Char Siew Hustle!

Remember the 2004 hit comedy Kung Fu Hustle directed by Stephen Chow? Remember its famous chain-smoking, curlers-in-hair, landlady?  If she were a real-life person, she would be this hawker lady I met in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia.

She holds court like a dowager, and wields her meat cleaver with bloodthirsty gusto. She swears at her husband, who’s her stall helper, with the choicest Cantonese vulgarities, and repeats your order with a voice as if you were standing 10 metres away from her. Yet, she packs them in; and the crowd doesn’t seem to mind her at all. In fact, they seem to love her.

Her roadside stall is built around a huge tree, and roofed by a makeshift patchwork of large umbrellas and pieces of tarpaulin and canvas. There is no signage whatsoever; just some battered-looking aluminum counters, with slabs of roast meat hanging behind a glass panel. Behind her a huge pot sits on a charcoal stove, containing soup brewed from leftover bones and winter melon. Another pot holds stewed vegetables.

When we arrived for lunch, the tables were filled with mostly office workers. An executive-looking guy in a tie was helping himself to the soup, ladling it gingerly into his bowl from the steaming pot. Otherwise, everyone gave the dowager a wide berth. The husband was hard at work serving and clearing the tables. Listening to the “communication” between the dowager and her husband alone was worth the price of the meal. It consisted of an ear-splitting stream of instructions, curses, profanities, and banter.

We were told the char siew was some of the best around; and it certainly looked the part. Unlike the super-lean char siew that’s mostly served up in these health-conscious times, this char siew looked like it was about 15% fatty, like in the good ol’ days. We noticed the meats were all moving faster than one could say “char siew”, so that by the time we placed our order, the dowager was largely sold out. She looked up at us and declared, “You came late; so you just have to take whatever’s left”, then turned back to her chopping block.

Just then, another customer shouted a request from his table, playfully mimicking the dowager’s tone and manner. She appeared stunned for a millisecond; then to our astonishment, flashed a girlish smile to acknowledge the order!

We helped ourselves to the soup; it tasted nostalgically of the free soup dished out by roadside char siew stalls in Singapore in the 60s. Then, about fifteen minutes later, the meat arrived: a motley platter of char siew chunks, roast pork, and pork ribs. The first bite into the char siew told me why it was so popular, despite the stall owner’s antics.

It was succulent with a slightly burned aroma, tender in the center and crisp on the outside where it was deeply roasted. The meat was well marinated with a hint of malted sugar that came through with each bite. The same flavors and texture applied to the pork ribs. As to the roast pork, its skin was still very crispy despite being so near to closing time; and only the best parts of the pig were used as they yielded better texture and bite.

After the meat had sold out, and realizing we were first-timers at her stall, the dowager stalked over to our table. Oh, oh, we thought; and braced ourselves. Instead, she turned out chirpy and amiable, proclaiming herself Queen of Vulgarity (烂口皇).

She got serious though, when talking about roasting techniques and selecting the right cut of meat. She told us she used only charcoal for roasting – no compromises. Her pride in her work wouldn’t even allow her to keep leftovers for the next day. She would simply increase the size of the portion, when business was slow, to avoid leftovers. Her regular customers, she told us, could detect overnight meat no matter what method she used to “refresh” the stale meat. In fact, just the day before, she chuckled, she had to frantically phone her regulars to come in to help her “clear stock” as a sudden downpour had washed out her lunch business!

It seems that with the lunch crush over, the dowager was a lady transformed. She admitted she had always felt the pressure to make her daily earnings from that one or two hours of afternoon business; and that made her impatient and grouchy. Otherwise, she was obviously fun – and funny. She even talked in a civilized (dare I say, almost wifely?) tone to her old man when he joined us halfway through the conversation! This is one hawker lady I won’t soon forget.

Junction of Jalan Angsoka and Jalan Bedara
Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

Operating hours: Lunch only

Crustacean Pesto Pasta…My Version

I love Hokkien prawn noodle soup. Its broth, especially, smelled heavenly after all those hours of simmering in pork bones, prawn shells and other spices. I ate it often, and any time of day -- breakfast, lunch, dinner, and even supper.

Dried prawn shells - cheap and good

But preparing it at home is not a cheap affair. You need literally tons of prawn shell for the broth. However, on a recent trip to Hong Kong, I found dried prawn shells that cost a fraction of the price of fresh ones.

