Second-generation Canadians weigh the cost of carrying on the family business – and their parents’ legacy

In the corner of her family’s downtown Toronto restaurant, Jeanette Liu’s young son eats a plate of chili chicken as customers gather around tables and servers bustle across the floor.

Her son spending the summer at Yueh Tung is “full circle” for Liu, whose own childhood memories are flooded with the sound of clattering dishes and the smell of her parents’ cooking in that very space for decades.

She also remembers her parents’ gruelling 15-hour days as they proudly served customers who lined up out the door, chasing what she describes as their “Canadian dream” after they moved to Toronto from India in the early 1980s.

“My dad worked seven days a week. He only took one day off during Christmas Day, only for the morning, and then he would go right back into work by himself to prep for the next day,” Liu recalled.

Yueh Tung quickly became a place where members of their community could enjoy traditional Chinese cooking with Indian flavours, she said.

Liu and her sister Joanna decided to fully inherit the restaurant six months ago, not only so their parents could retire but so they wouldn’t have to face the fallout of U.S. President Donald Trump’s tariffs, the rising cost of running a small business and changes in public dining habits. All of those factors have made it difficult to sustain their Canadian dream from decades ago, she said.

Amid the economic uncertainty, second-generation immigrant business owners like Liu say they’re grappling with how they can carry on their parents’ legacy – and what it could cost them.

“We didn’t want them to retire knowing that everything that they built and put all of their hard work into ended in this way,” Liu said.

“It’s really difficult. Rent has gone up, inventory has gone up, groceries have gone up and you can only increase your menu so much without having your customers get sticker shock.”

Alan Liu, who has no relation to Jeanette Liu, is the owner of Salad King, a Thai restaurant with two locations in Toronto’s downtown. His family moved to Canada from Hong Kong in 1990 in search of new opportunity, and his parents soon took ownership of the restaurant before passing it on to him in 2010.

Due to the impact of tariffs, Liu said his food costs over the past few months have gone up “much faster than we’ve ever seen.” He predicted his cost for chicken will likely go up by as much as 50 per cent by the end of summer.

“Looking at a second-generation business you kind of have to go, ‘OK, so this is what we’re good at. This is what we love doing and we’ve been doing this for 35 years. But the market is changing,’” he said.

“Is this a temporary change? Is this long-term change? And how are we going to survive beyond that?”

He prides himself on keeping the restaurant affordable for families and students but said in addition to tariff impacts, people’s eating habits have changed since the COVID-19 pandemic. More people are working from home and they are generally eating out less and reducing their spending, he said.

In the two decades his parents ran Salad King, he said they never experienced this level of economic precarity. They weathered recessions and even a partial building collapse the year he took over, he said, but nothing like this.

The whole thing has him feeling “punch drunk,” Liu said.

“It means you’ve been punched so many times in the head that you no longer feel anything. You’re basically perpetually stunned and perpetually in survival mode.”

Family-run restaurants aren’t the only ones feeling the pinch of the current economic climate.

Maria Cronk, who inherited a Kingston, Ont., boutique from her mother, said one of her suppliers has raised their prices because of tariffs and she expects to see others do so in the future.

“I think that our consumers are at their limits for what they want to pay,” Cronk said, speaking from the back storeroom of Fancy That. She also noted that some clothing lines have told her they don’t have production plans for next spring because they can’t afford it.

Cronk’s mother immigrated to Canada from Sweden in the early 1970s and opened the store. Cronk took over after her mother became ill, and now her own daughters have become involved.

Continuing a family business — and passing it on — means going through all sorts of ups and downs, said Cronk. But what makes it worth it, she said, is the hard work and love her family has poured into it.

“I’m so proud of what my mother started with and what I’ve been able to create on my own, even without her,” said Cronk. “It’s not about the money. It’s about building this community of people.”

Back at Yueh Tung, Jeanette Liu cashes out customers and wraps takeout orders, while her sister Joanna fires a wok in the kitchen and makes plates of noodles.

“I feel like my parents always just told me — and it’s very true of immigrant culture — you put your heads down and you work,” Liu said.

Just two months ago, the restaurant was on the brink of closure. They took to social media for “one last push,” and Yueh Tung has had more diners since, which she hopes will last.

Yueh Tung is not just a restaurant – it’s symbolic of their parents’ sacrifice and the community they found in Canada, Jeanette said.

“Carrying on the legacy was really the crux of everything having to do with us taking over the restaurant,” she said.

Yueh Tung has been the eighth member of their family, said Liu, who grew up with four siblings.

“My hope is that when I bring my dad back in, when my mom comes back in to dine as guests, they will be able to really sit and feel everything that they put into this restaurant and receive it back.”

This report by The Canadian Press was first published July 4, 2025.

Rianna Lim, The Canadian Press