[ Food Week: Hawker Food ] When we think of hawker food, the usual suspects likely come to mind: Laksa, hokkien mee, mee siam, briyani etc. Rarely — for me at least — does my mind wander towards snacks sold in hawker centres like rojak, savoury kueh, tutu kueh, apam balik, and other snacks that make up my childhood.

And usually when I get one as a treat from my folks, I rarely bother to document the moment, feeling like a between-meal indulgence doesn’t warrant enough significance to be immortalised in my food dairy.

This Phase 2, while we are seeing a profusion of heartfelt adoration for hawker stalls, many of their neighbours who sell desserts or small bites tend to slip under the radar. After all, when we think of hawkers, most of us associate them with our major meals of the day — everything else is filtered by the feathered edges of the hours that revolve around proper breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

I struggled to find a snack that would induce a similar effusion of ardour. Hopefully this uncommon treat — that teeters on the precipice of extinction — can remind us to support hawkers who devote their time and craft to perfecting small bites that tide us until our next meal.

This, my friends, is the Fuzhou oyster cake (aka the aptly named UFO oyster cake). Brought to Singapore by Fuzhou immigrants, this is a rather laborious treat to make, consisting of a thin, fried shell of batter made from rice (sometimes blended with soya beans) encapsulating a potpourri of minced meat and cilantro, pierced with the occasional oyster (or whichever other topping you prefer), and finally dusted with fried peanuts and/or anchovies.

It smells absolutely amazing — the rich brine of the meat-oyster combination is tempered by gentle whiffs of sweet rice batter, melded into a coherent whole by the bite of cilantro and weight of oil.

And yes, it’s as — and likely even more — sinful than it looks.

There are several big names that still serve excellent Fuzhou Oyster Cakes. Each has its own signature, but they all share the same denominator: Crisp and fragrant shell of burnished bronze, a generous dollop of filling, accompanied by fresh and succulent seafood/oyster.

[ Food Week: Hawker Food ] Just because a hawker is renowned doesn't make it impervious to the adverse impacts of Phase 2. When you are next at your favourite hawker, take a moment to survey their stall. Do you see more leftovers than usual? Or maybe the variety of dishes has shrunk? Or perhaps the operating hours are much more restrained than before?

Whichever the case, even hawkers who traditionally sell out before the sun reaches its zenith have been seeing enough irregular demand to warrant concern. If we wish to support their longevity, the best way to do it is to buy a meal yourself. Who knows how many others are relying on the same fallacy of “someone else will buy” — if you don’t take action, and neither do they, who else is there left?

Today’s feature, Tiong Bahru’s Loo’s Hainanese Curry Rice, needs little introduction. Helmed by Mr. Loo, the son of the original recipe’s creator, the establishment has endured for over seven decades. Rain or shine — sans Thursdays on every fortnight — Mr. Loo continues to serve his family’s legacy to locals and tourists.

During more normal times, look across the crowded coffeeshop and it feels like a microcosm of Singapore: Multi-generational families hunched over small tables; white-collared workers rushing against the clock; partially intimidated tourists ogling at the clockwise chaos; foremen braving the sun to cart back multi-packs; affluent matriarchs perched in their rides awaiting their helpers’ return.

I digress — but what I’m trying to say is that places like Loo’s don’t just exist as pit stops for great food; they’ve evolved their own gravities, creating atmospheres and environments that are solely unique to their existence. If these places disappear, not only do we lose a link in our already precarious hawker culture — we risk weakening the integrity of our already patchwork social fabric.

For those who do want to try Loo’s legacy, the choice is simple: Try his Hainanese pork chop. Both the original ketchup or the curry versions are worth a taste. To pair, their chap chye acts as a wonderful contrasting complement; if not, go for their pork belly or other curries to amp it up even further.

[ Food Review – Hawker Food ] It wouldn’t be a proper list of hawker food without some nasi padang action, amirite? Presenting Kim San Leng Coffeeshop’s Nasi Padang!

Yes, I’m bringing this back yet again — for good reasons! — because how often can someone with as sensitive a stomach as me find nasi padang that I can eat on a d a i l y basis?? (And no, that’s not a hyperbole!) It’s especially telling when I find myself craving this stall’s nasi padang versus Sixth Avenue Nasi Lemak (which becomes nasi padang if you order the way I do!) despite having eaten the latter for more years of my life!

And hey, Bukit Timah is already sorely lacking in nasi padang stalls — let alone good ones — so I’m especially invested in keeping this stall up!