Five years ago, I had a wonderful rigatoni tossed in crustacean oil prepared by Chef Anderson Ho. To me, it was like prawn noodle ‘ala modern style’ with a more ‘stylo’ touch. Le Papillon, where Chef Anderson served this acclaimed dish, has since closed; but I was lucky to have had a chance to taste it. I even shamelessly pestered Chef Anderson to cook the dish for me at his home – and he did a couple of times!

Prawn roe - washed, dried and roasted

Inspired by its flavors, I attempted my own version of modern-style Prawn Noodle, adapting the Pesto Pasta method from the Italian. Most thrilling was preparing the crustacean oil using the dried prawn shells I bought from Hong Kong, and garlic. I used roasted candlenut instead of pine nuts, to give the recipe an Asian touch, and finished off with dried prawn roe. Just a point to note, however, dried prawn roe is increasingly difficult to find in Hong Kong, and also increasingly expensive -- but just a dash of it adds a different dimension to the dish.

The end product may be a far cry from Chef Anderson’s creation, but I had fun preparing and eating it!

Spaghetti in Crustacean Pesto with Tiger Prawn and Dried Prawn Roe

Angel hair spaghetti    120 g

Water                               2 litres

Salt                                    2 tsp

Tiger prawns                 4, shelled and grilled

Arugula                           20 g

Prawn roe                      ½ tsp

Pepper                            to taste

Crustacean Pesto:

Candlenut                     10

Garlic                              2 cloves

Dried shrimps             5 g, soaked in warm water for 20 mins, and drained

Crustacean oil            100 ml

Salt                                 to taste

Crustacean Oil:

Oil                                   ½ cup

Dried prawn shells   100 g or 300 g of fresh prawn shells/heads

Garlic                             25 g, minced

Tomato paste             2 tbsp

Butter                            80 g                        

Method:

1. Boil salted water for spaghetti.
2. Meanwhile, sauté the candlenuts, dried shrimps, garlic for 10 mintues. Let it cool.
3. Combine fried candlenuts, dried shrimps, garlic, salt, and crustacean oil, and pound into a paste using mortar and pestle.
4. Boil spaghetti according to package instruction, then drain.
5. While boiling the spaghetti, grill prawns until just cooked.
6. Toss spaghetti with prawn pesto thoroughly.
7. Lay some arugula on the plate; follow with spaghetti, grilled prawns, dried prawn roe. Drizzle some crustacean oil before serving.
8. To heighten the dish with a more Asian touch, I included fried garlic as garnishing.

Crustacean Oil:

1. Fry prawn shells in a dry wok until the water evaporates. Add oil and garlic and continue to fry until garlic turns golden brown.
2. Add tomato paste and butter and simmer for 10 minutes.
3. Cool and refrigerate it for 2 days.
4. Drain the shells and keep the crustacean oil.

Maria Virgin Chicken – What a Chicky Comeback!

It was like running into an old friend after many years.

The chicken hanging in front of the hawker stall looked familiar. The lady behind the counter looked familiar. When I approached her, I suddenly realized she used to operate one of the oldest, but now gone, Chinese restaurants in Chinatown -- Sun Nam Tong (新南唐).

Located at the end of Smith Street (next to Neil Road), the two-storey Sun Nam Tong offered dim sum in the morning and ala carte at lunch and dinner. It later relocated to South Bridge Road, directly opposite Yue Hwa Department Store, where it remained until the mid-2000s; by which time, Mdm Siew Pui Yin (萧佩英), the 2^nd generation owner, was helming the restaurant.

The Rose Wine Soy Chicken became the restaurant’s bestseller; however when the building needed overhaul, Ms Siew abruptly closed Sun Nam Tong.

She vanished from the scene for more than 10 years, until, encouraged by friends and investors, she made a return as the chief cook of this hawker stall. The then-famous chicken has also gotten a new name -- Maria Virgin Chicken -- in tribute to Mdm Siew’s sworn sister, the well-known Hong Kong entertainer Maria Cordero.

To my delight, the chicken lived up to its old glory. The sauce was delicately balanced with the right amount of superior soy sauce and mixed herbs. In most cases the herbs would tend to dominate or even overwhelm, but here, the herbs served as complement, and supported or “brought out” the principal flavors of the soy sauce.

