SHAH ALAM, Nov 7  — What appears to be a

plate of pasta reveals an unexpected ingredient upon closer inspection: salted mackerel.

Ikan masin meets Italian pasta, anyone?

Unusual for some menus, maybe, but par for the course at Kopimeo x La Carne in Shah Alam, an all-day dining restaurant marrying the familiar comforts of a neighbourhood café and the more adventurous flavours of fusion cooking.

For owners Meor Azlan Bin Che Saffry and Ili Bazlina Razmi (Iena), running a restaurant together as a husband-and-wife team has meant learning to follow their instincts.

Kopimeo x La Carne in Shah Alam is run by Meor Azlan Bin Che Saffry and Ili Bazlina Razmi (Iena). — Pictures courtesy of Kopimeo x La Carne

Yes, even when that means chimichurri steak and calzones share a table with salted egg yolk chicken and soft-shell crab creamy tom yum.

(Perhaps especially when it means that.)

Before venturing into food and beverage, Meor worked as a 3D visualiser in the oil and gas industry, while Iena was involved in advertising and multimedia development.

In 2014, Meor began experimenting with cold brew at home, bottling it to share with colleagues. Their interest soon turned into a business opportunity.

“Shah Alam had very few cafés back then, so we saw an opportunity to create a neighbourhood café,” says Meor. “Eventually, we both left our jobs to commit to the business full-time.”

Chimichurri steak. — Picture courtesy of Kopimeo x La Carne

The couple subsequently expanded their ambitions. In 2018, when an adjoining end-lot unit became available, they seized the opportunity to launch La Carne, a separate concept offering English Sunday roast, Peruvian-style chicken, wood-fired pizzas and pastas infused with Malaysian ingredients.

The two businesses, however, eventually presented a different set of challenges.

“After about two years of operating both businesses, the economic climate became increasingly challenging, and we had to make some difficult decisions,” Meor recalls.

“Sales were becoming increasingly inconsistent and declining, and we had three kids to think about too. We had to be realistic about the financial pressure of keeping two outlets running.”

Calzone and pizzas. — Picture courtesy of Kopimeo x La Carne

Rather than persist with two separate operations, the couple decided to relinquish one shop lot and consolidate both concepts under one roof.

The result was Kopimeo x La Carne, combining the neighbourhood café atmosphere of Kopimeo with La Carne’s more adventurous approach to food. The move also reduced overheads and simplified team management, allowing them to concentrate their staff and resources in one space.

For Meor, the experience reinforced an important lesson about entrepreneurship: enthusiasm for food is not enough to sustain a business.

“Loving food and running an F&B business are two very different things. Passion alone isn’t enough; you also have to understand cash flow, manage people and control costs,” he says.

It is a lesson that has informed their approach to the menu, too, particularly Iena’s experiments with combining Western cooking techniques and local flavours.

Spicy Beef Stroganoff (left). Salmon Belly Thai Red Curry (right). — Pictures courtesy of Kopimeo x La Carne

Her culinary curiosity was shaped in part by her father, who experimented with ingredients while living abroad, finding substitutes that brought familiar Malaysian flavours into unfamiliar dishes.

“When he was living abroad, he experimented with whatever ingredients he had available,” she says. “He might add ikan masin to a pasta dish in place of anchovies, or dried chillies to a beef stew for a more familiar Malaysian kick.”

That playful spirit eventually found its way into Kopimeo x La Carne’s signature dishes. From their Russian inspired Spicy Beef Stroganoff to the cold-smoked Gulai Lemak Daging Berasap, there’s always a bit of East meets West going on.

Even an ingredient as ubiquitous as salmon can be reinvented: the Salmon Belly Thai Red Curry is full of Siamese flair while the Grilled Salmon Portuguese Sambal borrows from Malaccan Portuguese cuisine.

Gulai Lemak Udang Linguine (left). Grilled Salmon Portuguese Sambal (right). — Pictures courtesy of Kopimeo x La Carne

Sometimes the biggest transformation comes from switching things up ever slightly.

“In 2015, we came up with the Gulai Lemak Udang Linguine because I wanted to try using santan rather than cream in my pasta and somehow, it worked!” says Iena.

The dish also incorporates prawns and homemade lemongrass oil in place of olive oil, bringing together elements of local cooking and Italian pasta.

