By 
When Ann Cantrell opened Annie’s Blue Ribbon General Store 18 years ago in Brooklyn, she never imagined that mahjong sets would become one of her hottest sellers.
But there they are—vintage sets nestled beside sleek modern designs in millennial pink and mint green—and they’re flying off the shelves. “I started carrying sets because customers kept asking for them,” says Cantrell. “I’ve had people come in who want them as decor, then they end up wanting to play.” Last March, after learning the American version of the game, Cantrell decided to host an introductory session at her store—just a casual evening over wine to teach people the basics. She expected a small turnout. Instead, over 50 people showed up. By the end of that night, 12 people had signed up for three-session courses.
The demand kept growing. Cantrell added more sessions, then summer classes, then three sessions in the fall. She now hosts monthly open-play nights for $25 that sell out weeks in advance, she says, drawing people from many different ethnic backgrounds who range in age from their 20s to their 60s. Some form WhatsApp groups afterward to continue playing together.
Welcome to mahjong’s surprise revival. The Chinese rummy-style game that may conjure thoughts of tiles clacking and elders playing has undergone a stunning resurgence, led in no small part by millennials and members of Gen Z from the greater Asian community.
In fact, between 2023 and 2024, Eventbrite reported a 179% increase in mahjong events nationwide, and images of eye-catching mahjong tables have captured the attention of the social media set. The pandemic only accelerated the appeal of a game built on presence, touch, and unhurried connection.
A game anchored in tradition
One aspect that makes mahjong unique, and its rise particularly remarkable, is its wide appeal. The game has multiple traditions including Chinese, Taiwanese, Japanese, Filipino, and American styles, which all have rich histories—and sometimes different spellings (you’ll see “mahjong,” “mah jong,” “mah-jongg,” and other variations).
There are more than 40 known versions of the rules, but the most popular in the U.S. are a Chinese variety and an American version. In both, players use luck, strategy, and skill to try to build a winning hand by taking and discarding tiles. In American mahjong, the rules for winning combinations change each year and are published on a card that players have and refer to. Also, the American version introduced Joker tiles that are not in the Chinese game.
Kimberly Lee, 60, a Chinese American interior designer at Carmen Grey Interiors in the Bay Area of California, is proficient in both versions. She still has the Chinese mahjong set her mother-in-law gave her 35 years ago. “I always had it in its case on my mahjong table,” she says. Though she and her husband didn’t play for years after her mother-in-law taught them, she kept the set, a physical link to family and heritage that would later draw her back to the game.
About a decade ago, a Chinese woman at the country club where Lee and she were members invited Lee to join in a mahjong game. “We played, as we say, Chinese style,” says Lee. Then, after COVID, she picked up the American version too: “I play with a couple of different groups. It’s been a great social outlet.”
At events held at The Haus of Mahj in Westport, Connecticut, Jewish co-owners Dana Bernstein and Jessica Prince Erlich have watched grandmothers, daughters, and granddaughters play together at the same table. “Dana and I have both been playing mahjong since our 20s, but it wasn’t ‘cool’ or popular then,” says Erlich, whose elementary-school-age children are now learning to play. “Now the game spans generations and backgrounds.”
“Mahjong has always been a way to find community,” says Annelise Heinz, Ph.D., a historian at the University of Oregon and the author of Mahjong: A Chinese Game and the Making of Modern American Culture, who has studied the game’s American history extensively. In the 1920s, American travelers got involved; Standard Oil employee Joseph Babcock brought his version of the game to the U.S. and it quickly became a sensation, especially among women.
In 1937, a group of Jewish women in New York City formed the National Mah-jongg League to standardize American rules and scoring. What they created wasn’t intended to become specifically Jewish, but the game spread through Jewish women’s social networks, Heinz explains, particularly taking off in postwar leisure spots such as the Catskills.
The timing mattered: In the 1950s, as Jewish Americans were entering the middle class in record numbers and moving to the suburbs, educated women who had left the workforce found themselves at home with young children in new communities. Regular mahjong games became both a way to connect with neighbors and a touchstone of Jewish identity. For decades, weekly mahjong games functioned as a quiet social infrastructure, offering continuity, friendship, and a sense of belonging that extended well beyond the table.