Biting into the meat, there was a slight fragrance of Rose wine; the best thing though, was its texture -- tender, springy, and done just barely, with the bone hollows still pink. The meat held its integrity, unlike other chicken rice sellers whose chicken seemed to “disintegrate” into short fibers when bitten into. Mdm Siew proudly claims that she uses fresh, free-range chicken instead of the frozen variety – and that, I think, made all the difference in meat fiber integrity.

Even the rice reminded me of the old days with its “old school” flavor. Instead of the glooey black sauce, or oil-and-soy sauce mix, typically poured onto rice these days, this stall uses a good-grade dark soy sauce with a subtle sweetness. My only gripe would be the chilli sauce, which was garlicky but otherwise bland when I ate there.

A telling observation was how adept Mdm Siew was with the chopping knife. She must had been a very hands-on “towkay neo” (boss lady) at her old illustrious restaurant! The chicken bones she severed with her knife were cut cleanly through, without the splintering often seen in bones cut by less experienced hands.

All said, I was overjoyed that an old (and I thought, forever lost) taste had been rekindled, and a top-notch veteran restaurateur was back in action.

Maria Virgin Chicken (玛俐亚处女鸡)

#02-176 Chinatown Complex

335 Smith Street

Singapore

Sheung Wan – My Special Corner of Hong Kong

I’m sure you know what I mean… to know a place as a tourist, or even a frequent visitor, is very, very different from knowing it when you actually live there. So it was with me, and Sheung Wan.

This area of Hong Kong -- called Sheung Wan -- was the place you went to when you wanted some Chinese antiques, or some old trinket as souvenir. Period. That was how I thought of Sheung Wan for many years -- years when I was but a visitor, though a frequent one, to Hong Kong. That changed when Hong Kong became my home in 2007.

Practical considerations dictated my choice of Sheung Wan: it was walking distance to where I worked; rents were cheaper there than they were in nearby Mid Levels; and I loved the many old walk-up apartments in the area. I came to live in Sheung Wan for three years; years when I got to know quite intimately its nooks and crannies; its denizens; its moods, textures and contrasts…

Possession Street sits on the earliest settlement that was established by the British in Hong Kong in1842. In fact, the spot at the foot of the street called Possession Point marked the shoreline; but it is now several hundred yards inland due to reclamation.

By day, Hollywood Road and its side streets bustle with tourists and antique shoppers. Cat Street, the alley with the bulk of antique shops, attracts the droves: from the flea market bargain hunter, to the connoisseur who willingly parts with a small fortune for a prized Chinese antique.

Possession Street is getting a more modern face

The famous Man Mo Temple is also in Sheung Wan. The largest temple in Hong Kong devoted to the two deities, Man Tai and Mo Tai, and built in 1847, Man Mo acts like a sounding bell to me. Whenever I see a long snaking line of worshippers outside the temple doors, or the armada of cars parked on the road, I am instantly alerted to the occurrence of another of the seemingly endless stream of Chinese festivals in Hong Kong!

A glass-skinned skyscraper stands elbow-to-elbow with this 150-year old temple, dwarfing it and underscoring another of Sheung Wan’s charms – its piquant contrasts.

One moment, you may be wandering a warren of ancient roadside wet market stalls; the next, you’re in the midst of bars, restaurants, and the super-hip vibes of two of Hong Kong’s most cosmopolitan swing spots, Lan Kwai Fong and SOHO.

A five-minute walk from my apartment takes you to Connaught Road West and Des Voeux. I always tell friends: follow your nose, and the potent trail of smell will lead you to this hub of dried seafood shops. You’ll find sharks’ fins and dried seahorse by the sack, and an industry that has dominated this clutch of narrow streets for more than 100 years; and, just a ten-minute crawl away, the ultramodern towers and chic designer boutiques of Central!

Even day and night in Sheung Wan feel absolutely different. By day it’s all noise, bustle, and crowds; by night the only sign of life are stray cats and the occasional patrolling policeman. Even looking for a late night snack is a challenge come witching hour; the lone 24-hr McDonalds in Sheung Wan has become my best friend. Well, at least, this has busted one preconception that I (and I think most Singaporeans) have about Hong Kong – that it is definitely NOT a “you-can-find-food-24/7” kind of place if you, like me, don’t own a set of wheels!

