Consumers are not inherently opposed to central kitchens or pre-made processes; what they resist is brands leveraging information asymmetry to sell an inauthentic "artisan illusion" at a high price. Recently, the premium noodle restaurant brand Hefu Noodle has once again been swept into a whirlpool of public opinion. Multiple consumers have reported that at stores with a per-customer ticket of 30-40 yuan, the toppings and soup base are actually bagged, pre-prepared ingredients. Staff merely need to complete a three-step process—"boil noodles + open package + reheat"—to serve the meal. This stands in stark contrast to the brand's long-standing marketing claims of "artisan slow-simmering," "herbal wellness," and "freshly wok-fried toppings." In response to consumer skepticism, Hefu emphasized that its meals are uniformly produced and distributed by a central kitchen and do not fall under the category of "pre-made dishes." However, this response has failed to quell the controversy. This is not the first time Hefu has faced criticism over "pre-made" issues. From the "tearing open seasoning packets" incident in 2024 to recently trending on social media again, the core of the dispute has transcended mere definitional debates about "pre-made dishes." It points directly to a more fundamental problem: the vast chasm between the carefully constructed "experience" of brands and the industrialized, standardized "reality" within the wave of restaurant chain expansion and capitalization, along with the ensuing crisis of consumer trust. Consumers are not inherently opposed to central kitchens or pre-made processes; what they resist is brands leveraging information asymmetry to sell an inauthentic "artisan illusion" at a high price. Hefu Noodle's predicament is not merely a contradiction of a single brand's positioning and model; it is a collective interrogation that the entire "new consumption" dining sector must confront head-on, following the ebb of capital and the return of consumer rationality.
When "Study Room Wellness" Collides with "Assembly Line Unpacking" The rise of Hefu Noodle perfectly aligned with the narrative logic of consumption upgrading in previous years. Bolstered by capital, it carved a unique niche with the tagline "wellness noodles in a study room," elevating a bowl of noodles from a street-side fast food item to a "affordable luxury" consumption experience imbued with cultural and health attributes. Australian wheat core flour, premium pork cartilage, slow-simmered herbal broth, freshly wok-fried toppings… These meticulously crafted marketing phrases, combined with the rustic and elegant dining ambiance, collectively built a high-end promise centered on quality, time, and craftsmanship. Consumers paying a premium of 30-40 yuan or more were purchasing not just a bowl of filling noodles, but also an experience and expectation of a "better" lifestyle. However, the reality of back kitchens piled with plastic bags and the assembly-line operation of "two-minute service" shattered this carefully constructed illusion. Consumers discovered that the core value propositions justifying the high price—"simmered on-site" and "fried on-site"—were largely absent from most steps of the process. The so-called "artisanship" was reduced to the act of tearing open pre-made ingredient packs; the so-called "wellness" was built upon a foundation of industrial compound seasonings. This "disconnect" between marketing and reality inevitably leaves some consumers feeling deceived and betrayed. The primary source of consumer dissatisfaction is not necessarily "central kitchens" or "standardized production" themselves. In fast-paced urban life, efficient, safe, and consistently flavored chain restaurants hold significant value. The problem lies in Hefu Noodle's attempt to walk a tightrope between an industrialized model focused on "maximizing efficiency" and a high-end experience narrative centered on "maximizing perceived value," hoping consumers would pay for the latter while leaning towards the former in practice. This leads to an inherent paradox in its business model: on one hand, it must rely on highly standardized central kitchens and pre-made processes to achieve rapid replication and cost control, satisfying capital's appetite for expansion speed and profitability; on the other hand, it must continually reinforce anti-industrial, anti-efficiency labels like "slow," "artisanal," and "wellness" to support the high price premium. When the latter is revealed to be the "emperor's new clothes" for the former, a collapse of trust becomes inevitable. The shattering of this "value illusion" is the core of Hefu Noodle's current predicament. It exposes a common trap in the "new consumption" wave: relying on marketing and scene-setting to create added value, while neglecting the solid construction and authentic communication of the product's own core value. As the economic environment shifts and consumers tighten their purse strings, returning to rationality, superficial "stories" become vulnerable under scrutiny of "value for money."