Then there is the aforementioned Spicy Salted Fish Pasta, inspired by her father’s habit of crumbling salted fish over pasta. At the restaurant, salted mackerel takes the place of anchovies, while daun kesum replaces parsley.

Desserts don’t fail to delight either: Expect crunchy cornflakes-crusted French toast, ice cream sandwiches and apam balik toasties.

For Iena, however, fusion is not simply a matter of combining ingredients from contrasting culinary traditions.

“My approach is to explore various cuisines and cooking techniques, then find ways to make certain flavours work for our local audience without losing the character of the original dish,” she explains.

Ultimately fusion food shouldn’t be fancy or finicky, but rather taste like home.

She adds, “It’s not about changing a dish just for the sake of fusion, but understanding how different ingredients and flavours can complement one another.”

Desserts include crunchy cornflakes-crusted French toast and ice cream sandwiches. — Picture courtesy of Kopimeo x La Carne

Not all recipes worked, of course. A combination might sound promising on paper, but it must function as a complete dish before earning a place on the menu.

“We taste, tweak and taste again,” Iena says.

That same attention to consistency extends beyond the kitchen. Meor says the couple listens to customers, observing what they order repeatedly, what they return for and where improvements are needed.

Their aim is to maintain a balance between familiarity and discovery, giving regulars reasons to return while encouraging them to try something new.

“Customers may come in for a particular dish or something they’ve seen on social media, but what makes them return is often the overall experience: somewhere comfortable to meet friends or bring their families,” says Meor.

“Some customers who came to Kopimeo when they were younger now bring their own children. We don’t take that loyalty for granted.”

That sense of continuity is particularly meaningful for a business built around the idea of a neighbourhood gathering place. A meal, a conversation over coffee or simply a little time away from a busy day can become part of the experience customers remember.

The opening of their second branch in Elmina has brought another challenge: maintaining the identity of the original outlet while responding to a different neighbourhood.

Meor says expansion is not simply a matter of reproducing a successful formula. Each location has its own customer preferences, which influence everything from best-selling dishes to stock and purchasing decisions.

A central kitchen prepares the restaurant’s main sauces and marinades, helping standardise flavours across both outlets while making daily operations more manageable. Even so, the team continues to learn what works best in Elmina.

“Some dishes that are popular in Shah Alam don’t necessarily perform the same way in Elmina, and vice versa,” says Meor. “What works in one place won’t automatically work in another, so we let customers’ preferences guide our decisions.”

Kopimeo x La Carne is built around the idea of a neighbourhood gathering place. — Pictures courtesy of Kopimeo x La Carne

Recognising each other’s strengths helps when they are working together as spouses. Meor tends to focus on operations and commercial considerations, while Iena brings her creative instincts to the food and menu.

“Work can follow you home when you’re in business together,” says Iena. “We don’t always need to agree, but we do need to respect each other’s perspectives.”

Looking back, Meor believes he would approach the business differently if given another chance.

“I’d probably start with just one or two really good menu items and focus on perfecting them before expanding,” he says. “Doing fewer things exceptionally well can be much more valuable than trying to do too many things at once.”

For the couple and, indeed, their customers, Kopimeo x La Carne is more than simply coffee or creative plates of pasta. It has become a space where everyone can feel at ease, share a meal of familiar flavours while discovering something fresh too.

Kopimeo x La Carne — Seksyen 9

33, Jalan Tengku Ampuan Zabedah B 9/B, 

Seksyen 9, Shah Alam

Open daily (except Fri closed) 8:30am–7pm

Phone: 03-5886 2643

Kopimeo x La Carne — Elmina

41, Jalan Frekuensi AF, 

U16/AF, Elmina, 

Seksyen U16, Shah Alam

Open daily (except Fri closed) 10am–10pm

Phone: 03-7840 0326

Web: https://kopimeo.my/

IG: https://www.instagram.com/kopimeo_x_lacarne/

FB: https://www.facebook.com/kopimeo/

For more food fables and café chronicles, visit Life for Beginners.

COMMENTARY, Nov 6 — On Wednesday, November 4, the Michelin Guide unveiled its 2027 selection for Kuala Lumpur and Penang, and for the first time, nasi kandar made the list.

It was the latest in a string of improbable events that day: a rare Manchester United win, and a historic blue wave in the American midterms, with Democrats flipping long-held red states like South Carolina, Texas and even Kansas.

