和府撈麵:一碗「書房裡的麵」,為何越賣越虧?

2025-06-21

和府撈麵:一碗「書房裡的麵」,為何越賣越虧?

在中國快餐界,和府撈麵曾經是一個「不按常理出牌」的存在。它不走地道市井風,也不主打性價比,而是將麵館開進「書房」,以紅木書架、毛筆字畫和「草本養生」為包裝,營造出一種高端中式美學氛圍。一碗麵賣到四五十元,卻仍能吸引年輕白領排隊購買,一度被譽為「面館界的星巴克」。在資本的加持下,它估值高達70億人民幣,風頭無兩。然而,風光背後卻隱藏著無法支撐的商業邏輯與經營焦慮,隨著2022年之後接連爆發的關店潮、虧損擴大與口碑翻車,這個曾被捧上天的新消費標杆,終究跌入了現實的深坑。

和府撈麵的崛起,其實是資本助推下的場景神話。

2012年創辦人李學林從肯德基離職後,創立和府撈麵。他重新定義麵館,不再是傳統印象中煙火氣十足的路邊小吃,而是結合中式書房與現代簡餐理念,打造出「中式書香快餐」的新概念。門店裡擺滿裝飾用的書架,牆上懸掛國畫與書法,搭配柔和燈光與復古傢俱,試圖傳遞一種「優雅吃麵」的生活方式。主打「草本熬湯、養生食補」的產品設定,也契合當時都市白領對健康與儀式感的雙重追求。

靠著這樣的差異化定位,和府撈麵迅速走紅,單店月營業額一度突破50萬元。上海、杭州、深圳等一線城市的商圈門店常常大排長龍,甚至需要等位一小時。2021年,它完成8億元人民幣的E輪融資,投資方包括騰訊與CMC資本,估值暴漲至70億人民幣,揚言要在全國開設上千家門店,進軍千億規模的中式快餐市場。但問題也在這時開始暴露:一碗賣到四五十元的麵,真的值得嗎?

和府撈麵所謂的「高端」,在很多消費者眼中其實是「偽高端」。

許多人吃完後的第一反應不是感動,而是疑問:這碗面為什麼這麼貴?番茄肥牛面45元(人民幣)、黃燜牛肉面48元,看似精緻,但實際味道卻平淡無奇。消費者質疑湯底是調料包沖泡,面條質感與街邊十元拉麵無異。「花50元吃到的,還不如公司食堂拌麵來得香」,成了社交平台上的高頻吐槽。更令人出戲的是,那些看似滿架的書本其實全都封膜,無法翻閱。久而久之,「書房式場景」從新鮮變成雞肋,無法促進複購,反而拉低翻台率,與快餐業「高週轉」的本質背道而馳。

供應鏈與成本結構也是壓垮和府撈麵的關鍵。

為維持「慢熬草本湯底」的人設,和府投入大量資源建立中央廚房與冷鏈配送系統。但在標準化的過程中,湯底風味無法穩定,常被批評「無魂無香」,與其高價位形成明顯落差。原材料成本佔營收比例超過40%,冷鏈配送則讓物流成本暴漲,比同行高出約三成,這使得單店盈利模型極度脆弱。一旦門店營業額稍有下滑,就會跌入虧損泥潭。據離職員工透露,公司曾設下每店每月營收60萬的盈虧平衡點,但2022年後,至少一半門店連30萬都無法達到。

為追求擴張速度,和府還大舉進駐一線城市核心商圈的Shopping Mall。這些地段租金高昂,平均佔到營收的25%,而行業平均僅為15%。為了維持增長數據,它甚至向下沉市場進軍,在常州、煙台、洛陽等地開店,卻水土不服。當地消費者根本無法接受「一碗麵賣50元」的定價,有些門店日銷不足千元,開店即虧損。

 

2022年之後,和府撈麵從「資本寵兒」迅速轉為「斷臂求生」。

高峰過後的第一波是關店潮。2023年,和府關閉超過80家門店,其中不乏北京朝陽大悅城、深圳COCO Park這類核心地段店舖,許多關門時甚至沒有公佈說明,悄然撤場。為了挽救現金流,公司推出29元工作餐,但分量明顯縮水,肥牛片從5片減為3片,遭到顧客強烈反彈,口碑進一步下滑。同時,和府內部人事變動頻繁,2023年COO離職,創始人李學林也逐步淡出一線,資本方開始介入經營決策。與此同時,陳香貴、馬子祿等中價位拉麵品牌趁勢崛起,憑藉30元以下的合理定價與穩定品質佔據市場。和府既無法完全降價以爭奪大眾市場,又丟失對「高端」消費者的吸引力,陷入兩難境地。

社交媒體上的輿情也加速它的「塌房」。

曾經在小紅書上被稱為「精緻白領打卡必去」,如今卻充滿吐槽聲。「智商稅」「偽精緻」「掛羊頭賣狗肉」等詞頻頻出現。有顧客在大眾點評表示:「服務員愛搭不理,點餐後等半小時才上菜。」還有人拍照曝光餐具殘留洗潔精,引發食安爭議,即使官方致歉也無法挽回信任。原本代表品質與體面的「書房養生面」,如今變成「自欺欺人」的代名詞。

