Inside a San Francisco shop keeping the fortune cookie alive
After a meal at many Chinese restaurants in the United States, a fortune cookie arrives with the check. Diners crack it open to find a message inside — lucky numbers, a line of encouragement, or a quiet prediction of what lies ahead.
The slip of paper turns the cookie into something more than dessert, a brief pause between courses where curiosity lingers and conversation begins.
Surprisingly, fortune cookies are not originally Chinese. They trace back to Japanese-style crackers brought to the United States by immigrants in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, according to the History Channel. After World War II, Chinese American entrepreneurs took over production and popularized the cookies in Chinese restaurants nationwide.
Despite their origins, fortune cookies became widely seen as a symbol of Chinese culture, often reinforcing stereotypes. Cultural critic Jennifer 8. Lee notes that while the cookies are distinctly American, their global spread has helped cement misconceptions. Still, the fortune cookie remains deeply embedded in American culture, evolving into a quirky yet enduring icon tied to dining, celebration and even romance.
"Although it's an American invention, although it's a San Francisco invention … we the Chinese, (are) the one that perfect it. We promote it throughout the world. So everybody thinks of fortune cookies, they think of Chinese food," said Kevin Chan, owner of San Francisco's Golden Gate Fortune Cookie Factory.
To Chan, the cultural meanings of his Chinese identity are deeply embedded in his work.
"I think fortune cookies are not just cookies. It's also a meditation. It's also a symbol. And also, it represents Chinese. And I feel very proud because I'm a Chinese-American, and we work very hard, and we need to be well-recognized. Because everybody has fortune cookies, they have to come to me. So that's kind of my success, being a fortune cookie maker."
Outside his store, a line stretches down the narrow alley, drawing people of all ages and backgrounds.
The storefront is small, yet unmistakably present. Above the entrance hangs a weathered gold sign reading "Golden Gate Fortune Cookie Factory," where Chinese and English lettering intertwine. It carries a sense of age, but not decay — rather, it feels gently burnished by time.
A small awning with traditional Chinese upturned eaves frames the entrance, its corners lifting slightly as if in a subtle gesture. Beneath it hang lanterns, vivid against the muted tones of the alley, like warm pulses of color that bring the facade to life.
The door, a combination of black metal framing and glass, has a faint industrial edge, but it doesn't feel cold. Through the glass, glimpses of movement and rows of cookies reveal themselves — like a workshop half-hidden in plain sight.
According to Chan, the shop has been operating for more than six decades. He affectionately refers to it as a "little museum" and an "institution."
Inside, ceramic figurines of deities, laughing Buddhas and weathered human figures sit shoulder to shoulder, their expressions suspended somewhere between solemnity and play. Some appear traditional, others almost whimsical — like characters from different stories gathered on a single shelf, offering glimpses of old Chinese folklore. Surrounding them are murals of the store, along with numerous awards, old photographs and other mementos collected over the years.
Workers sit beside large, old-fashioned machines, crafting each fortune cookie by folding the wafer fresh off the press, slipping in a small message, and shaping it into its signature form. The shop offers a variety of flavors and colors, some finished with icing decorations.
While many fortune cookies today are mass-produced by machines, the shop continues to preserve traditional handcrafting techniques.
The factory produces up to 10,000 cookies a day, Chan said, adding that he hopes to pass this legacy on to future generations."
"I want to keep the Golden Gate Fortune Cookie alive because I want to see the next generation to see what's going on. I want them to see the history and I want them to see how fortune cookies are made by hand before," he added.
Fortune cookies, for many Americans, are more than just a sweet treat.
Stephanie Froebel from Buffalo, New York, told China Daily, "Growing up, we'd have nights where my mom would come, bring home some local Chinese food from the stores, and then you have the fortune cookie at the end, and then that's like the finishing of the meal. You read each other's fortunes to the family, and then just have that moment together."
For Brazilian Alexandre Pranckevicius, who now lives in Miami, Florida, the fortune itself is "always an exciting part."
"I'm always an advocate for a food experience where you're able to have more than just experiencing the food itself and there's an extra aspect to it," he said.
Adniel Almaguel, a Cuban from Puerto Rico, said fortune cookies immediately remind him of Chinese restaurants and Chinese culture, adding that, to his knowledge, they have become a global phenomenon.
"Every time I open up (a fortune cookie), I read mine. I switch with my kids. We enjoy reading to see what fortune you're going to get … Sometimes they make me feel pretty hopeful and it's a good touch to my day."
Chan said the shop also offers custom-made fortune cookies, allowing customers to insert their own messages or even a ring, calling the experience "very romantic" as it has created many special memories for visitors.
But the shop is not only a place for customers' memories. For Chan, each encounter leaves a lasting impression as people from around the world step into his small space.
"Fortune cookies gave me a lot about my life, because this motivated me to see different culture, different people from around the world. They come here and share their experience, share their thoughts. Every time a customer comes from different countries, I feel very happy, because that's the only time I see them."
Chelsea Ge also contributed to this article.



