For the benefit of those who’ve not seen my previous posts, instead of the usual richer, heavier flavours that are characteristic of Indonesian nasi padang (also its place of origin!), this stall does Malaysian-styled nasi padang.The difference? The flavours are no less robust but the sauces are lighter, and the flavours more fragrant than trying to overwhelm you in intensity.

That said, their sambal belachan packs a heckuva punch. I remember eating it for the first time in ages, and even I felt a bit of the heat! 10/10 would recommend for a fellow spice connoisseur.

Can we just take some time to marvel at the gorgeous rainbow of colours on this plate? If you are a first timer, this is one good way to start: Adorn your plate in as wide an assortment of colours and textures as you can. That way you can properly sample the variety of spices and cooking styles the stall has to offer!

Don’t know where to start? Try this plate on for size!

Protein: Beef rendang (look at the size of those chunks!) or assam fish (if you prefer something lighter that you can ladle over your rice)

Veg: Stir fried fresh greens (they usually have at least 1-3 options available if you want something without spice) or sayur lodeh (surprise, surprise, theirs isn’t sweet!)

Sides (pick 1-2): Tempeh (look at how dense and beautifully coloured this one is!), fried egg (fluffy without being overdone), or fried fishballs (hey this is great with the sambal ok).

[ Food Week: Hawker Food ] Moving a little outside my usual sphere of travel by dining at Holland Road this time! (It’s Holland Village Market & Food Centre, not to be conflated with Holland D r i v e Market & Food Centre in the Buona Vista/Ghim Moh area btw.) In terms of sheer variety, accessibility, and affordability, I still find this enclave unmatched when it comes to cheap and quick eats in the estate.

Despite the popularity of other stalls, I always found myself gravitating towards the seafood soup from Li Ji Xiao Chi (李记小吃), a place that serves a medley of unrelated homemade-styled local delights.

While we didn’t get that today, there was an old regular who was recovering from an accident who hobbled to a table near ours. It was only after a brimming bowl of seafood soup appeared in front of him did he visibly relax. In that moment, I felt the comfort of my childhood nostalgia. Amazing what a simple bowl of noodles can do to you, eh!

Forgoing the siren’s call of the beautiful prawns-fish-cabbage combo (darn you, medical diet!), we ended up with a plate of her fried rice instead. Here’s the thing: I’m no fan of fried rice. Don’t like rice, don’t like oil (and thus most fried stuff), but I was fine sampling her variant because throughout the years, she has always been meticulous in her preparation, and consistent in keeping her dishes healthier than the usual bar.

This was no different. Each scoop revealed studs of shrimp, egg, and meat (either char siew or lap cheong, alas, my memory fails me) squirreled within the mound of rice. The rice wasn’t too salty nor oily, relying on the pairing of basic condiments like salt and pepper to accentuate the toppings to impart flavour to the dish. The rice was a lot more moist than I’d prefer, but the glistening, sunny egg was stirred in, the yolk trickled between the grains and masked (complemented?) the wetness, turning it into a much more satisfying lurid affair.

This dish isn’t meant for the ravenous. Think of it as a scoop from the chef’s home kitchen instead — a measured taste of her experience and history that satiates the weary, but not enough for one to surfeit on for an extended day.

Continuing with this season of food week with something much closer to my neighbourhood: Malaysian-styled Wanton stall + Roast meats at Binjai’s Hup Choon Eating House!

Ever since we discovered Hup Choon Eating House hidden within the Binjai Park estate when I was a child, it’s been a staple in our breakfast diets for over a decade!

I remember covering the roast meats this stall has to over a bit ago, so today I’ll be focusing on my f a v item here: Their char siew wanton kway teow soup! (Yes, I know that is a very specific order.)

Some FYIs: The goodies tend to sell out after lunch; the entire coffeeshop is closed on Weds; the location tag is for the seafood stall that’s run by the coffeeshop’s owner, this stall is next to it!

Now that that’s out of the way, here’s why I’ve no problems eating their wanton kway teow nearly every single week for breakfast across multiple years (that trend is still going strong!):

The meat cuts you get here — be it duck, roasted pork, or char siew — are always freshly roasted, and are lean yet juicy. This doesn’t mean you end up with dry, bristled pieces. On the contrary, because of the roasting process, you get to savour the sweetness inherent to these cuts without being inundated with excessive fats and oil. (You can request for specific cuts — the uncle-auntie pair is really friendly and loves to chat!)

Their wantons aren’t anything to scoff at either. Each bulb is generously stuffed with meat and wrapped in a thin layer. The meat is never fatty, and seasoned just enough to provide flavour to pair with, but not distract from the soup. (Order a separate bowl of these/shui jiao on cold days for a treat!)