Nicole Wong, 38, the Oakland, California–based founder of The Mahjong Project and author of the book Mahjong: House Rules From Across the Asian Diaspora, has watched the game’s resurgence within the Asian community and beyond. “As people from other countries and cultures immigrated to the United States, they brought with them various iterations of the game—leading to the wonderful diversity of styles you can find and play here today,” she says.
Even people who grew up playing not mahjong but other family games—dominoes, euchre, backgammon, Rummikub, canasta—tend to be interested in it and learn it quickly, she has found. “Mahjong used to just be something I associated with family,” says Wong, “and now it feels like something much bigger than that—it’s a point of connection and an opportunity to engage more deeply with my community and the physical world around me.” For many younger Asian Americans, the revival feels less like a trend than like a return—bringing a generational family tradition into new social spaces.
The business of tiles
The mahjong boom has created a thriving economy. Small businesses are leading the charge, from Green Tile Social Club’s parties in New York City to the 13 Orphans speakeasy in Oakland, California, which serves soju cocktails and dim sum alongside tile games. Green Tile Social Club went from hosting intimate games in a cofounder’s living room in 2022 to offering supper clubs, speed dating, and other events with up to several hundred people, many of them Asian American New Yorkers in their 20s and 30s, all eager to connect over a game with deep roots in a shared history. Dedicated venues are popping up nationwide, transforming the game from a domestic tradition to a destination for a night out.
Teaching businesses have flourished alongside the social venues. The Haus of Mahj offers three service tiers—beginner lessons, private events for birthdays and corporate team-building, and community pop-ups that partner with local businesses from restaurants to wellness studios. The entire operation is built around making the game accessible and social, and the model is proving successful across the country.
Tech platforms are also joining in. Blair Gibson, 28, a regional manager at a fitness studio in New York City, plays mahjong on an app two or three times a month for about 30 to 45 minutes at a time, often while listening to podcasts or on flights. She grew up in Hacienda Heights, CA, in a predominantly Chinese neighborhood. “I don’t remember playing mahjong much until eighth grade, when my math teacher taught me about her favorite mahjong app,” she says.
Despite the variations in rules, spelling, and format, if you ask players what draws them to mahjong you’ll hear remarkably consistent answers: connection, mental stimulation, and the unique physical pleasure of the game itself. “Mahjong is this perfect mix of strategy, connection, and tactile therapy,” says Erlich. “It’s a great way to get together in a social setting and be off your phone. And once you start playing, it’s so addictive. Every game ends with someone saying, ‘Should we play one more?’ ” For Wendi Hausfeld-Carragher, 44, who lives in the Washington, DC, area, the appeal is both social and cognitive: In the American version of mahjong, “every year there’s a new card to learn, so it keeps your brain sharp—but it’s also just fun to be with friends,” she says.
For some players, the sensory aspect of the game is profound. Lee describes how experienced players like her mother-in-law develop an uncanny recognition of the tiles. “They don’t even have to look at a tile,” she says. “They can feel it with their fingers.”
More than a moment
What’s the future of the game? The players and business owners think it’s all upside.
“Everyone wants to learn now,” says Bernstein. “It’s a great social hobby anyone can learn and a great way to get together with friends no matter how old you are.”
Heinz sees historical precedent for the game’s staying power. “Mahjong has had multiple waves of popularity in America over the past century,” she explains. “What we’re seeing now feels different because it’s being driven by a genuine need for connection and community. Those needs aren’t going away.” For the intergenerational players, the hope is simple: that the game will continue to bring people together as it always has.
Having the opportunity to get together with friends regularly at a set time and day to play a game and socialize can be very fulfilling, says Lois Weinberg, 79, who lives in Las Vegas. Donna Parish, 75, of Portland, Oregon, sees it the same way: “I think playing mahjong is both a challenge and a fun time to be with friends who enjoy winning and can deal with losing. It becomes a regular part of our lives: same day each week, same group of friends at the table, and a time for conversations and sometimes making new connections.”
In an era of digital overwhelm and social isolation, perhaps the most comforting thing you can do is gather a few friends around a table, shuffle some tiles, and build order out of chaos—together.
Sarah Teng/Green Tile Social Club (mahjong table); courtesy of Annie’s Blue Ribbon General Store (storefront); Jenaé Weinbrenner Photography (The Haus of Mahj mahjong event); Photographer: Jon Harrison; Creative Director, Producer: Hanna Yuan Chen (13 Orphans Speakeasy mahjong table).