The last time Kansas had a Democratic senator, Dorothy had yet to be swept out of the state by a tornado; The Wizard of Oz reached cinemas the year that senator left office.

It all felt as if the stars had aligned.

And while most of the attention will naturally go to the christening of a new star, it is the belated arrival of nasi kandar that matters most.

It’s no secret that since the guide landed on our shores in 2022, local reception to each selection has been mixed, to say the least.

The consensus seems to be that “we know better”, and that only hapless tourists follow the guide.

And the scepticism isn’t entirely unfounded.

The Michelin Guide has made its share of missteps in Malaysia, both subjective and objective; who can forget a closed restaurant making the list last year?

Every year, omissions and inclusions spark the same debates: entertaining, occasionally heated, rarely cogent.

So why does the omission, then inclusion, of nasi kandar matter so much?

Because it was a glaring one.

A guide to food in Penang without nasi kandar is like a guide to Naples without pizza, or Mexico City without tacos: it isn’t just incomplete; it undermines the credibility of the guide itself.

Nasi kandar is as distinct to Penang as any of those dishes are to those cities.

Its Indian Muslim, pole-carried origins are inextricably tied to Penang’s history as a diverse, multi-ethnic port city with a significant immigrant population.

To some, the omission, year after year, was just proof that the inspectors didn’t know where the good stuff was.

But on a deeper level, it was troubling because the dismissal of a dish, or blanket ignorance of something as culturally resonant as nasi kandar, can feel like a rejection of the people.

A food guide, especially when tied to a place, stirs up all kinds of pride and honour, both personal and tribal, among its residents.

Getting a guide right isn’t just a question of knowing where to find “good” food.

It’s a question of accurate representation, and the lack of it is the erasure of an important part of Penang’s history.

That it took until the fifth edition is appalling, but the stars, it seems, have finally begun to right this wrong.

It is, however, just a start.

Hameediyah may be the oldest nasi kandar restaurant in the country, but today it is more associated with expense than enjoyment.

It and Deens Maju are just two of many nasi kandar joints waiting, not to be discovered, but to be brought before a global audience.

Which illuminates the bigger issue: it isn’t the guide’s mistakes that matter most; it’s what we lose by writing it off.

The idea that Malaysians don’t need a red-bound guide to tell us where to eat in our own country is fair enough; we have eaten well for generations without one.

But it conflates two questions: whether we need it to know where to eat, and whether we need it to be seen.

The Michelin Guide remains the most widely recognised food guide in the world, and for many travellers, a listing is the reason a city becomes part of the itinerary at all.

It doesn’t tell us where to eat; it tells the rest of the world where to look.

And what alternative do we have to offer?

We are a nation of eaters who have let influencers with paid partnerships and unreliable crowd-sourced ratings tell us where to eat.

Until we produce a guide with the reach and international reputation to rival it, the Michelin Guide remains our best bet for spreading the good word of Malaysian food culture to the rest of the world, lest we be happy letting Singapore continue to upstage us.

It is telling that in the same year Singapore marked a decade of the guide with a lavish ceremony, the fifth edition for Kuala Lumpur and Penang was released with no ceremony at all.

If the guide matters as much as I think it does, that is not a detail to shrug off.

It took long enough for nasi kandar to have its day.

I hope I don’t have to wait another five years before Hokkien mee — the KL version, obviously — makes it on the list.

Or we will all continue to suffer the indignity of hearing all about how Singapore is such a great food destination, while our proclamations fall on deaf ears.

* The author previously engaged in freelance editorial work with the Michelin Guide, but is not affiliated with the Michelin Guide. This is the personal opinion of the author and does not necessarily represent the views of Malay Mail.

** Find Ethan Lau on Instagram here: @eatenlau

SUBANG JAYA, Nov 5 — Getting siew yoke right is harder than it looks. At The Roast Meat Shop in Sunway Geo, Harry Fong found that achieving crisp crackling was only part of the challenge; getting it consistently crisp across an entire piece of roast pork was another matter.

“One of our biggest challenges was translating our home-cooking recipes into something that could be prepared consistently in a restaurant,” Fong says. “It took me about half a year of recipe development, ingredient sourcing and repeated testing to find the right ingredients and combinations for our siew yoke and char siew.”