Although not as generously endowed with knockout eateries as some other districts of Hong Kong, Sheung Wan has its glories. Several neighborhood restaurants and “cha chan tengs” amply deserve royal mention. In fact, Sheung Wan has some of the best traditional Teochew restaurants in Hong Kong. So, let’s bring out the chopsticks!

For Kee Restaurant (科记咖啡餐厅)

200 Hollywood Road

Tel: 852-2546 8947

This small 20-seat shop tucked on a side street does such brisk business on its famous pork chop rice it operates only between Monday and Friday – a luxury few eateries in Hong Kong can afford. Marinated with only soy sauce and sugar, the pan-fried pork chop packs them in every lunch. 

Without the crowds, you wouldn’t give this otherwise nondescript nook a second glance – that’s often the thing about Hong Kong food stalls. I also like their home-boiled soup, which changes daily. The soup’s free of msg -- another rarity for a neighborhood mom-&-pop joint.

Chan Kan Kee Chiu Chow Restaurant (陈勤记卤鹅饭店)

Ground Floor, 11 Queen’s Road West

Sheung Wan, Hong Kong

Tel: 852-2858 0033

This restaurant serves one of the best Teochew braised goose that I’ve ever tasted in Hong Kong. Was told the sauce that’s used to cook the goose is decades-old; the very elderly founder simply stirs in the new sauce on top of the old, thus giving to the meat an aged and mellow flavor. If you order a plate of braised meat with rice, look out for the accompanying preserved radish appetizer. It’s spicy and crunchy, with tiny bits of dried shrimps and meat in it. Yum!

My personal highlight, however, is the mixed pig innards in watercress soup. I used to enjoy this soup in Singapore until pig lungs and blood were banned. Without these two key ingredients, this soup has never tasted the same in Singapore; but at this restaurant, the familiar taste and aroma return in their full glory.

This place opens way past midnight

Full House Kitchen (满小厨)

Ground Floor, 13 Queen’s Road West

Sheung Wan, Hong Kong

Their ala-carte food is not much to shout about; but the variety of porridge on offer is fantastic. The porridge is gluey in texture and filled with the so-called “breath of rice” and generous servings of meat. Best of all, they are open till 2am, making it a great supper joint in this part of Hong Kong where most shops close by 10pm

Our first taste of Teochew food in HK

Shung Hing Chiu Chow Restaurant (尚兴潮州饭店)

Ground Floor, 37 Queen’s Road West

Sheung Wan, Hong Kong

Tel: 852-2543 7794

Another favourite Teochew restaurant of mine; but be prepared to pay much more. Beside the famed braised meat, and ala carte dishes such as fried prawn roll, and yam paste with ginko nut, I love the chilled flower crab that’s served here. You’ll pay around S$140 for each big and succulent crab, but they are so much bigger than those you’ll find in Teochew porridge stalls in Singapore.

Zhong Kok Loong (中国龙)

Ground Floor, 283 Queen’s Road Central

Tel: 852-3158 0203

The owner actually deals in antiques and makes frequent business trips to China. Along the way, he developed contacts with the mainland food industry, and now, he imports produce from the best quality suppliers that he could find for his shop in Hong Kong. I frequent his shop for top quality sesame oil, preserved black beans, yam from Fujian, Fuji apples from Mongolia, and other premium stuff.

Because the produce he sells is mainly seasonal, you never know what you’ll find here. Be warned however that prices are not cheap, but worth every cent.

Lin Heung Kui (莲香居)

2-3/F, 46-50 Des Voeux Road West

Sheung Wan, Hong Kong

Tel: 852-2156 9238

A “subsidiary” of its much famed and much older parent restaurant -- Lin Heung Tea House at 160-164, Wellington Road -- and only ten minutes’ walk away. It evokes the same nostalgia. Old men carry on loud discourses with one another and huddle over their newspapers. Waiters in white-and-black uniforms carry steaming copper kettles to refill empty teapots and cups, and waitresses in aprons weave through the tables pushing trolleys of dim sum.

You get mostly locals here unlike the tourist hordes at the parent restaurant, and I didn’t have to keep a lookout for the food trolleys and wrestle with other customers for the baskets. I always enjoy the more relaxed atmosphere here, and the dim sum, which I daresay, is better than the other restaurant’s. Look out for “wor bao”, once available in Singapore during 60s but long vanished, and now, also a rare treat in Hong Kong.

