For centuries, Chinese cuisine was a gatekept world where old masters hoarded knowledge, passing down recipes only to those deemed worthy – or taking them to the grave. Celebrated Cantonese dishes, such as Mythical Crane and Magical Needle, stuffed crab shell and Gold Coin Chicken, were among them.Known as heritage “kung fu” dishes, these labour-intensive classics once defined Hong Kong’s kitchens. Now, the ageing masters are retiring, machines are replacing the apprentices who never got trained and there is no one left to continue the craft.Well, almost no one. A handful of Hong Kong chefs have made it their mission to pass down their knowledge of traditional recipes, holding nothing back. Silas Li Mung-sheung, of Hong Kong Cuisine 1983, in Happy Valley, is one of them. “No secrets,” he insists. Having trained in both Western and Chinese cuisine and worked as a private chef for Hong Kong tycoon Dickson Poon for more than two decades, Li – who has 30-plus years of experience – describes gatekeeping culture as the main problem affecting the quality of Chinese restaurants.Chef Silas Li serves Hong Kong Cuisine 1983’s version of Mythical Crane and Magical Needle, where instead of shark fin, the pigeon is stuffed with ingredients from Buddha Jumps Over the Wall. Photo: Alexander Mak“Chinese cuisine is a lot less about following a recipe compared with Western cuisine. Apprenticeship is key to learning the ‘sixth sense’ of cooking – that’s why I always pass down all my tips and tricks, with no reservations,” he says.Li is true to his word. When he taught his head chef, Cho Heung-man, the classic Fujian dish Buddha Jumps Over the Wall, he recalled his apprentice’s surprise at the addition of Shaoxing wine as a key ingredient. Other masters Cho had followed simply never told him.Originating in Fuzhou during the Qing dynasty, Buddha Jumps Over the Wall is a famously difficult dish to master. Legend has it that a travelling scholar preserved his provisions for a long journey inside a clay wine jar. When the aroma of his food wafted to a nearby Buddhist monastery, a vegetarian monk was so tempted by the rich, meaty scent that he climbed over the wall to find its source. When he discovered the scholar and the jar, he declared the dish so delicious that even Buddha would jump over the wall for it.Left: Silas Li stuffs pigeon with Buddha Jumps Over the Wall ingredients. Right: Hong Kong Cuisine 1983’s Buddha Jumps Over the Wall. Photo: Alexander MakBuddha Jumps Over the Wall entered the lexicon of Cantonese cuisine between the 1920s and 30s, when wealthy Fujian merchants and displaced chefs migrated to Guangzhou and Hong Kong, thus introducing the luxurious stew to local banquet restaurants.