Finally, what really enamoured me to this specific dish is the soup. No, it doesn’t share a profile with complex double-boiled soups; instead, it offers a smooth, warm, comforting bloom of yellow beans suffused with vibrant greens — it’s the perfect complement to the heavier meats, and grounds you back into the simple yet blissful joy of enjoying a bowl of freshly cooked noodles. It’s a reminder that no matter how tough the day is, there is always a warm, homecooked bowl waiting to nourish you.

[ Hawker Food Review ] I managed to get my hands on some good ol’ hawker comfort food today! I am super excited to post about this, and also in part to support the movement to share and promote traditional hawkers via social media — especially if they have been left behind by the digital divide. Today’s food in focus: Thye Hong Handmade Fishball Noodles (Ghim Moh)!

Fellow fishball fanatics may recognise the brand — Thye Hong is quite the bulwark in the hawker sphere, whose reputation has been fuelled by the culinary efforts of five siblings (of which three specialise in fishball noodles). The brand I’m most familiar with is this, the one in Ghim Moh managed by the second oldest of the sibling group. The two sibling (heh) brands are in Bukit Batok — run by the youngest brother under the same brand name — and Holland Drive — managed by the fourth brother under the name Ru Ji Kitchen — but despite similar roots, their noodles have a unique signature courtesy of the respective chef’s interpretation of their father’s techniques, and decades-long incorporation of their own masteries and flourishes.

I’ve eaten these noodles since I was a child, and even back then (i.e. when yours truly was more than happy to stuff anything fried into her stomach without much care for finesse and flavour), I always had a special fondness for THHFN.

The true magic of the bowl is in the wreath of handmade fishcakes and fishballs that circle the noodles. Made from fresh yellowtail with just enough a pinch of flour to hold everything together, each bite is met with a wispy hue of brine-touched savoury goodness. Despite the potency of the mix, you’re never met with a mouthful of fish; and in spite of its more muted intensity, you can still revel in the sea-swept flavour.

That’s the real magic: Decades upon decades of gastronomical prowess condensed into these hand-moulded bites. (And yes, the meatball is just as-, wait, it’s e v e n more boisterous in flavour, and has the most divine bouncy crunch.)

Don’t wait to taste the magic of a bygone decade — given the uncle’s age, please give him the support; besides, who knows how long it’ll be until the taste of his legacy becomes but a wistful memory.

Today’s dish in focus is one I rarely post; not because I don’t like it — on the contrary, it’s one of their bestsellers! — but more because I can’t get enough of their ramyun, oops. Say hello to Kong’s Korean Chicken Wings!

Whether you’re looking for a between-meal snack or trying to find a more robust full meal to energise yourself, these wings got your back. You can savour them alone or let them accentuate your ramyun or rice bowl, but if you r e a l l y want to bring out the South-meets-East Asian in you, go for that unparalleled harmony-in-diversity route of sweet-savoury(-spicy) by enjoying them with freshly made waffles. (Geddit? South because it’s a Southern dish; East because of the Korean influence. Okay, I’ll see myself out.)

The last time I covered the wings here, I raved about the improved honey butter variant. If I’d thought it couldn’t get any more aromatic, my goodness, if a n y o n e orders it, I’d be fighting self-restraint trying not to get a plate for myself, regardless of how full I am (when we get to dine-in again, that is).

That doesn’t mean the spicy version is any less fragrant! Where the former entices with the silken scent of butter, this entrances with it feisty sauce. Unlike certain big chains who overwhelm with the spice level, Kong’s tends to sit at a comfortable simmer (for most; yours truly just finds it mostly tasty!), occasionally peeking through the piquant sauce to excite.

It is because of this sauce that I find the spicy option a better pairing with waffles — the sauce holds enough body in flavour and volume to sit comfortably atop the sweet waffles, and folds into the dips of the waffles without damaging the structure.

(Pst, If you’re like me and dislike dealing with pesky bones during your meal, debone them first before placing them on your waffles!)

Oh, and if you’ve space for dessert after, get the lemon cake. The delicate flavour helps quench away the richness of the wings without further saturating your palate!

[ Food Review — Trying more menu items! ] Before the no dine-in restrictions, a certain someone and I managed to squeeze in a visit to Flagwhite to grab some café food for dinner. (Like we said, we thoroughly enjoy the perks of being adults!)

