A Spot of Bubbly Boba Tea in the heart of Boston University's campus

Despite a sticky Boston University policy and stiff competition, Kwet Fong Tjong is pretty sure of himself - and his product.

"I don't sell hot dogs," Tjong said, pointing to pictures of native Indonesian dishes and a list of about 100 mixed beverages. "Once you try my food, you'll want to come back again."

Warm, piquant aromas flow out the entrance of the small, brightly colored Spice King at 714 Commonwealth Ave. Lined along the yellow, orange and lime green walls are more than 100 Polaroid snapshots, all of smiling students in love with Tjong's establishment.

"This is one of the best places on campus," said School of Management senior Yashika Aharwal.

Tjong offers a distinctive menu including chicken curry, melon soup, tofu and sandwiches stuffed with eggplant and Portobello mushrooms. With the exception of popcorn chicken, all dishes are cooked from scratch.

BU Academy seniors Roshini Zachariah and Aaron Bernstein, forking pieces of beef rendang, say the fresh ingredients make a difference.

"We've been coming here for the past two years, [ever] since we first heard about it," Bernstein said.

Tjong is especially fond of his homemade sauces, like the hot chili spread on the King Sandwich, a feature dish that took him eight months to perfect.

"My philosophy is quality food at a good price," he said.

A 10 percent discount card is available as well as a "buy 10 drinks, get one free" reward card. Tjong said he also offers group discounts to student organizations.

THE BEEF BEHIND BOBA

Spice King's drink selection - from smoothies and slushes to hot and cold teas - is a refreshing alternative to the plethora of coffee and espresso cafés. By far the best-selling beverage is boba, an Asian specialty that could make Starbucks' loyalists drop their triple mochas in awe.

Boba, also known as bubble tea, is a cool, flavored tea blend filled with sweet tapioca jellies. Boba fans sip the round, black jellies from the bottom of the cup through a straw.

"It's really tasty and I like the texture," said College of Arts and Sciences sophomore Bob Mollicone. "It's not cloyingly sweet like many American candies are."

Introduced a decade ago in Taiwan, boba has remained a hit in many Asian countries. Jun Iriyama, a CAS freshman, said he drinks boba about four times a day in China, where tea stands sell cups for about 50 cents.

"I never get tired of it," Iriyama said. "You have it at every meal. It's like water."

While Californians were some of the first Americans to sample boba several years ago, cafés across the country increasingly serve it. Since Tjong opened Spice King in May 2003, BU students have enjoyed this Far East delicacy right on campus.

"Regular tea is boring," Tjong said. "I like to do new things."

Tjong mixes his own exotic boba varieties such as "Oreo Snow," a blend of Oreo cookies, milk and vanilla, and "Maddy Taro," a drink made with milk and taro root (a type of potato).

"I hope people get curious," he said.

THE CORPORATE COOK

The man behind the counter of Spice King may appear to be a regular foreign-born entrepreneur, but Tjong knows more than just culinary skills.

In the winter of 1980, he moved with his sister from warm Indonesia to the blustery cold of Boston.

"It was 10 a.m. on Christmas morning," he said, cracking a laugh. "I never saw snow before, and here I was, in the middle of a snowstorm."

The following year, Tjong enrolled at Northeastern University, where he studied electrical engineering. After graduating in 1985, he was a computer programmer for more than 10 years at John Hancock Mutual Life Insurance. In between working on mainframes and client-side PCs, Tjong took additional night classes at BU. He moved on as a contractor for State Street Bank, but after two years, Tjong needed a change.

"I wanted to take destiny in my hand," he said. "I wanted to start my own business."

So he hit the streets as a pushcart vendor. Three summers ago, Tjong entered into the food market by selling kabobs and sandwiches at Government Center. Although personal feedback from customers was great, lugging the pushcart and storing it in a certified kitchen was not.

"Pushcarts are hard," he said. "It's like moving a house every day."

On May 5, 2003, after months of product research and testing downtown, Tjong secured a property in the center of campus.

"I didn't want a full-service restaurant, but a fast-food environment," he said. "It had to be quick, easy to make, but taste good; something you couldn't find anywhere else."

MOST CONVENIENT

At 44, Tjong is married, has two children, employs several students and serves a loyal customer base, but business could be better. The main problem, he said, is the university's refusal to expand its convenience point program.

Currently Domino's Pizza, Campus Convenience, the Union Court and several other food outlets housed in BU buildings allow purchases with convenience points, a policy Tjong said is unfair to both students and local businesses.

"It's not an open market. It's being monopolized," he said. "Convenience points are for the students, and it's not convenient if you can't access them [at other places]."

Last year Tjong collected about 1,000 student signatures for a petition sponsored by the Displeased Students at Boston University. The petition asked that the administration consider adding more businesses to the program, but former DSBU president Seth Lubin said it changed nothing.

"I don't know why there is such a resistance to including businesses," Tjong said. "It wouldn't be difficult. The system is in place, all they have to do is implement it."

Tjong said he would gladly pay BU a percentage for points usage on top of the rent he already pays the school. He said his biggest mistake in searching for real estate was assuming that BU would involve their leasees in the program.

"If I knew that before, I might not have come here," he said.

SPICE AND EVERYTHING NICE

Despite tensions with the university, Tjong is otherwise optimistic about the years ahead. He hopes to acquire more stores throughout Boston, hire more students during the daytime and add a full-time cook to prepare the meals for overnight storage, which he says enhances the taste of the marinades.

"I don't want to get stuck in a store," he said. "I want to reach out to opportunity."

Tjong knows that his business cannot yet match the size and revenues of chains like Dunkin' Donuts. But he's doing it his own way, without his name on a napkin or an everyday latte.