I scootered past rows of shuttered storefronts and boarded-up buildings before reaching Lucky 8, a Chinese takeout restaurant in one of Atlanta’s worst neighborhoods, English Avenue. The area doesn’t seem like it should have a Chinese restaurant; according to Niche, English Avenue’s demographics were 78% Black, 16% White, 1% Hispanic, and, wait for it, 0% Asian. Yet there it is. Tucked into a battered shopping plaza off Joseph E. Boone Boulevard in English Avenue, Lucky China 8, doesn’t stand out at first glance. Instead of a proper sign on top of the building, there was just a flimsy poster on the wall that marked the restaurant’s entrance: “Lucky China 8 Chinese Restaurant, Best Wings, Shrimp Fried Rice, New China Food.” The exterior looked rough but fit in with the business around it. There were barred windows, barred doors, and people loitering outside, some visibly under the influence, some simply staring blankly at me. Yet inside, the place was relatively clean, though the faded plastic chairs and tables showed its age.
A few Black customers waited in line. Off to the side, an elderly Chinese man quietly ate a plate of fried rice. Knowing there aren’t many Asians in this area, I struck up a conversation with him. He told me he was a blue collar worker from Fujian, coming here for the large portions and low prices. I asked him about the food’s taste. He shrugged. He said for immigrants like him, even Americanized Chinese takeout was preferable to typical American fast food.
In the corner, something unexpected caught my eye. There were four slot machines humming quietly. The “Lucky” in Lucky China 8 suddenly made more sense. Gambling and takeout is a strange but clever combination. In a tough neighborhood with thin margins, I suppose every extra dollar counts.
Approaching the counter, there was a layer of plexiglass separating customers from the cashier, a safety precaution normal in the businesses in the area. I asked the young Black female employee at the counter if I could speak to the owner for my final project and my oral history project. She said the owner would be back around 7 PM. She didn’t know much about the restaurant’s history as she had only recently started working there.
I browsed the menu. There was a classic lineup of cheap Americanized Chinese takeout favorites
– 2 egg rolls for $3.25
– 6 crab rangoons for $5.95
– 6 chicken wings for $7.45
– 6 fried shrimp for $5.75
Despite the affordable prices, Lucky China 8 bore an unbelievable online reputation: 1.7 stars on Google with over 480 reviews. I have never seen a worst rating on Google with so many reviews. Recent reviews had some 5 stars, but most were 1 star reviews commenting about horror stories of food poisoning, allegations of unsafe meat, lack of health code regulation. Yet somehow, against all odds, the restaurant had stayed open for decades.
One thing was for certain: I wasn’t coming back at 7 PM to meet the owner in person. In English Avenue, the violent crime rate is 2060 per 100,000, the third-highest out of 240 neighborhoods in Atlanta. For reference, the Atlanta average is 1773 and the US average is about 363 violent crimes per 100,000. Instead, I called the restaurant later that evening. The owner picked up and said he would call me back. The restaurant closes at 4 AM, so after too much waiting I just went to bed. I called again and again over the next few days. Finally, after some persistence, I scheduled a short phone interview with the owner.
The Phone Interview
The owner’s name was Qian. According to Georgia business records, his full name is Qian Cheng Zheng.
Qian said he immigrated to the U.S. over 20 years ago. Beyond that, he was reluctant to share personal details. Like many restaurant owners I tried talking to, he guarded his immigration story tightly. With how private a lot of these immigrants are about their history, I secretly question their immigration status.
Though Qian didn’t share his origins, I think he forgot he had already made some of that information public. At the top of the menu, it states: “The Most Famous Chinese Singer and The Chinese First Lady Peng Liyuan Is My Hometown Girl, We Grown Up In The Same Food”. Peng Liyuan is from Yuncheng, a county in the southwest of Shandong province, China. That means the owner is also from a small town in Shandong, which is really fascinating. I have not met that many Shandong owners, but his story all the way to Atlanta must be interesting. What’s even more interesting to me though, is the fact that he put that sentence on the menu as a way to entice customers. I strongly doubt most people in English Avenue know who Peng Liyuan is. And even if they did, I doubt that the “The Most Famous Chinese Singer and The Chinese First Lady” being the “Hometown Girl” of the owner is a strong incentive to make people eat at Lucky China 8. Clearly such a fact is a source of pride for Qian, so I didn’t want to press him on it.
When asked why he chose English Avenue to build his business, Qian’s answer was that the property was cheap, and the nearby housing was affordable for raising a family. I guess he barely had any money when he first immigrated here. Running a restaurant here wasn’t easy though. The customer base is almost completely Black. Fried dishes (fried shrimp, fried chicken, spring rolls) are top sellers and nothing like Shandong food. I asked him if had struggled adapting to making this kind of food at first. He said it’s just what you have to cook here to make it. He got used to it. Looking at the Google reviews, one might assume he’s still struggling though. I asked him about the 1.7 stars. He said he doesn’t look at that ever. There’s enough business to put food on the table, he says, so why would he care?
I asked him about the slot machines. Qian said they make very good money without any cost to operate the machines. About ten years ago, he noticed other small restaurants installing them and decided to follow. Especially after COVID-19, he said, the slot machines became essential for keeping the business afloat. I told Qian I had never seen another Chinese restaurant with slot machines. He responded that he never goes to any other Chinese restaurants in Atlanta or the suburbs.
I wondered if Qian was worried about crime, considering English Avenue and Vine City (the other neighborhood Lucky 8 is right next to) have some of the worst crime reputations in Atlanta. He didn’t seem worried. He said they have metal bars, glass, and a gun if needed. After decades of being here, it seems the rough environment had been normalized for him. He also implied that being a member of the community for so long offers some kind of insurance. He had never been robbed by gunpoint for money, but this hasn’t stopped theft. Often people would just run off with their food without paying. When asked if this was frustrating, he nonchalantly said that’s just a part of business. After so many years, it seems he had adapted to the rhythm of life here.
Despite the unusual circumstances of the restaurant (the rating, the reviews, the location, the owner, the slot machines, the appearance), Lucky China 8 has persisted for decades and will likely survive for a couple more. It is a tiny stronghold of fried rice, chicken wings, and flashing slot machines, stitched into one of Atlanta’s toughest corners. For Qian, maybe that’s what makes it “lucky” after all: survival for so long despite the odds stacked against him.
by Andrew S Wang