Because we — by we, I really mean I — tend to get the same menu item 9 out of 10 times whenever I’m dining in a familiar spot, I tried r e a l l y hard to deviate from my comfort zone, and ended up getting their Baked Halibut Burger (w/ tater tots instead of fries; w/o grilled capsicum) ($16), while a peckish certain someone ordered the Beef Schnitzel (also w/ tater tots instead of fries) ($18).

Caveat: I tend to be really picky with my burgers, preferring to either subsist super budget versions or swinging to the other extreme of the spectrum by choosing gourmet options. It’s rare for me to get burgers in-between because after eating more than my fair share of burgers — most of them just do n o t justify the price point (and calories).

What I like about Flagwhite is that they do not hold back on portion sizes for their mains. While I was pretty filled up on my meal and it wasn’t bad — finishing the tater tots was quite the challenge — I’d hoped for a little larger a fillet patty. I wouldn’t have minded paying a couple of dollars more; the extra halibut would’ve helped balance out the thick tufts of aged onion jam. That said, the buns were fluffy and the jam had good flavour, but alas, the tater tots were a tad too oily this time round.

A certain someone’s schnitzel on the other hand, did not disappoint. The schnitzel was pretty decently sized without much — if any really — tendons or other similarly annoying tough/dry bits. The meat was pretty trim as well — always a plus point! Here’s something else that Flagwhite does well: They know how to season their crumb coat. Too many places don’t consider how a bland outer cover completely ruins any flavour within, but not here! The layer is thin too, which means you get the full benefit of the coat’s texture and its slightly sweeter profile, both of which complement the beef’s innate savouriness. Would defo get this again!

Remember when a certain someone and I tried capybara dumplings? (Farmed ofc; you can find the review… Somewhere down there in my Insta.) I said I’d do a proper review of the actual place we were at, but because my old photos have disappeared into the depths of my phone, we’ll just have to settle with the haphazard spread of my latest visit instead for today’s intro post. Yay!

First things first: What is a 串烧 (chuan shao)? Take a close look at the 1st character — see how it’s made of 2 rectangles stacked atop a vertical line? That visual metaphor is literally it: It’s chinese-styled skewers (typically cooked in spicy broth or dusted with chilli powder)! And shao refers to cooking said skewers over a fire — like in a bbq!

When I first visited BBQ Box, I was most struck by how similar the place was to my memories of meals in China. The entire atmosphere and vibe were analogous to my memories — they did a great job of transplanting a taste (heh) of China into my neighbourhood. (Finished with a gundam-esque rip-off welcoming you at the door; perfection!)

And just like other Sichuan-derived eateries that serve similar fare in the Mainland, the menu is huge. In spite of its name, BBQ skewers are just a fraction of its offerings: You can find everything from noodles, to dumplings, to cold dishes, to skewers of all kinds (meat, seafood, carbs, veg — the entire works, really), and even Japanese dishes! (I wholeheartedly believe this is why Mikawa next door can’t seem to do a full-house.)

This totally-not-CB, if you’re curious to try some good ol’串串 and its complements from BBQ Box (takeaway/delivery), let me give you a sampler list of what you should get:

Lamb w/ Red Switch (Basically premium lamb) > all other meat skewers ($3.80)
Japanese Grilled Unagi (well worth) ($5.80)
Grilled shrooms (the abalone shroom/pleurotus eryngil is my fav) ($1.50)
Grilled Mantou Slice or 2 pc Grilled Japanese Rice Balls (for real) ($1.20 or $5.60)
Sichuan Tasty Lotus Root (best. thing. EVER.) ($5.80)
Spicy Dry Soya Bean Cake Floss (great palate cleanser) ($7.80)

(All prices are per serving/skewer.)

Oh, and everything is customisable too!

[ Food Review — Like kway chap? Why not try Thai kway chap then? ] TFW you let your photos sit for months before posting, oops. (We literally went the week the Cheong Chin Nam branch opened!)

I know I rarely feature kway chap on my Insta, but it’s not because I dislike it — for the record, I used to eat it once or twice a week without fail! — but more of the difficulty of getting any decent ones without needing to get behind the wheel. But with Yaowarat now just down the road, finally, my kway chap woes are over!

Here’s one thing you should know though: YWR isn’t just any ol’ kway chap stall — it serves Thai-styled kway chap! You won’t see the usual signature dark soy-based broth here. See that light translucent broth with coiled rice noodles sheets? THAT is Thai kway chap.

