Let it be known that Jenny Tian loves her some Hainanese chicken rice, some classic char siu, and a bit of har gau while you're at it.
"I haven't had proper Asian food here yet," the Australian comedian confesses, as she sits down to enjoy a meal in Three Uncles' St. Paul's branch. The chain is well known for their Cantonese roast meats, and Jenny is getting to enjoy some of the best The Big Smoke has to offer.
She's been out and about in the UK for quite some time, making her debut at the world-famous Edinbrugh Fringe Festival and performing a series of shows in the capital. For a comedian who a mere few years ago was wondering if people even resonated with her voice, the glow up should make all sit up and take note.
And many have. With droves of followers across all her platforms, her quick-witted quips and clever set ups suit TikTok, YouTube Shorts and Instagram Reels perfectly, and linger rent-free in the mind long after being watched. They often connect to the weirdly beautiful and banal occurrences that the ordinary joe might experience in their daily lives, making them a comforting and often cathartic watch.
Even when simply chatting to her, one can see how she effortlessly picks up on the absurd in the world around her as inspiration for her work. For example: she's fascinated by the sheer diversity of the supermarkets in the UK, something we chat about twice before her final UK show.
"I'm going to make a TikTok about this," she says (she does). "You have the option to shop at Lidl and Asda and you can [afford to] live even if you don't earn a lot."
If there was any proof that Jenny Tian can make the banal sound like the most interesting, riveting saga you've ever heard, one needed to look no further than her subsequent explanation to me about the Australian supermarket duopoly. Between the different chains, their colluding together to raise the prices (her words), and their machinations and tactics culminating in a commercial rollercoaster stresses out the everyday Australian, it's easy to believe that Jenny could genuinely write a Hollywood movie about absolutely anything.
Her own story is riveting in and of itself.
Whilst she is proudly Australian, she was, in fact, born in Finland - she can't remember any Finnish though: "not a single thing" - to Chinese parents, who moved to the Nordic state when her father received a scholarship to a university there. Three years after she was born, the family upped sticks again to Australia. Even the cause for that final move was not entirely conventional.
"... being around that much nature," she says, speaking of her mother's time in Finland. "She was not used to it. My mother would have these allergies and they were like, 'we've got to move. We can't take these allergies.' I don't know why she didn't just take an allergy pill or whatever, but anyway, then they moved again and originally they thought Australia was going to be a pit stop. They were thinking more Canada, America... but then they were like, 'it's sunny here. People are nice. Let's stay here.'"
It is to all our benefits that they did, as Jenny's outlook on having Chinese heritage and Australian nationality is the ground zero upon which her show Chinese Australian is built. Whilst being both Chinese and Australian is not just all she talks about, she deftly handles the nuances, difficulties and points of understanding that only someone uniquely in her position can.
Another case in point: a particularly popular joke of hers, one that reflects upon the struggles of learning to write numbers in Chinese characters, does so without punching down.
"Of course, it talks about the Chinese language," she says, breaking it down further in between bites of food. "But the real joke is about things being modular, and about it not being logical, rather than it being, 'oh, you have to get this part of Asian culture to understand,' I try to make these jokes accessible to everyone."
This happens in the wild during her last show in London, where an audience member mentions that she has travelled all the way from Shanghai just to watch Jenny perform.
"No pressure!" she jokes; and of course, one could look at the layers there. How sometimes the people who are the most judgemental or least forgiving are those from the same background as you, no matter the diaspora; or how a large proportion of Asian children can identify with crushing pressure to perform and excel from those around you, or how of all the places the audience member could have come from, it's from the country of Jenny's heritage... but at the end of the day, it's also a joke and a laugh about how someone has travelled halfway around the world to watch a comedian they enjoy.
All in all, it's this grounded, relatable humour that drew people in their droves to Jenny's socials, where the majority of her comedy is on display to those not able to catch a show. This growing audience from around the world landed her a spot on Taskmaster Australia, the spinoff of hit UK show, Taskmaster. As one of the five comedians handpicked for Season 2, her moments on the show have likewise gone viral for her top notch delivery.
Long past are the days where she hid her comedy work from her family, only confessing what she was up to when her mother thought her absences could be explained by a non-existent secret boyfriend. Even then, her parents took a hot second to understand precisely what stand up is, as there is no direct comparison in China. "The only thing similar in China is 'talk show'," Jenny says.
These days, her comedy gets translated into Chinese (and many other languages besides) for fans to enjoy. Again, a far cry from the student who once saw Ronny Chieng perform at her university and wondered if stand up was something she could do.
"Especially in the arts kind of world, it's never a straight line," she reflects. "People really do come up with their own definitions of how they cope with failure and how they cope with struggle and that kind of thing, you know? When I went to like acting classes and stuff, my acting teachers would take mindset classes from sports coaches.
I feel like you need like a really strong mindset. Otherwise it's just like, it's too tough and you don't you don't know where the end is. And you have to, like, be able to figure out what makes you happy along the way as well. Yeah, there's a lot of that. To be able to walk away and stuff."
On the surface, comedy appears to be one of those fields where age is not a barrier to success; if anything, a lack of life experience can often be less, rather than more, helpful when it comes to developing a great set. Yet, hearing Jenny speak about her many doubts around her path long before she hit it big, it's clear how even in her field, the social media push towards youth can get in one's head.
