of 1965 took effect. That act ultimately opened the doors for many Asian immigrants to enter the United States.
Arriving in Woodland from the bustling city of Hong Kong, where the population exceeded 4 million, the transition was quite a shock. Woodland, housing only 20,000 people, felt different.
“In Hong Kong, it was always crowded,” he reminisced, recalling lively streets and vibrant nightlife. In Woodland, the most thrilling aspect of the night sky was the stars — without city lights, they shone brightly.
However, Paul grew fond of his new home. Despite his limited English skills, he made friends. Amy remembers the restaurant receiving deliveries of freshly killed ducks and trucks filled with Italian squash. At one point, a peacock appeared in the restaurant, a result of a friend’s mishap, but it ultimately graced the wall instead of diners’ plates.
Andy noted that over the years, their parents seldom discussed the family’s journey to Woodland. He recalled visiting the Woodland Cemetery to pay respects to his grandfather, only to be surprised by the tombstone bearing the name “Young,” not “Fong.” It was the first time he encountered the term “paper son.”
The Fong kids often spent their afternoons at the restaurant after school. Reflecting on their childhood, they recognize it as a local gathering spot, where families from various backgrounds would come to enjoy lunch and celebrate special occasions. During a recent city council meeting, nearly every member shared a personal story connected to the cafe, some dating back several decades.
“My family grew up eating at the Chicago Cafe,” Mayor Tania Garcia-Cadena remarked. Councilwoman Vicky Fernandez shared that hers did as well. “Your doors have always been open to all of us,” she added, highlighting that not every restaurant in town was as welcoming, especially to their Mexican-American family.
While Paul and Nancy take pride in their heritage, they have always understood that their children would not carry on the family business. “My dad made it clear that he wanted us to go to college and not work in the restaurant because it’s too hard,” Andy recalled. Their plan was for the Fong family to exit the restaurant industry permanently once Paul and Nancy retired.