At night, this restaurant serves ala carte Cantonese dishes of fairly high standard.

Soon Hing Hung (顺兴行)

61 Wing Lok Street

It is rumored that a famous roast goose restaurant in Central gets its supply of famous century eggs from this tiny provision shop. It’s so shabby looking you might walk right past it; the door is half-opened with stacks of cardboard cartons lining the entrance, manned by a grouchy old woman. She sells all kinds of eggs – fresh, salted, and of course, the famous century eggs.

The eggs are far cheaper than those sold in the restaurants; and their quality is as good or far better than most.

Assorted braised offal on sticks

Sun Seng Koon (新成馆)

87 Wing Lok Street

One of those stalls where you stand by the road and chew on meat-laden skewers, these stalls are a mainstay of the HK roadside scene. I pass by this one daily and never gave it a second look until KC Koo, a noted food critic, recommended its braised pig intestines on skewers. It proved cheap and simply delectable -- now I’m hooked.

Where Would We Be…Without Ellice Handy?

The dining industry, as we know it, has changed beyond all recognition. Today, cooking is an art form and cultural phenomena that has spawned “culinary personalities” and “domestic goddesses” and even sex symbols.

TV channels now devote themselves entirely to food; and food blogs garner followings of millions. People travel the world to eat at famous restaurants and to have their pictures taken with “superstar” chefs. Cooking schools teach to sellout classes and we buy cookbooks just so we can ogle at lavish photographs of food.

In Singapore, chefs like Emmanuel Stroobant, Sam Leong, and Chef Wan are household names on TV and writers of popular cookbooks. Before them, there was Violet Oon, Terry Tan, and Wendy Hutton; and even earlier, Mrs Lee Chin Koon, Mrs Leong Yee Soo, Tham Yui Kai, and Ellice Handy. Ellice who?

Poster girl in the 80s

Ellice Handy is a name all but forgotten today. She was one of the first – if not the first – person in Singapore to write a cookbook under her own name. And, her little book stood as the bible for home cooking in Singapore long before the likes of Mrs Lee and Mrs Leong came along.

There’s not much to be found about her life on the Internet; she was, apparently, the first Asian principal of Methodist Girls’ School in the period after the Second World War. In 1952, to raise funds for school building, she wrote and published the cookbook, My Favourite Recipes by Ellice Handy. (Ellice Handy’s book predated Julia Child’s seminal Mastering the Art of French Cooking, which appeared in 1961, by nine years!)

My Favourite Recipes went into several editions; but sadly, it has been out of print for many years now. As far as I could discover, that was the only book Ellice Handy ever wrote. When I was publisher, I tried to resurrect this historic cookbook, hoping it would find an appreciative audience among the younger generation. We tried to contact her family to seek permission to republish, but were not able to trace any surviving relatives.

1970 Edition of the book

Ellice Handy also contributed recipes to local magazines and appeared in product endorsements in printed advertisements. Seemed she was the Nigella Lawson of her time!

Flipping through the book, with its jotter-like paper and archaic print, you feel as though you’re looking at recipes that have appeared in print for the very first time – and you probably are! “Mee Siam”, “Fish Ball Soup”, “Fried Curry Puffs”…they’re all here, like old familiar friends. Many of the dishes are still with us, while some have vanished; but one gets a sense of the first stirrings of a culinary identity that is, truly, Singaporean.

As she herself was not a trained chef, Ellice Handy’s recipes were simple and straightforward enough to be replicated without much difficulty at home. And, in the unique style of Singaporean society (or government policy? – one wonders), the book features a multi-ethnic roster of Indian, Malay, Chinese, and Eurasian, as well as western, recipes.

So, on our 46^th National Day, I’d like to render a modest tribute to a special lady and her pioneering book, and hope her culinary contribution to posterity would become better known. Here’s the coconut candy I first came to know about from her book. I adored it as a child, especially its “lemak” (Malay for “rich”) caramel taste and texture of grated coconut.