The Game of Definitions and Lack of Transparency: Who Holds the Power of Discourse? Facing controversy, Hefu Noodle defended itself by citing the argument that "central kitchen distribution does not constitute pre-made dishes." This sparked a debate over the definitional boundaries of "pre-made dishes." From regulatory and industry technical perspectives, excluding meals uniformly made in a central kitchen, delivered to stores, and reheated from a narrow definition of "pre-made dishes" might have some basis in standards. However, in the ordinary consumer's straightforward understanding, the opposite of "pre-made" is "made fresh." If core flavor elements (soup, toppings) are not processed from raw ingredients in the back kitchen but exist as pre-packaged semi-finished products, simply requiring reheating before serving, that aligns with their conception of "pre-made." The essence of this debate is not merely about food safety or technical routes; it also involves the right to know and the right to choose. A company emphasizing its compliance does not actually address the consumer's most pressing question about truth: For the over 30 yuan I spent, how much genuine "on-site cooking" did I actually get? Hefu Noodle's advertising uses dynamic, evocative verbs like "simmer" and "wok-fry," but is it "simmered slowly in-store for eight hours," or "simmered in a central kitchen and delivered via cold chain"? Is it "chefs wok-frying over high flames on-site," or "tearing open a packet and heating it in a water bath"? This semantic ambiguity is the root cause of consumers feeling "cheated." As commentary has pointed out, wise enterprises should not attempt to "educate consumers" to accept their definitions, but should instead consider how to meet consumers' need for knowledge more transparently and honestly. Trust in dining is built on openness and transparency. When images of plastic bags in the back kitchen are exposed on social media, becoming an open secret, any defense based on terminological distinctions appears weak and unconvincing. What is growing among consumers is a thirst for information symmetry. They need clear labeling; they need to understand where the food they eat comes from and how it is made. Whether it's "central kitchen distribution" or "third-party pre-made," clear communication, returning the choice to the consumer, is the correct path to building long-term trust. From the previous controversy over Xibei's pre-made dishes to the current Hefu dispute, a warning is issued to all restaurant brands: in the era of consumer sovereignty, honesty is the best communication, and transparency is the strongest招牌 (signboard).
How Can Premium Noodle Shops Navigate the Cycle? The "pre-made noodles" controversy surrounding Hefu Noodle, while superficially a misalignment between marketing and reality, deeply reflects the model and growth anxieties faced by it and the entire premium noodle shop sector. Firstly, there is the issue of cost structure and value support. Over sixty percent of Hefu Noodle's stores are located in core business districts of tier-one and new tier-one cities, bearing high rents and operating costs. Simultaneously, to meet capital's expectations for growth and efficiency, it must pursue standardization and chain expansion, which inevitably relies on central kitchens and pre-made processes to ensure consistent output and rapid scaling. However, its positioning as "premium and wellness-oriented" demands higher costs for raw materials, process complexity, and in-store experience to justify the high price premium. Under real profit pressure, the brand chose to maximize efficiency on the operational side (central kitchen prepping) while continuing to maintain the high-value image promise on the marketing side. This "contortion" results in insufficient perceived value for consumers. Secondly, there is the issue of capital-driven expansion. Hefu Noodle was once a darling of capital, with its valuation soaring to as high as 7 billion yuan at one point. Capital needs stories and scale, so the differentiated narrative of "wellness noodles in a study room" and rapid store openings became the core logic. However, the essence of the restaurant business ultimately lies in "genuine goods at fair prices" for daily consumption. As the capital frenzy subsides and consumption becomes more rational, models overly reliant on capital narratives but lacking a solid foundation in mass-market affordability reveal their fragility. Years of losses, slower-than-expected store expansion, and executive departures all attest to these difficulties. Facing challenges, Hefu Noodle has not been without attempts to change. Proactively reducing prices by 30% and launching lower-priced product lines are signals of compromise towards the mass market; opening up to "company-owned + partnership" models is an attempt to leverage social capital to ease funding pressures for expansion; incubating sub-brands like Alan's Home (handmade, fresh preparation), Hefu Master Noodles (daily fresh simmering), and even the latest "Hefu Soup Noodles" (toppings freshly fried, rich soup freshly simmered) are proactive attempts to capture the "freshly made" trend and repair the "artisanal" image. These measures show the brand is aware of the problems and is striving to find a new balance between standardized efficiency and in-store experiential value. However, the fundamental way forward may lie in completely re-prioritizing the business logic. For dining brands aspiring to a premium or quality positioning, the authenticity of the experience must be placed above expansion efficiency. This could mean: either fully embracing industrialization, clearly marking prices, and offering safe, stable, convenient standardized products at reasonable prices, abandoning the unrealistic narrative of "premium artisanship"; or genuinely returning to the core of "fresh preparation," strictly limiting the central kitchen's pre-made role to non-core preliminary processing, while bringing the key steps that determine flavor and experience (like simmering soup, frying toppings) back to the store level as much as possible. Even if this limits expansion speed and increases operating costs, it can yield solid value support and brand trust.
Conclusion The restaurant industry is undergoing a profound return to basics. Consumers are no longer blindly paying for虚幻的概念 (illusory concepts) and excessively packaged scenes; they are becoming increasingly savvy, focusing more on the true value of the product itself. The controversy surrounding Hefu Noodle serves as a wake-up call. It reminds all restaurant brands, especially those once elevated by capital: no matter how compelling the story, everything ultimately returns to the fundamental duty of the product. Dismantling the high walls of information, bridging the chasm between advertising and the back kitchen, and treating consumers with sincerity rather than rhetoric are the only reliable methods to navigate cycles and win hearts. The competition in dining will ultimately return to a reverence for and steadfast adherence to the true heart of "food."
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