“Some sections would turn out beautifully crispy, while others would not crackle properly. Sometimes, the skin would even become rubbery after a while. We had to keep experimenting and refining our roasting process to improve the consistency.”

The shop’s signature siew yoke uses a marinade combining Western and traditional herbs, followed by a traditional roasting method.

The Roast Meat Shop in Sunway Geo is run by Harry Fong and his wife Olivia Yap. — Picture courtesy of The Roast Meat Shop

“We want our siew yoke to have its own distinctive taste,” Fong says. “We want every part of the skin to achieve that satisfying crackling while keeping the meat succulent.”

Before opening the restaurant, Fong spent more than a decade as a country manager for a German company. He had always enjoyed cooking and dreamed of owning a restaurant. His wife, Olivia Yap, shared his love of roast meats: she favoured char siew, while he preferred siew yoke.

“We started experimenting with roasting meat at home, trying different ingredients and techniques until we began developing recipes we were happy with,” Fong says.

The Roast Meat Shop in Sunway Geo is run by Harry Fong and his wife Olivia Yap. — Picture courtesy of The Roast Meat Shop

For Yap, the menu also carries memories of family and childhood.

“One dish that is especially meaningful to me is our sour-and-spicy Chinese mustard roast pork,” she says. “My grandmother was Hakka, and this was one of the dishes we enjoyed at home.”

Yap recalls how her mother would cook it after Chinese New Year celebrations or other special Chinese festivals: “The recipe was passed down from my grandmother, so bringing it into our restaurant is a way for me to share a little of our family heritage with our customers.”

Yap favoured 'char siew', while Fong preferred 'siew yoke.' — Picture courtesy of The Roast Meat Shop

Another dish, the Blessing Dumplings, comes from Yap’s aunt, who lives in the United States and makes them when she returns home. Her aunt learned the recipe more than 30 years ago at a Chinese restaurant in Chinatown.

“I still remember eating those dumplings when I was a little girl. The meat was so juicy that I told myself, ‘I must learn this recipe from her when I grow up!’” Yap says.

Adapting these family recipes for a restaurant took repeated testing.

“We failed a few times because achieving the same taste we were familiar with at home became much more challenging when cooking in larger quantities,” Yap explains. 

After several attempts and adjustments, the couple established standard operating procedures to maintain consistency.

The Blessing Dumplings needed further refinement after customers said the skin was initially too thick. Yap searched for an alternative, although the new supplier charged more.

“I still remember my husband asking whether we should switch to a new supplier because the cost was higher than what we were paying previously,” she says. “We knew that getting the right dumpling skin was important to the overall experience.”

The recipe for their sour-and-spicy Chinese mustard roast pork was passed down from Yap’s grandmother. — Picture courtesy of The Roast Meat Shop

The same attention to detail shapes the rest of the menu. The couple draw on food they enjoy at home rather than adding dishes simply to offer more choice.

“We don't want to introduce a dish simply to offer more choices,” Yap says. “We want to be confident that every dish we serve is something we would be happy to eat ourselves.”

The shop’s best-selling wantan noodles are one example. “Getting the house-made sauce right didn't happen overnight. We collected feedback from diners and made several adjustments to the recipe before settling on a version we were happy with,” she says.

The couple use duck egg noodles for their firm, springy or “QQ” texture and because they lack a strong alkaline taste.

“The cost of making the sauce is higher, but we feel it is worth it,” Yap says. “For us, flavour and quality matter more than simply choosing the cheapest ingredients.”

The couple prepare their food in-house daily. Fong oversees operations, from the kitchen to the front of house, while Yap focuses on the back-end and marketing, including promotions, customer engagement and Chinese New Year vacuum-packed roast meat hampers.

“We have different responsibilities, but we discuss ideas and make important business decisions together,” Yap says. “We listen to each other's views and try to find a way forward that works for the business.”

The Blessing Dumplings. — Picture courtesy of The Roast Meat Shop

Maintaining quality also means making careful decisions about suppliers, staffing and the details of each meal.

“We pay close attention to ingredient costs and explore different suppliers to find the best value without compromising on quality,” Fong says.

The shop’s noodle and rice dishes come with small side servings of onsen egg and Japanese cucumber. Removing them would cut costs, but Fong believes they contribute to a more complete meal.

“There are times when maintaining our standards means accepting a smaller profit margin. We could cut certain items or take shortcuts to reduce costs, but we believe these small details contribute to the overall dining experience,” he says.