 Coconut Candy

Coconut                      3 cups, grated

Sugar                          2½ cups

Evaporated milk         ¾ cup

Butter                         1 tsp

Salt                             a pinch

Vanilla paste              1 tsp (optional)

Pandan leaves            2 leaves (optional)

Method:

1. Mix all the ingredients and cook under low heat until the sugar has dissolved (if you have added pandan leaves, remove them once the sugar has melted). Stir constantly to prevent from burning, and increase the heat once the sugar has melted.
2. Cook the mixture until it attains a lumpy consistency that doesn’t cling to the side of the pan.
3. Once the mixture begins to caramelize (turn brownish), add vanilla (the original recipe uses vanilla, but if you want a more Asian flavor, you can use pandan leaves instead of vanilla) and stir thoroughly. Do not over-cook or the mixture will harden due to caramelization of sugar. If that happens, just add a bit of evaporated milk to soften the texture again.
4. Pour the candy into a pan that has been lightly greased with butter. Without pressing the candy, use a wooden spoon to spread it out evenly on the pan, leaving a roughly level surface.
5. When it has cooled slightly, cut into pieces with a knife but do not separate the pieces.
6. Once hardened, simply break the candy into pieces with your hand.

Where the Oyster Plant Once Grew

The spot in Chinatown where the Kreta Ayer Theatre stands used to be a grass-covered hilltop with a park. I remember roaming that hilltop to play on its swings and seesaw, hunt grasshoppers, and scrounge for earthworms – there was so much for a 6-year-old to do in that little park! The time was the 1960s.

Also on the hill was a community center that housed one of the few televisions in the neighborhood; the young and old were drawn to that TV like moths to a flame every night. There was also a crèche where working parents would leave their kids during the day. When evening fell, old folks would gather in the park to enjoy the breeze.

I remember an old storyteller, who would sit with a kerosene lamp and narrate tales in Cantonese from classics such as The Three Kingdoms and Journey to the West. For a small fee, you could rent a tiny stool from him on which to listen. During intervals in the story, he would wind his way through the crowd holding a milk can. Clink! clink! -- in went the small change. He was probably the first busker Singapore ever had!

During the Hungry Ghosts festivities that occupied the Chinese 7^th lunar month, huge wood-and-canvas tents would rise on the hill. Beneath these tents you’d come face-to-face with colorful paper effigies of Chinese deities that stood as tall as 4 meters or more. They would be accompanied by joss sticks, just as tall, and shaped like gargantuan firecrackers with small figurines on wires studded on its surface. As a kid I would surreptitiously pry these figurines loose when no one was watching, and bring them home to play and to display.

Some tents were built to stage grand Cantonese operas. In those days it was common to have famous opera artistes specially brought in from Hong Kong to perform. It was believed these performances would provide entertainment for the dead; but the living seemed to benefit more. There would be proper seating for members of the sponsoring clan or association and its guests, but scores of other folks from the neighborhood would bring their “unofficial” seats – stools, benches, and even wooden crates -- and plant them permanently on the ground for the duration of the sometimes weeks-long theater.

In time the opera performances were no longer limited to the 7^th lunar month; the tent became a permanent stage, and later still a theater was built.

There was a patch of hillside where the flower, rhoeo discolor, (common name: oyster plant) grew abundantly. I used to harvest these flowers to bring home to dry in the shade for a couple of days. I would boil them with rock sugar and winter melon candies. Folks believed the flower was good for the throat and helped reduce thirst, but I loved them simply for their unique flavor. Sometimes, I used them as base for agar agar and jello; however, the oyster plant is hard to find in the market. You might occasionally find the leaves of the plant but its flowers are virtually non-existent, so you might need to grow them yourself.

Much has changed to the hill and its park. The low-rise buildings that surrounded it have been replaced with the present HDB blocks; the hill has been all but flattened, and today you wouldn’t even think that a hill once stood there.

Rhoeo Discolor Drink

Rhoeo Discolor                                 120 g

Water                                                 2.5 litres

Winter melon Candies                     100 g

Honey Rock Sugar                            100 g  

It is commonly known as 蚌花 in Chinese

Method:

1. Boil the leaves, melon candies, and water for 1½ hours.
2. Add honey rock sugar and adjust according to taste.
3. Serve it hot or cold.

A Masterclass with Sin Leong

Masterchef Sin Leong (left)

They were known as the “Four Heavenly Kings” of Singapore cuisine. Collectively, they fathered Cantonese food in Singapore as we know it today.

And, if I had any “idols” while growing up as a greedy food-obsessed teenager – it would be these four men.

