Dim sum pioneer honored
Owner of Great Wall Cusine helped pioneer the dim sum scene in Phoenix
Ming Luk ran Great Wall Cuisine in Phoenix for 25 years. When he died in January, he was remembered as a pioneer in the Valley’s restaurant scene who mentored new business owners and started offering dim sum at a time when it was uncommon.
For around 25 years, Ming Luk ran Great Wall Cuisine in Phoenix, a Cantonese banquet restaurant located near the northeast corner of 35th Avenue and Camelback Road. Family described him as a pioneer in the Valley’s Chinese restaurant scene, a man who mentored new business owners and started offering dim sum at a time when it was uncommon in the Valley. ● Even after he retired in 2017, Luk would often still visit Great Wall, standing in his favorite spot to watch the day unfold, as the morning dim sum guests turned into the evening dinner crowd. ● When he died, local Chinese-language newspapers published an outpouring of testimonials from his friends and former employees who wanted to pay their respects. ● On Jan. 24, 2021, Ming Luk died from a mix of health complications. He was 83 years old, the paper reported — his age based on the Chinese calendar. He leaves behind his wife, Judy and their four children Angela, Anne, Alma and Grant.
‘It wasn’t glamorous to him. It was more like, be humble’
Ming and Judy became high school sweethearts in Hong Kong. Judy described him as a shy teenager who got her attention through his kind heart and his dance moves. After school, their group of friends would go to clubs where Ming taught Judy how to ballroom dance — tango, foxtrot, samba. They carried these moves with them all the way to Phoenix, where they used to glide hand in hand on the dance floor at Great Wall.
In return, Judy taught him how to sing popular Mandarin and Cantonese ballads. On ferry trips between Hong Kong’s small islands, Judy would sing to him quietly under her breath, teaching him the lyrics.
Judy worked as a teacher and Ming in commercial printing before moving to San Francisco in 1977, then to the Phoenix area about a year later for the warmer weather.
When they arrived, Judy and Ming worked at Golden Coin Chinese Buffet, a restaurant in Mesa. At first, Ming tried to learn how to cook, but was better suited at interacting with customers.
“He gave a valiant effort, but cooking was just not his thing,” their daughter Anne said. “He did try, but let’s just say he was not a natural cook.”
Over the years, the couple operated several small Chinese restaurants and markets scattered across Phoenix, Avondale, Peoria and Sun City, including buffets and takeout shops. All their children, Angela and Anne in particular, grew up in the restaurants and had to pitch in with the family businesses.
“I felt like we were all in together, no matter what,” Anne said. “Wrapping egg rolls, peeling the shrimp, it was all hands on deck ... I think my dad’s philosophy was like, if you’re an owner and someone doesn’t show up to work, you might be washing dishes. It wasn’t glamorous to him. It was more like, be humble about things.”
The Luk family ran
‘the Grand Central station of the Asian community’
Great Wall Cuisine served mostly American Chinese food until the Luk family took over, reopening the restaurant in June 1992 as a banquet hall that served dim sum and traditional Cantonese cuisine.
While the Luk family kept the restaurant’s name in English, they changed the Chinese name to one that means
“Six Fortune.” Six refers to the number of people in the Luk family and also plays on their last name: The word “six” in Cantonese is “luk.”
Her parents wanted to “shine fortune on the family,” Anne explained. The Chinese name appears in gold lettering on the wall above “Great Wall Cuisine” when entering the restaurant.
At the time there was only one other banquet hall in Phoenix offering dim sum, China Doll, a restaurant the Luk family frequented. Once at Great Wall, Ming hired specially trained chefs from California.
Dim sum is a specialty that chefs would normally take an apprenticeship for — the dim sum chefs and wok chefs held separate stations, each a master of their particular art, Anne explained.
Judy said financially, the first two years were the hardest as she and her husband worked long hours without paying themselves. It was like running three different types of restaurants under one roof: dim sum, dinner and banquet, she said.
Anne described her father as an artistic man. He wrote the restaurant’s banquet event menus by hand because his Chinese writing looked almost like calligraphy.
At Great Wall, they watched families celebrate newborn babies. They watched children grow up and go through life’s successes, then return to throw their wedding banquets.
“I used to joke growing up, I felt like it was the Grand Central station of the Asian community,” Anne said.
They saw Grand Canyon University getting built, which brought some students into the restaurant. Foreign exchange students from across the state also came, looking for a place that reminded them of home, Judy recalled. Some of the restaurant’s decor changed, the clientele expanded beyond the Asian community and though Ming never wanted to retire, his family finally convinced him to when he was in his late 70s.
‘He liked the simple things’
Ming was thoughtful about how he spoke with people and wasn’t one to talk for the sake of talking, his family described.
“He was more silent, but when he said something, they were words of wisdom. Just little life lessons here and there,” Anne said. “Like in interactions, person to person, don’t always worry about getting the benefit. That’s how you maintain happiness. If you always compare, you’re not going to be happy.”
But he also had a playful side. When his children were young, they would tunnel under his bed comforter after he came home from work. Every so often he would slyly suggest to his children they “pull a prank on mom.”
After years of long hours at the restaurant, his family encouraged Ming to indulge a little. He delighted in trying new foods and appreciated a good glass of wine or whiskey. He enjoyed traveling, sightseeing and soaking up the history of places and people. He looked for beauty in the quiet moments.
Once, on a family trip to Boracay in the Philippines, Ming woke up the earliest and sat at the balcony with a piece of toast and coffee. When Anne got up, he beckoned her over with excitement.
“Look at the waterline, look how beautiful the waterline is,” he told her, his voice full of wonder. “I’ve been sitting out here for two hours just staring at the waterline.”
“Those things made him happy,” Anne said, recalling this memory. “Just to sit and enjoy the breeze … He liked the simple things.”
If her father could have one more day on Earth, she knows what he’d ask for: one more meal with the whole family.