"I think in general in our culture, [there is] just an obsession with youth, like in music... in comedy as well," she muses. "It's how some comedians got so big as well, starting stand up when they were teenagers. But you can have a really good career even starting in your 30s. I think overall it's like, I just think we all have an unhealthy obsession with being young."
For a while, we talk about the Jennette McCurdy book I'm Glad My Mom Died, and how that led to Jenny's own personal reflections on the lives of other child stars whose struggles and tribulations were disrespectfully and unceremoniously splashed on the front pages of tabloids and gossip websites. It's part of a bigger picture around how measured the comedian seems to be around her own growing success and popularity, as well as her awareness around the impact her own content has. Would she have dealt with this kind of fame well, if she had hit it big even a decade earlier?
"Absolutely not!" she exclaims. "I feel like the people that do well are the people that really know themselves and what they want, not [the kids] pushed around by their mum or the industry. You have to know who you are and what you enjoy before tackling something that big.
I mean, what happens with a lot of comedians is that they're young and it's exciting when they're young and all their jokes are about being young, but then they grow up and then they have nothing to say. Because all their jokes are about being young and they're not young anymore. Then all they've known is comedy in their whole life, so they don't know what it's like to live like a normal person. Then after that a lot of them still [carry] on, but it's like... they never quite pop up the same as when they are young, and they know that as well. So, I think it's tougher to start when you're younger because you don't know who you are."
In her signature jumpsuits, dungarees and poppy colours, Jenny Tian is now very much her own distinct comedic voice, something that has come from years of crafting each show meticulously. She refers to several different comedians as inspirations, from Demetri Martin to Ali Wong, before bringing up Taylor Swift.
"I've always looked up to Taylor Swift," she says, and compares how she puts together each of her own hours of comedy much like Swift crafts an album.
"It's like when she releases 1989 and that's like the New York album and it's very New York and it's about her and her friends and like being in her 20s. Then the album afterwards is reputation and it's a bit harder and she goes a bit more into rock and roll, that sort of stuff. And each album is an exploration of her artistry and where you are in your life.
That's kind of how I see the hours of my comedy. So it's like... my first album was: these are the stories from my life, and this is who I am and this is my identity. Then the next hour, which is the one I'm doing now, is like, okay, this is my online fame, this unashamed influencer life, and it's a lot more tech heavy, and it's got like a sketch in it and it's just a little bit more experimental. Then my next hour is going to be like stripped back. It's just going to be stand up, no screen, no special effects or anything."
The concept of a fully stripped back show from the woman who put 'Share to your story: Jenny Tian's bucket hat is the best hat in the world. I cried at the sight of its beauty,' on the screen for her audience to see, sounds incredibly intriguing. Chinese Australian sees Jenny craft jokes from memes she's made from other memes and riffing off viral moments in the social media world. It's a unique and hilarious experience that, whilst reflecting on her own fame, also forces you to confront your own consumption online and exactly how and why you've perpetuated the algorithm.
Even in her previous work, she allows the screens to aid her punchlines and also show just how much she's prepped a joke. These are performances that - whilst they can connect with anyone of any age - are crafted to hit with younger audiences whose only experiences with stand up might be their mum or dad watching a special on Netflix.
With that in mind, Jenny mentions that she'll find herself in New York in 2025, with hopefully a stop in Los Angeles at some point too. Whilst her dream is to do the Comedy Cellar in New York City one day, her foray this year to the UK and, soon, the USA, is a sign of just how much demand in her is growing. Luckily, there are many supportive comedians in the field, especially regarding other female comedians. We talk for a while about even the biggest comedy clubs not booking women, and she muses on other female comedians speaking out about these issues, as well as research that shows how scarce women on lineups still is.
"Because of that there's a culture fostered in the comedy clubs where it's like, all the men are friends with each other and they get to know the bookers more so it's harder for women to enter because of that," she reflects. "But then, there's no barrier to entry with comedy. It's not like in a company where you interview and then they do a background check on you. There's none of that. Anyone can do comedy. So because of that you get wonderful people, but you also get really dodgy people. I feel fortunate enough that there's a really good group of women around and we support each other."
In between the mouthfuls of dim sum and roast meats, Jenny is always candid about her experiences and the phenomena she encounters, wanting to bring her perspectives to people in a way that invites them in, like you're just chatting with her over some coffee. It's perhaps why, when looking around the crowd at her shows, you can see a real spread of people in attendance. Between old and young, from a variety of cultural backgrounds and places, whether from London, Sydney or Shanghai, all are here to listen to grounded, personal comedy that feels in touch with audiences' own worries and thoughts today.
Back in Three Uncles, we chat about weird names for English dishes - 'spotted dick', 'toad in the hole' and 'clootie dumplings' spark some particularly spirited discussions - before we wrap up and Jenny gathers her things.
"How do you prep for each performance?" I ask at the end, with very intricate pre-show and pre-performance rituals from some of the greats coming to mind.
"Oh, I don't really," she laughs.
With her natural wit and energy exactly the same over a meal as it is performing to a huge crowd, of course she needs no practice. With Jenny Tian, what you see is what you get. Long may it continue.
Jenny Tian can be found on Instagram here. Catch her previous special, Picture This, here.
Creative team: Maddie Armstrong & Aimée Kwan
Photographer: Pat Lyttle
Digital director: Maddie Armstrong
Many thanks to: Krista Booker and Three Uncles St. Pauls (https://www.threeuncles.co.uk/stpauls)
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