和府撈麵的失速,不僅是個別品牌的悲劇,更是整個新消費賽道的縮影。

這幾年,太多「故事大於內容」的品牌在一波又一波資本熱潮中誕生。它們擅長包裝、講故事、營造場景感,但缺乏對產品本身的深耕與誠意。當初的和府撈麵靠著「書房裡的麵」引起關注,但最終敗在「不夠好吃又太貴」這一簡單邏輯上。

餐飲的本質從未改變:不是裝修越漂亮就能留住顧客,也不是越養生越能賣高價。一碗麵要想活得長久,終究要回歸「好吃、便宜、方便」這三大真理。這三者中,至少得佔兩樣。否則,無論故事講得多動聽,也不過是空中樓閣,終將倒塌。

Why Hefu noodles Is Losing Money: The Hidden Traps of “Book Room” Noodles

In China’s fast-casual dining scene, Hefu noodles once defied convention. Rather than leaning into gritty street-food charm or emphasizing value, it positioned itself as a "noodle house in a study." With redwood bookshelves, brush-style wall calligraphy, and a herbal-wellness aesthetic, it exuded refined elegance. Charging 40–50 RMB per bowl, it attracted queues of young office workers and was even called “the Starbucks of noodle houses.” Backed by capital, it reached a valuation of 7 billion RMB. But beneath the sleek image lay a fragile business model plagued by mounting losses, store closures, and reputation collapse—revealing that this picture-perfect concept couldn’t withstand reality.

From Cult Brand to Capital Myth

Founded in 2012 by Li Xuelin, a former KFC executive, Hefu noodles redefined noodles as an upscale, Chinese literary dining experience. Its stores were filled with ornamental bookshelves, traditional paintings, and antique furnishings—soft-lit spaces that encouraged diners to “eat noodles elegantly.” Emphasizing slow-simmered herbal broths and nutrient-rich recipes catered perfectly to wellness-conscious white-collar customers. The concept quickly caught on; monthly sales in prime stores exceeded 500,000 RMB. By 2021, it secured a 800 million RMB funding round from heavyweights like Tencent and CMC Capital, boasting a 7 billion RMB valuation and aspiring to open thousands of locations. The questions began to surface: Is one bowl really worth 45 RMB?

 

When "Premium" Feels Like Pretenders

Diners soon perceived the premium image as superficial. Comments on social media often highlighted bland flavors and simple condiments pretending to be broth. One popular review quipped, “Better flavor in the office canteen’s mixed noodles for far less.” Though surrounded by glossy bookcases, the volumes were all sealed—no one could actually read them. The “bookroom” aesthetic, once fresh, became a gimmick that discouraged repeat visits and clashed with the fast turnover that fast-casual dining depends on.

Costly Supply Chain and Rental Burdens

To support its herbal broth image, Hefu noodles built a central kitchen and cold-chain logistics. But maintaining consistent flavor proved difficult, with many customers describing the broth as “soulless.” Its ingredient costs exceeded 40 percent of revenue, while logistics ran 30 percent higher than rivals. This meant even slight dips in daily sales could push outlets into the red. Former employees said each store needed at least 600,000 RMB monthly just to break even—but post-2022, half struggled to reach 300,000 RMB. Simultaneously, Hefu noodles over-expanded into premium malls, where rent accounted for about 25 percent of revenue—vastly higher than industry norms—and opened water-unfriendly branches in lower-tier cities with an audience unwilling to pay premium prices. Some struggled to sell 1,000 RMB a day—hardly sustainable.

Collapse and Competition

By 2022, the strategy unraveled. Over 80 stores closed in 2023, including flagship locations in major malls in Beijing and Shenzhen. Some shuttered without explanation. In an effort to recapture momentum, management rolled out a 29 RMB lunch set—but customers quickly noticed reduced serving sizes (only three beef slices instead of five), triggering backlash. Leadership also reshuffled: the COO resigned in 2023, and founder Li gradually stepped back as investors stepped in.

Meanwhile, mid-tier ramen brands like Chenxianggui and Mazilu seized the moment, offering quality bowls under 30 RMB, putting Hefu noodles in a no-win position: too expensive for mass appeal, too mediocre to justify the mark-up.

Public Disillusionment Accelerates the Fall

What was once praised on social media as a “must-visit spot for refined youths” now attracts criticism for being “a bourgeois tax” and “fake refinement.” Certain reviews even exposed hygiene issues like detergent residue on plates. Even official apologies did little to restore trust. What was meant to be a shrine to refined, health-conscious eating became a symbol of façade and self-deception.

A Broader Lesson for New Consumer Brands

Hefu noodles’s downfall echoes a wider problem: brands that prioritize story and atmosphere over substance often crumble under scrutiny. No matter how beautiful the packaging, when the product is overpriced and flavorless, customers won’t return.

The fundamentals of food business haven’t changed: good food, fair price, convenience. Brands must deliver at least two of these to succeed. A compelling narrative alone won’t prevent an elegant mirage from collapsing.

In the end, Hefu noodles’s story is more than just a noodle house’s failure—it’s a cautionary tale. As new consumer brands emerge with stylish facades and fused cultural concepts, they would do well to remember: without genuine taste and sustainable margins, even the most beautiful temp salons and literary-inspired spaces are destined to crash.