The main difference is really just that. The broth is made of a much lighter pepper base; Yaowarat claims to use over ten different spices in their mix, which means while you don’t get as rich a body as traditional Teochew kway chap soup, you end up with a more nuanced broth that actually goes better with a wider variety of toppings/sides. As for the rice noodles, they’re mostly the same — just sliced into smaller sheets and coiffed for better slurping pleasure. (Seriously tho, being able to funnel streams of soup instead of passively eating the sheets in water is so much more dynamic!)

For newcomers, go for their Signature Thai Kway Chap ($5 dine-in/$7.50 takeaway). It gives you a sampler of everything without needing to commit: Lean pork, pork stomach, crispy pork belly, and Thai fish sausage. Or if you want something lighter, get their plain kway chap ($3 d.i./$4 t.a.) and add some dishes.

Our sides for the day included: Thai Fish Sausage ($6 or $8 d.i./$10 t.a.) — not bad, but too sweet and oily for my liking — Stir Fried Cabbage w/ Fish Sauce ($5 d.i./$8 t.a.) — hands down my fav item because of how well the wok hei and fish sauce blended together — and Braised Beancurd ($4 d.i./unavailable) — another unexpected star with how tender it was!

(We did get clams ($10/450g) as well from YWR’s (also Thai) partner stall, Ob Woon Sen, but they were quite bland and mediocre. Meh.)

[ Dessert Review ] Was very sullenly sitting in my room still feeling very under the weather and lamenting the lack of sweets at home, when a certain someone came to the rescue with these teeny toothsome treats from 2am:deseertbar!

He sent over two boxes: One was filled with adorable matcha madeleines, and the other with dainty strawberry financiers, with each set containing ten bite-sized, freshly baked — yes you read that right — little cakes (bonus: they don’t have cream on them too ahhh!). At 9pm. Love the modern conveniences of living in a city!

You know how even when you’re dining out, you rarely get the luxury of warm, made-to-order dessert? Now you can get that delivered to your doorstep! What bliss!

The madeleines were fluffy and light without feeling too porous nor spongey; these aren’t like the Japanese variants that are heavy with butter, and overly honeyed — they were sweet enough to satisfy my craving while still letting the slight bitter tinge of matcha shine through!

The financiers — which I tend to prefer, heh — were gorgeous! The strawberry was prominent in every bite without overpowering the cake’s innate almond fragrance; the edges were browned crisp and gave great texture contrast against the moist centre — I struggled to not eat all ten at a go because of how satisfying the eating experience was!

As someone who never found a reason to go to 2am:db, this just tipped my ambivalence over. I’m totally up for paying for well-made sweets (or any food really, heh), I was mainly swayed by naysayers claiming the items here are overpriced and subpar. When we can finally dine out again, you bet a certain someone and I are making a special trip down to enjoy their more elaborate creations!

Selamat Hari Raya! Hope all of you are staying safe amidst the end-of-Ramadan celebrations, and hopefully the occasion is marked by a more peaceful and brighter rest of 2021! For families still keeping an eye out for dining spots for the occasion, why not grab a takeout/delivery from Tambuah Mas?

TM is to no exaggeration, my fam’s most visited Indo restaurant. Part of it is due to its convenient location in Paragon, but the more important reason is how we can get restaurant quality Padang cuisine that actually lives up to our taste memories of Indonesia!

Another thing my dad (and a certain someone) finds endearing about TM is its name, which can be translated as, “more please, server” or “more gold” (which my dad insists is either a play on the quality of food; no objections here!). Given how my fam tends to lay our entire table with way more than we can order, I’d say both meanings are pretty accurate.

Since my fam no longer dines out, this trip was made with a certain someone instead. We ended up getting one variant of my ultimate fav dish here, the Ikan Nila Goreng (I normally prefer Ikan Nila Asam, heh), sayur lodeh (super smooth and lightly sweet), Ikan Teri Belado (anchovies) for that added crunch, and a Sop Buntut Makassar (ox-tail soup) for a certain someone since it’s hard to find (and we all know TM does it well!).

If you’re a fan of Canto “yao zam” (or deep fried in oil) fried fish, time to toss that out the window because t h i s is the real deal: The fish is dipped in oil hot enough to burnish its entirety in brittle bronze, and left long enough to lightly curl its sides so that it creates the illusion of flight. This doesn’t mean the meat is equally leathery — oh no, the insides are still every bit as sweet and succulent! The flash-frying means the skin creates a taut, protective layer that prevents the flavours inside from escaping. If anything, it makes the fish even more delectable.

Everything else was lovely too, but no regrets spending a full post on one dish! If there’s one thing you need to get, it’s defo their Ikan Nila. It's not only a visual spectacle, it’s a gustatory one too!