Masterchefs Tham Yew Kai, Sin Leong, Lau Yoke Pui and Hooi Kok Wai arose from the culinary milieu of 1950s and 60s Singapore, and went on to establish some of the most famous and foundational Chinese restaurants of their generation. The four men met in the 1950s while working in the kitchen of the Cathay Restaurant, at the time the most prestigious fine dining Chinese restaurant in Singapore. The head chef of the restaurant had taken them under his wing; and when he died in 1962, the four left the Cathay and went separate ways.

Chefs Tham and Lau founded a small restaurant at Tiong Bahru. Chef Hooi and his wife opened a 20-table restaurant at the Metropole Cinema (the present Fairfield Methodist Church). And Chef Sin started a cooking school in Geylang with his wife.

Even though they were running separate but similar businesses, a brotherly camaraderie prevailed. And the four made it a point not to sell the same dishes so as to minimize competition.

Chefs Tham and Lau have since passed away; but their illustrious legacies live on, and are built upon by their two surviving friends. I’ll give Chef Sin his due in this post, and Chef Hooi his at a later date.

The first business venture of Chef Sin Leong, his cooking school, was located at Lorong 23 in Geylang. Today in his 80s, the chef described how the 20 or so students he taught would surround him closely to observe his cooking demonstrations. He invited some of his friends who were chefs to guest at his school. Among them were a Malay cuisine chef and a Western cuisine chef, and from them, he himself learned the use of spices and the making of sauces.

To supplement his earnings, Chef Sin along with two assistants would drive a mobile kitchen, actually a modified van, around the Kallang area where the National Stadium once stood. Eventually a hawker license officer advised him to start a restaurant, and kindly allowed him to apply for the restaurant license after he had got his business going and saved enough money to pay for the license.

The Sin Leong Restaurant was opened in 1965, and by the 1980s had grown to three branches. Among Chef Sin’s famed creations are the USA Duck, Crystal Prawn, and Siamese Chicken.

Chef Hooi Kok Wai, the youngest of the four, founded the Dragon Phoenix Restaurant in 1963. Later, in the 1970s, the four men together established the Red Ruby and Red Star restaurants. The Dragon Phoenix and Red Star still remain today.

Needless to say, all the above restaurants were my favorites, growing up. I’ve lost count of the weddings, birthdays, and other celebrations of family, relatives, and friends I’ve attended at these restaurants. Even today, I’d celebrate with Steve whenever there’s an occasion, with Crispy Fried Chicken and Yam Basket at Red Star.

Notes from the master's hand

So, imagine my surprise and delight when I bumped into Masterchef Sin Leong himself at Red Star the other day! After a short hello, the sprightly octogenarian spent the next half-hour regaling me with stories of his early career, and sharing precious cooking advice. What a sterling masterclass! Wanting more, I quickly arranged another interview barely 18 hours later. Not at all fazed by the short notice, he presented himself at that interview armed with a sheaf of hand-written notes, and, to my surprise, several dishes that he had prepared himself.

Here are the highlights of the interview:

My version of Yu Sheng. Photos (above & below right) by Isaac Lau.

How Yu Sheng was created in 1964

As they say: this is from the horse’s mouth. Even though the four heavenly kings ran separate businesses, they met frequently. On one such occasion the table talk turned to ways to increase business and revenue during the upcoming Chinese New Year. Chef Hooi and his wife broached the idea of a raw fish dish, as they had observed different versions of raw fish being served when they recently traveled in Malaysia. The Cantonese and Teochew, for instance, served recipes that were very simple in preparation and presentation, they said.

Nowadays, salmon and carp are used instead of Ikan Parang.

The four agreed a raw fish dish was a good idea. However, theirs had to be much more elaborate in order to command a higher price. And they got to work.

On Chinese New Year 1964, in a smart marketing move, Yu Sheng was launched simultaneously at all the restaurants of the four chefs. However, the initial reaction wasn’t what they had expected – it was lukewarm at best. Some people even hated the dish.

Undeterred, the chefs continued to improve the recipe and to cajole customers, even resorting to giving the dish free to regulars to “educate” them. It took almost six years before the dish finally became a hit. Then the rest of the restaurant bandwagon in Singapore jumped on! But history had been made.

