Cover Designed to feel like a home away from home, the interior of Jean May was a reflection of Lo’s own personality—welcoming and deeply honest
Designed to feel like a home away from home, the interior of Jean May was a reflection of Lo’s own personality—welcoming and deeply honest
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After five years on Hong Kong’s bistro scene, the protégé of Pierre Koffmann opens up about the unglamorous reality of rising costs, new-generation work culture and what’s next
Located on Wan Chai’s Gresson Street, framed by local flower stalls and wet market vendors, Jean May stood as a rare bastion of independent, chef-led dining. Named after her grandmother, the bistro was chef Tiffany Lo’s deeply personal tribute to classic French cooking, a project realised after years of rigorous training in London.
Lo is a career changer who traded a stable path in law for the heat of the kitchen at age 27. Her culinary foundation is built on the discipline of London’s elite kitchens, including stints under culinary titans like Michel Roux Jr at Le Gavroche and Phil Howard at The Square. However, it was her time with the legendary Pierre Koffmann that perhaps defined her most; she remains one of the few Hong Kong chefs to be considered a true protégé of “The Bear” of French cuisine.
Since opening in the volatile summer of 2020, Jean May earned a loyal following for its technical craft and soul-warming dishes, most notably the razor clams with Gresson Street herbs and her signature pistachio soufflé, a recipe gifted to her by Koffmann himself. But in March 2026, the doors quietly closed. I sat down with Lo to discuss the emotional toll of saying goodbye and the harsh economic climate currently reshaping Hong Kong’s dining landscape.
In case you missed it: Meet Jean May, The Newest Independent French Bistro In Wan Chai
Above Tiffany Lo, the lawyer-turned-chef who brought a slice of London’s high-pressure kitchen discipline to the streets of Wan Chai
Tiffany Lo, the lawyer-turned-chef who brought a slice of London’s high-pressure kitchen discipline to the streets of Wan Chai
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Now that it has been a month since Jean May’s final service, how are you processing the end of this chapter?
I’ve been telling a lot of people before I closed that it’s actually my first home because I only use my actual other home to shower and to sleep. So, yeah, it really is my home. It’s been a month since we did our last service, and I’m still working on the closing, actually. I moved a lot of stuff back home, and I’m still in the process of unpacking boxes and trying to catch up with paperwork and audit. To be honest, the emotional and people side of it I haven’t really dealt with yet. I feel nervous when I want to go near that street, and sometimes I want to look at what it’s like now, but then at the same time, I also feel a bit scared to see that it’s gone.
Rent is usually blamed for closures, but what were the other pressures you faced?
For us, it was a combination of so many things. Apart from the macro environment, the economy being bad, and the demographics changing—we lost a lot of old regular guests, and then we didn’t get those kinds of guests back—sales were really tough. Food and beverage costs have gone up so much. Some items actually went up by 60 or 70 per cent. Even potatoes. Everyone keeps the chips at the same price, but actually, potatoes have gone up by 20 per cent, and you can’t possibly charge people HK$100.
Above At Jean May, the beauty was in the classic, soulful and technically precise dishes
At Jean May, the beauty was in the classic, soulful and technically precise dishes
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What are the challenges of running an independent restaurant that people don’t really see?
One really big thing that I don’t know if this is kind of like a stigma that people are shying away from talking about... but I feel like it’s definitely something we chefs talk with each other about, but not so much on social media—about labour. The rise in labour costs has been massive, driven by big groups and hotels. It’s just a reality. Because there’s a shortage of staff and a shortage of good people. People are raising salaries by amounts that are not possible for us to match. And then at the same time, the quality of labour is also, you know, not rising or, to put it bluntly, going down. All this adds together is kind of dragging the business backwards.
That shift in labour quality sounds like a significant hurdle for a kitchen driven by classical discipline. Did you find it difficult to find that same drive in the newer generation?
All the chefs that come in are asking for money. They’re asking for good pay and good work-life balance. They are looking for all the things that F&B is traditionally not. I feel like this is where the whole industry is being driven into quite a dangerous zone. I think because without a team, you can’t go far, so I think the biggest challenge and learning curve for chefs is how to deal with a team, especially because the work culture and expectations have changed so much. It’s a completely different generation.
Above “I only used my other home to shower and sleep”, says Lo, in the kitchen that became her primary residence for five years
“I only used my other home to shower and sleep”, says Lo, in the kitchen that became her primary residence for five years
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You said that ten former staff members returned on the final service to help you cook. How did that feel?
I was really disheartened with the staff situation in the last few years, but when I closed the restaurant on the last day, I had ten ex-staff and chefs come do the last service with me. It was a full-circle moment. They made it all feel like it was well worth it. It was really touching and made me feel like I did something right.
Looking forward, you have collaborations at Carlyle & Co; can you tell us more about that?
I’m doing some collaborations and pop-ups, and I like doing them because I get a bit of a chance to talk to who I cook for, which is nice. I’ve also taken on some cooking classes, which I really enjoy because I like sharing what I’ve learned from my time in London. I definitely need to spend more time with family—I can actually go to my Mom’s doctor’s appointment with her now. I want to continue to pay homage to my ex-chefs; I’m doing Pierre Koffmann’s pistachio soufflé at one of the Carlyle events because I want to tell people that without him, I wouldn’t be the chef I am today.
Above Rooted in family: the image of Jean May, who watched over every service, from the 2020 opening to the final plate in 2026
Rooted in family: the image of Jean May, who watched over every service, from the 2020 opening to the final plate in 2026
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Does success look different to you now than it did in 2020?
I think if I can cook food that I love every day and have some people enjoy it and appreciate what I do—not just the guests, but also your team—that’s kind of one definition of success. I do plan to open something else for sure when I’m ready, but I’m not going to rush into it.
What does the next chapter look like for you?
I do plan to open something else for sure when I’m ready, but I’m not going to rush into it. Right now, I can’t imagine it being anything bigger, or even the same size as Jean May. The staff aspect of it has scared me a bit, but we’ll see.
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A storyteller by day and a first-class food devourer by night, Fontaine is the Regional Dining Editor at Tatler Asia, overseeing dining content across all regions and shaping the brand’s editorial voice on food, chefs and culinary culture.
She is also Content Lead for Tatler Best and Co-jury Head for Tatler Best Hong Kong and Macau, guiding the awards’ editorial direction and evaluation process. With over a decade in the lifestyle and media industry spanning London and Hong Kong, she brings a cross-regional perspective to the table.
Follow her on Instagram at @fontimes.
