
Wanna meet people? An Asian supper club may be the answer
Young Asian Americans are building community the way they know best: through food
Jiaonest is a London-based supper club that brings Sichuan flavors, medicinal traditions, and storytelling together.
Courtesy of Jiaonest
Words by Aorui Pi
Supper clubs aren’t anything fancy or exclusive. In fact, the term refers to informal social dining establishments, and nowhere embraces this tradition quite like Wisconsin—with hundreds still operating across the United States’ dairyland, many in rural or small-town settings dating back to 1948.
Wisconsin supper clubs are known for their signature brandy Old Fashioned cocktails, locally sourced relish trays in place of salad, and iconic Friday night fish fries. Often family run for generations, these clubs serve as beloved gathering places for communities, with regulars stopping by almost daily. The atmosphere is relaxed, cozy, and inviting, designed to encourage guests to linger for hours over food, drinks, and in-house entertainment during a cold Midwest winter night.
This spirit of gathering, sharing and hanging around over a meal is also a deeply familiar concept in many cultures, particularly across Asia. From casual catch-ups with friends and colleagues, often sparked by a simple invitation to share a meal, to traditional family reunions during New Year celebrations, communal dining has long been at the heart of Asian life.
A Southeast Asian remedy for urban loneliness
Today, as members of the Asian diaspora build their lives in new cities around the world, supper clubs have emerged as a modern third space—intimate gatherings where food becomes a medium for storytelling, cross-cultural dialogue, and community building. One such space in New York City is Studio Bumi, offering an Indonesian twist designed to ease urban loneliness. “People come here every Friday night hoping for two things. One, for good food. Two, for seeing the same friends again.” says chef and founder Bagus Ruswandi.

Studio Bumi in New York City offers an Indonesian twist designed to ease urban loneliness.
Courtesy of Studio Bumi
After being laid off from a law firm in 2023, Ruswandi feared the weight of uncertainty would crush him. He had already left his legal career in Indonesia to pursue graduate studies in the United States, and now stood at a pivotal crossroads. Ruswandi channeled this energy into building a food experience that would not only bring people together, but also inspire them to create and collaborate, driven by his desire to “add value” to others. Many of the guests later returned as volunteers, eager to contribute and serve the next round of diners. That life-changing realization became the catalyst for creating Studio Bumi.
Ruswandi wouldn’t call himself a natural chef—he learned his techniques through TikTok and YouTube tutorials. But growing up around the kitchen, helping his family set the table and clean up after meals always brought him a sense of calm. “Communal dining is inherent in many cultures, but in Indonesian culture, we wait until everyone is seated, and we serve others first,” Ruswandi recalls. In his family, sharing a sit-down meal has always been cherished, especially with everyone’s busy work schedules. “We just have to make time for each other,” he says.
After collecting a growing number of kitchen gadgets and going through countless rounds of trial and error, Studio Bumi—which opened in late 2023—has since served more than 300 lunch set clients, hosted five communal dining events with more than 150 guests, and organized 30 community lunches. Most recently, Studio Bumi was invited to host a dinner at the Indonesian Consulate in New York City, an event that marked a meaningful milestone for a venture that began in a small apartment in Park Slope.
A spicy flare with a mindful tranquility
In January and all the way across the country on the West Coast, retired K-pop trainee Emma Xu took her first step toward building a mindful-eating supper club in the living room of her downtown Los Angeles apartment.
Navigating life during the pandemic was difficult for Xu. After a long battle with depression and anxiety, she found renewed purpose through Buddhism, and began crafting a unique dining experience that blends food, mindful games, and themed connections at Meow’s Social Club.
The name “Meow” is more than a quirky branding choice, it’s a metaphor for our emotional landscape. “We are soft, strong, and vulnerable,” Xu interprets, drawing on the wide spectrum of the feline family, from fierce tigers to gentle house cats.
Each evening typically begins with a guided meditation. Then comes the star of the show: food. There’s no elaborate design, no flashy plating, and no curated drink pairings—just food made in pots, brought straight to the table, ready to be shared. Xu’s menus bring together her signature bold Sichuan umami-spicy flavors, soothed with mild and heartwarming Korean dishes she perfected during her half decade living in South Korea. Xu explains, “I don’t make fine dining. People come here for the special twist they couldn’t find elsewhere.”
The consistently sold-out return rate is a testament to the space Xu is creating, a sanctuary, where, as she puts it, “no two nights are the same.” Guests are invited to write letters to themselves after the meal as part of a reflective, transformative experience that goes beyond just nourishing the body.
A medicinal blend
Sichuan cuisine’s influence doesn’t end in the United States. Across the Atlantic, chef Hua Yang, founder of Jiaonest, brings the Chongqing interpretation to London, leaning heavily into the numbing intensity of Sichuan peppercorns.
A Chongqing native, Yang grew up surrounded by rows of traditional Chinese medicine (TCM) cabinets in her family’s pharmacy. The distinct, earthy aromas of various herbs evoke a deep sense of nostalgia, one she now blends into her cooking that is popping up around London’s alleyways.