Crystal Prawn: a tasting portion specially prepared by the masterchef

Two classic creations

The oddly-named USA Duck was inspired by a visit Sin Leong made to the US to see his son. When he looked at the frozen duck at American supermarkets, he realized the meat was more tender and lean than the Singapore variety. He introduced USA Duck in 1978, and created a special sauce to complement the crispy duck. The other classic creation of Sin Leong is the Crystal Prawn, which owes its semi-transparent, crunchy texture to a well-guarded and highly skilled cooking technique. These two dishes are served at Red Star Restaurant, which was founded by the four chefs in 1974 at Chin Swee Road.

Red Star Restaurant
Blk 54 Chin Swee Road
#07-23
Singapore
Tel: (65) 6532 5266

Dancing with the Stars at The Ivy

“You must do The Ivy, dear; you simply muuust…” my friends cooed when they heard I would be visiting Los Angeles. “OK lah,” I thought to myself, “since I’ve also read so much about the place…why not check it out?”

So, on my i-Phone, under “Must-See”, in went “Ivy”. I knew it would be easier landing on the moon than getting a table at this LA legend.

House signature: Ivy Gimlet

“Guess what?” my Californian friend, Elsa Schelin, said when I arrived in LA, “twisted a few arms; we’re go for lunch this Wednesday, The Ivy.” I almost exploded, but managed a dignified: “Yeah, really? The Ivy? Cool; owe you one, girl.”

The reservation was made days in advance; and we were running late on the day. “I’ve already called to move the time forward twice, honey,” Elsa intoned, as we hurried the last few meters, “the guy at the other end was such a bitch”.

We arrived; and after about ten minutes in line, were shown to our table. I sat down; and I looked at the people at the tables and in the waiting line. Now I knew what the fuss was all about.

It was like a spread from Vogue -- Pradas, Guccis, LVs, as far as the eye could see. Everyone looked and behaved like a model. I spotted a couple of bags swinging on the signature white picket fence, tossed as carelessly as you would some crappy old backpack; they were Chanel (current season, no less!).

Crab Cakes with Tartar Sauce

Under such “pressure”, I had to fight an overwhelming urge to rush back to my hotel, and change…you see, my Dolce & Gabbana shirt was one season late!

The open-air terrace in front of the restaurant was, apparently, the epicenter of people- and celebrity-watching. That was where we sat. On the other side of the road, right across from us, cohorts of paparazzi permanently stood by, ready to strike. Because you never know who might just pop in for lunch: Brad Pitt, Jack Nicholson, Jennifer Lopez, Jessica Alba…

Guacamole with Homemade Tortillas

For all that ultra-glam, the inside of the restaurant was surprisingly low-key. Some of you might even find the homey tavern-like interior familiar, because the restaurant had starring scenes in several Hollywood movies, such as the one in 1995’s Get Shorty in which Danny DeVito and John Travolta over-ordered a meal and then abandoned it.

The Ivy’s menu is not extensive, being basically American cuisine with influences of Louisiana and Cajun. As usual with a first time visit, I stuck to the specials of the day and the signature dishes. The flavors were robust, the ingredients very fresh, and the presentation was tasteful but decidedly home-style casual – very Nigella. But hey, who was there for the food anyway?

The waiters themselves were serious eye candy. They’re just there, I thought, waiting for that lucky break in Tinsel Town. That guy with the dark tousle serving the plate of poached salmon…could he be the next Orlando Bloom? And that athletic-looking guy with straw-colored hair behind the counter…a Matt Damon-in-waiting?

Crab Meat Sandwich

People were shmoozing and there was lots of air-kissing and table-hopping all around. A man in drainpipe jeans looked suspiciously 70-ish but had a face as tight as the skin on my buttocks. He sidled by, like he was some lithe young model on the catwalk, but his calcified gait gave him away.

Old-Fashioned Red Velvet Cake

The Ivy had cast its spell -- I had on my best American “accent” and speaking louder than I normally would, and I was waving my hands around a bit too much. I didn’t realize all this, until Elsa turned around and hissed: “Drama queen!” 

Like I said, who goes to The Ivy for the food?

The Ivy

113N Robertson Blvd, Los Angeles

CA 90048

Tel: (310) 274-8303

Note: Reservations are a must. Try and ask for a table at the open-air patio in summer, or near the fireplace in the front dining room during winter. These are the best seats for seeing and being seen. Expect to spend around US$100 per person for lunch, inclusive of drinks.