Origin of Hong Kong’s ‘peace buns’, Cheung Chau Bun Festival’s iconic snack

For a few days every spring, crowds of people jump on ferries taking them to Hong Kong’s outlying island of Cheung Chau, drawn by the Taoist spectacle that blends religious devotion, carnival parade and athletic competition: the Cheung Chau Bun Festival. Also known as the Da Jiu festival, the event – which this year runs from May 21 to 25 – coincides with Buddha’s Birthday on the eighth day of the fourth lunar month, falling on May 24 in 2026. The festival’s highlights include the Piu Sik parade, where children dressed as deities are carried through the streets on steel frames, and the bun scrambling competition, which has become one of the most iconic traditional events in Hong Kong. Amid the bamboo structures and vibrant processions, a big part of the festival rests on something small and sweet: the ping on bao (“peace bun”), a steamed bun with a red or pink stamp on the surface denoting the Chinese characters for peace. Not just a popular holiday snack, it is also a living artefact of Hong Kong’s maritime history. The reverence for the ping on bao – and the origins of the festival itself – dates back to the late Qing dynasty. Local lore tells of a devastating plague and fierce pirate raids that ravaged the 18th century fishing community of Cheung Chau. Legend has it that the islanders successfully banished these evil spirits by erecting an altar at the Pak Tai Temple and marching statues of their patron deities through the narrow village streets. In gratitude, the villagers established an annual thanksgiving festival, offering ping on bao to roaming spirits and victims of the epidemic. These buns are at the heart of the Da Jiu festival, a tradition that has since been recognised on Hong Kong’s representative list of intangible cultural heritage. Baking history: the buns of Cheung Chau “As for how to make them, it’s actually very simple,” says Martin Kwok Yu-tin of Kwok Kam Kee, a family business that has made ping on bao and other Chinese pastries on Cheung Chau island for over 55 years. “I usually use five ingredients: flour, baking powder, yeast, water and sugar.” Kwok, the business’ second-generation owner, who took over from his father around eight years ago, adds that some stores may add oil to create a smoother texture. And while some Chinese pastries require lard, “because the festival is a vegetarian event, we definitely do not put it in”. Traditionally, the whole of Cheung Chau goes vegetarian during particular days of the festival, with most seafood restaurants – and even the local McDonald’s – adhering to this practice. Low-protein flour is also typically preferred when making ping on bao as it gives them their signature looser, delicate structure, as opposed to the high-protein flour generally used in items like piggy buns, which gives them a chewier texture. After forming a dough with all the ingredients, Kwok’s staff divides it into equal portions and adds the filling. At Kwok Kam Kee, the flavours are traditional: red bean, lotus seed, and black and white sesame. The bun is left to ferment before steaming and stamping. The whole production process for each batch takes about two hours. During peak season, staff produce up to 10,000 buns in a single day. “It’s very simple, but the most important step is the fermentation process,” Kwok says. “Because we’re not a large company with a fermentation room, the process depends on the weather. On a day like today, when it’s humid and warmer, the fermentation time is shorter. If it’s winter, when it’s frozen and drier, the fermentation time is longer.” The relationship between the islanders and the buns is best illustrated by the famous bun scrambling competition. Historically, three massive, 60-foot (18.2-metre) bamboo towers were erected near the Pak Tai Temple, completely covered in thousands of real ping on bao. At the stroke of midnight, locals would scramble up the towers to retrieve as many buns as possible. The higher the bun, the more blessings it promised to bring to their family. In the contemporary version, the buns have been replaced by plastic replicas, and only participants who have completed the necessary safety training sessions are eligible to take part in the scramble. For Kwok, making ping on bao is not just about creating a yummy snack, but also a matter of cultural responsibility. “As a boy, born and raised in Cheung Chau, I’ve been going in and out of this shop since I was a child, watching my dad make buns. So, I’ve probably been influenced by it and feel a responsibility to promote this,” he says. The ping on bao tradition has steadily spread to urban Hong Kong, too, with prominent restaurants and hotels creating their own flavourful offerings and festive versions of these treats. While Kwok always finds new marketing methods to “inject something new without losing tradition”, such as creating and selling ping on bao-themed plushies, he says the company’s steamed buns will remain traditional. What began as a local ritual to ward off tragedy has transformed into a cultural celebration, allowing locals and tourists alike to echo the bun’s message of good fortune far beyond Cheung Chau’s shores.

Origin of Hong Kong’s ‘peace buns’, Cheung Chau Bun Festival’s iconic snack

.css-1c6uqr6{color:inherit;font-weight:inherit;font-size:inherit;font-family:inherit;line-height:inherit;overflow-wrap:break-word;}‘Ping on bao’ are both happily eaten and the focus of the festival’s famous bun scrambling competition. One baker explains how he makes them

‘Ping on bao’ are both happily eaten and the focus of the festival’s famous bun scrambling competition. One baker explains how he makes them