Jiaonest brings London's Chinese diaspora community together.
Courtesy of Jiaonest
With both Chongqing and London sharing a high-humidity climate, the peppercorn is more than just a flavor, it’s a key ingredient in Yang’s thoughtfully crafted menu. In TCM, it’s believed to help combat internal dampness, aligning culinary tradition with holistic well-being.
Moreover, her menus often feature herbs imported from China, like dihuang (rehmannia), danggui (angelica root), dangshen (codonopsis), and huangqi (astragalus), staples in TCM that now find new expression in her broths, marinades, and sauces. Throughout the courses, Yang invites guests to smell and handle the actual herbs, offering a hands-on opportunity to closely examine and better understand the healing ingredients they’re consuming in each dish. These immersive moments often spark conversations and are the most talked about of each dinner, something Yang had noticed distinguishes her guests in London from diners in China.
“Guests at private dining clubs in China rarely talk to each other,” Yang observes. “But here in London’s Chinese diaspora community, people are eager to connect and make friends in these settings.” She also saw the opportunity to offer a more authentic taste of home in a relaxed and unstructured setting to make every guest feel welcomed and at ease.
One staple dish Yang refuses to remove from her menu is yaoshan feichang, or medicinal pig intestine soup. Pig intestine is typically greasy and pungent, but the way a small, no-name restaurant in a quiet Sichuan town prepared it was unforgettable. Yang and her family had stumbled upon the place during a road trip when she was a kid, after taking a spontaneous detour off the highway. The restaurant paired the offal with medicinal herbs that mellowed the richness and eliminated the strong odor. The clear broth, infused with the earthy depth of shiitake mushrooms, revealed a layered umami flavor that lingered long after the last spoonful. Back in London, Yang experimented with the recipe countless times, finally crafting a version that blends flavor with storytelling, homesickness, and creative reinterpretation.

Chef Hua Yang, founder of Jiaonest, incorporates Sichuan peppercorns into her menus.
Courtesy of Jiaonest
In the hands of chefs like Yang, food becomes more than sustenance, it’s a bridge between memory and innovation, tradition and reinvention. These intimate dining experiences don’t just serve meals; they tell stories and lores passed down by generations. Whether hosted in tucked-away apartments, private houses, or secret pop-ups, these intimate dining experiences are redefining how Asian food is shared, celebrated, and reinvented beyond the mainland.
Published on May 29, 2025
Words by Aorui Pi
Aorui Pi is a bilingual journalist based in Los Angeles, California, covering international news, contemporary Asian cultures, and climate issues. Her work has appeared in a range of international outlets, including Rotten Mango Podcast, Initium Media, Radii, IJNet, PBS Frontline, and more. When she’s not reporting, Aorui enjoys following Formula 1 and hiking through national parks.