Racist landlords discouraged her as she worked to open a larger location. Diners used to inexpensive Chinese food complained about the prices. Ms. Chiang was a woman in her 40s, starting her own business in a new country, in an industry dominated by men. But under her command, the Mandarin thrived, becoming one of the nation’s most influential restaurants of its time.

“I didn’t know I had a talent, I didn’t know I had a palate,” Ms. Chiang said during her birthday lunch on Sept. 18, gripping a pair of disposable chopsticks. She finds them easier to handle with her arthritic hands than the fancy kind, which are too slippery. “If I hadn’t come here, to the United States, I’d probably be a housewife.”

Today, she lives alone in a roomy penthouse apartment, filled with Chinese art and photos of her family and friends alongside the chefs she has mentored, like Belinda Leong of B. Patisserie and Corey Lee of Benu.

“I love my life,” Ms. Chiang said, beaming. “You can probably tell that I’m a very happy person.”

Every day, Ms. Chiang checks email on her phone and reads a hard copy of the newspaper, then takes the elevator down to do her stretches in the park across the street. Though her favorite cleaver has become too heavy for her to maneuver, Ms. Chiang still cooks.