Rachel Au: Reclaiming Community Through Food

In 2023, Rachel Au packed her life into three suitcases and flew to Vancouver to escape the predictable rhythm of agency life in Hong Kong. A year later, she was home. The slower West Coast pace had given her space to think, but it also made clear how much she missed the ambition and energy of her hometown. Rachel returned with a clearer perspective of what she wanted from work and from herself, and set about building something of her own. Today, she has built a growing community in the city through food gatherings founded on shared bakes, proving that the simplest way to bring people together is breaking bread.

Facing Burnout

Growing up in Hong Kong, Rachel never pictured herself organizing communities. Like many of her peers, she assumed a conventional corporate path. "To be honest, I didn't really have a clear idea of what I was going to be growing up," she says. "Most likely someone working a corporate desk job like everybody else." In many ways that prediction held: she still works full-time in marketing. Baking had been a childhood hobby, but community organizing was something she barely knew existed.

Years of executing campaigns for clients left her restless. The work rarely felt personal, and the daily routine made her reflect on what she actually wanted out of her career. "I didn't want to help brands sell things I didn't care about," she explains. "I wanted more variety in my career than just a desk job."

The Canadian Reset

The move to Canada was meant to reset that. She wanted different perspectives on work and life balance. Vancouver delivered a sharp contrast to Hong Kong's relentless drive. "Canadians are definitely more laid back, people on the west coast even more so," she says. Most people she met in Vancouver were content with a steady routine: working nine to five, volleyball after work, weekends spent hiking or skiing. "Their entire lives would essentially be laid out in front of them." She respected that sense of contentment, but it wasn't enough. "I want to do more cool, exciting things outside of a full time job, and want to be surrounded by people who are hungry to do more," she says.

The contrast in lifestyles also forced her to separate her sense of self from her job title. "Being in Canada solidified my belief that there is more to life than just a job, and that people are more than their careers," she notes. In Hong Kong, she observed, many treat their work as their primary identity. Canadians, by contrast, often treat it as only a fraction of who they are. These days, when she meets someone new back home, she tries to learn about their interests and values rather than opening with the usual "What do you do?"

Still, the quieter life never quite stuck. "I couldn't see myself living in Canada long term, and realized that I missed and valued the energy and excitement Hong Kong offers," she says. Recognizing how deeply her environment shaped her, she wanted to be surrounded again by the drive and entrepreneurial spirit of Hong Kongers.

Socializing over Sourdough

Back in the city, an invitation to a Cake Social planted the idea. "I had a selfish desire to find the best sourdough in Hong Kong," Rachel admits. "Honestly I just wanted to be surrounded by a huge variety of sourdough and eat my way through it." Organizing the event, she quickly discovered, meant she barely got to taste any. After one gathering she managed only a small plate of dry, crusty bread that friends had saved for her once the room had cleared.

Running events in Hong Kong means learning into the city's natural pace. Projects move quickly from concept to execution. "The way I plan and launch these socials is truthfully more of a sprint than a marathon," she explains. Planning starts slowly, then intensifies in the two or three weeks before the date. "Hong Kong makes this easy, as Hong Kongers are efficient and conducive to this way of working."

It also means accounting for local habits. "You have to make sure people get something tangible for the money they paid – Hong Kongers need VALUE," she observes. Lateness is almost guaranteed; most people arrive five to ten minutes after the stated start time. "Nobody wants to be the first to a party or event."

Carbs over Cocktails

Rather than another night of networking and drinks, Rachel chose baked goods as the central focus. The choice was practical, as it lowered the barrier for genuine interaction. "Not everyone drinks, Gen Zs even less so," she points out. A shared slice of bread or a cookie gives strangers an immediate topic: favorite bakeries, tried-and-true recipes, future bakes. "Food is just less intimidating than drinks in general."

While youth loneliness remains a growing concern across the city, she resists framing the events as social projects. "Honestly, it wasn't that deep," she says. "I just wanted to create an event where people could have fun." Still, she finds it heartwarming when strangers become friends. A group of women who met at her Cookie Social now have their own chat and hang out regularly. "It's proof that my events actually created real, lasting connections."

The practical lessons arrived quickly. After the Bread Social, she learned the hard way that food runs out and latecomers can leave empty-handed. For the next event, she made punctuality expectations clear on the page and stopped allowing leftover packing until the gathering officially ended.

Letting Joy Lead

As she looks ahead, Rachel is keeping her focus light rather than weighing herself down with rigid long-term plans. Her approach to the coming year remains straightforward: making time for the projects and activities that bring genuine joy.