KUALA LUMPUR, Nov 12 — The fluorescent-lit corners of Pudu at night offer a thousand promises of provision and pleasure, some more loudly than others.
One can scarcely describe any of these places as unassuming or undiscovered anymore; many have a social media presence of their own, or have at least been featured on the big aggregator types, which produce nothing original of their own.
And yet, some surprises remain. Hidden in plain sight.
A stone’s throw from Pudu Plaza, the corner of Jalan Landak and Jalan Kancil is home to Tai Lang Lamb Pot, which specialises in Cantonese-style clay pot lamb brisket, or yeung naam bou.
A speciality of Hong Kong and Macau, it is especially popular in winter. It is characterised by the inclusion of fermented bean curd (both as a base and as a dip) and zhu hou sauce, a Cantonese braising condiment made from fermented soybeans, sesame paste and Chinese five-spice.
Tai Lang has been here just over two years, with an older outpost in Kepong.
But this isn’t what I’d come to try.
I had come for a whole roasted chicken (RM88) from Hong Kee, which began sharing the space around a year ago.
Well, “sharing” is a little generous. Hong Kee’s setup is a single Apollo oven (admittedly, a newer-looking model), a payment counter separate from Tai Lang’s, and a scattering of banners and buntings along one side of the shop.
In principle, it isn’t unlike a roast duck stall in a dai chow, but it’s fun to see the concept play out in a setting so decidedly unlike one.
Hong Kee roasts its chickens to order, so my advice is to call ahead.
You may also be treated to some surprising hospitality from what is essentially an oven and a lectern.
After I booked a chicken for 6.30 p.m., Hong Kee texted at 6 to check whether I was on schedule.
If so, they would fire my order; if not, they would hold off. It’s a nice touch.
We arrived with about ten minutes to go till our chicken was ready, which was plenty of time to settle down and take in the scene.
A trio of men had parked themselves at the table closest to the street, each alternating between bites of chicken, spoons of lamb soup and, quite impressively, long pulls from a cigarette.
Beside us was an old couple, slowly but steadily working their way through a chicken of their own, with no lamb pot in sight.
Our bird announced itself by scent rather than sight.
The faint but unmistakable fragrance of scallions, garlic and chicken fat grew headier as it made its way across the room to us, still piping hot from the oven.
Our server donned a glove and a pair of kitchen scissors to begin carving, letting the rich yellow juices run onto the sheet pan as the bird came apart.
Evenly caramelised with a glistening sheen, the taut skin sported a beautiful bronzed hue, and cracked like glass as the scissors cut through it.
The meatiest, juiciest bite comes from either of the two prized legs, and it is, of course, the best.
Wielding one is enough to make anyone feel like a king.
Even the traditionally drier parts, like the breast, are succulent and moist without feeling like a brine-soaked sponge.
But the real flavour is hidden on the underside of the rib section, where the rub — a mix of garlic, scallions and sand ginger, the milder, more citrusy cousin of ginger — has collected and embedded itself, imparting an emphatically savoury punch to the ribs. Sucking on the bones after cleaning them of meat is like mainlining pure flavour.
Once all the meat has been picked clean, I find myself staring down the lone chicken head, lying in a sheet pan of its own juices.
The neck doesn’t have much meat, but the skin wrapped around it is pure, unadulterated delight, salty and crispy and greasy — a final few bites of indulgence.
And at the very end, the juices and aromatics left in the pan call for a bowl of rice (RM3.50) from Tai Lang to mop it all up.
It can be tempting to order a lamb pot (RM53 for small) to complete your meal, as we did, but I’d only recommend it if you’re in a large group or planning to drink more than a few beers.
Ours suffered from a noticeable lack of oomph of the fermented beancurd, both in the broth and the dip.
Instead of blue cheese-esque funk, the dip was just slightly sharp, and the broth tasted more on the sweet side than anything.
Come for the lamb pot if you must.
But you’ll leave talking about the chicken, and mopping up what’s left of it with a bowl of rice.
Hong Kee Roasted Chicken
Open daily, 12.30pm—10pm
Tel: 014-392 1676
Facebook: Hong Kee Roasted Chicken
Tai Lang Lamb Pot
Open daily, 11.30 a.m. — 12 a.m.
Tel: 03-9226 1386
* This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal.
* Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.
* Follow Ethan Lau on Instagram @eatenlau for more chicken commentary.
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