The couple are also developing vacuum-packed roast meats for customers to enjoy at home. Meanwhile, a second restaurant is in the planning stage, with decisions to make about location, operating costs, equipment, staffing and ingredient supplies.

One option is to turn the first outlet into a central kitchen, with roasting and food preparation done there before supplies are sent to the second restaurant. The couple are training potential staff and looking for suitable candidates, including a kitchen leader who can help maintain standards.

“Ultimately, we want to expand in a structured and sustainable manner, making sure we have the right people, systems, and processes in place before taking the next step,” Fong says.

Duck egg noodles are used for their 'QQ' texture and lack of a strong alkaline taste. — Picture courtesy of The Roast Meat Shop

Running a restaurant has required sacrifices, including personal time, rest and financial security. Yet the couple measure success by more than sales or the number of outlets they operate.

“To us, success means building a sustainable business with a strong reputation, maintaining the quality and consistency of our food, and earning the trust and loyalty of our customers,” Yap says.

“Most importantly, we want The Roast Meat Shop to grow without losing its identity or compromising the principles that we started with. We would rather expand at the right pace than grow too quickly at the expense of quality.”

As Yap puts it, “We started because we love good food and wanted to share it with others.”

The Roast Meat Shop 

F-01-08, Sunway Geo Avenue, 

Sunway South Quay, 

Jalan Lagoon Selatan, 

Subang Jaya, Selangor.

Open daily 10.30am–8.30pm

Phone: 016-203 8355

IG: https://www.instagram.com/theroastmeatshop/

FB: https://www.facebook.com/theroastmeatshop/

For more food fables and café chronicles, visit Life for Beginners.

KUALA LUMPUR, Nov 4 — Potager has received its first Michelin star in the fifth edition of the Michelin Guide Kuala Lumpur and Penang, announced today, while Dewakan retains its two stars. 

The guide also includes nasi kandar for the first time: Hameediyah, established in 1907 and recognised by the Malaysia Book of Records as the country’s oldest nasi kandar restaurant, and Deens Maju, both in Penang, join the Michelin Selected list.

The 2027 selection features 159 establishments: one two-star restaurant, nine one-star restaurants, 60 Bib Gourmands and 89 Michelin Selected. 

Last year’s edition listed 151 establishments, including 58 Bib Gourmands and 84 Selected. 

Kuala Lumpur now has 80 establishments (77 last year) and Penang 79 (74 last year). 

For the first time in Malaysia, the selection was announced through a press release rather than at a ceremony.

Michelin International Director Gwendal Poullennec said in a statement that the selection reflects “the continued importance of local favourites” alongside restaurants that combine Malaysian ingredients, regional flavours and international techniques. 

The selection includes everyday dishes such as nasi kandar, koay teow th’ng and bak kut teh, alongside contemporary interpretations of local flavours.

Helmed by Chef Masashi Horiuchi, Potager has been on the Selected list for the last two years and earned its first star in this year’s Michelin Guide selection. — Picture courtesy of Potager

At the top of the list, Potager, a French contemporary restaurant in Kuala Lumpur’s Bamboo Hills led by Chef Masashi Horiuchi, earns its first star. 

The restaurant opened in September 2023 and joined the Michelin Selected list in the 2025 edition and stayed on it last year before earning a star this year. 

That brings the one-star total to nine, up from eight, with seven in Kuala Lumpur and two in Penang. 

Dewakan retains its two stars, with Chef Darren Teoh the first chef to be featured in Michelin’s new Mindful Voices platform, which highlights the restaurant’s use of local, native and endemic ingredients to reduce imports. 

Speaking to Malay Mail after the announcement, Teoh said, “I think in light of a hard season, we are thankful to continue to have guests who travel and see the vibrant and dynamic restaurant scene this country has. We think having a guide like the Michelin is great as a starting point for anyone who has never known the country before to begin to fall in love with it.”

Potager’s recognition also extends to its dining room: Nazahar, who has supervised service since the restaurant opened, received the Service Award. Three other special awards were presented. 

Aidan Low, born in 1992, won the Young Chef Award for combining classical French technique and Japanese precision with native produce and house-made ferments at his Michelin-starred restaurant, Akar. 

Joyin Goh of Tangram (Selected) won the Sommelier Award for a list of nearly 100 wines featuring lesser-known boutique wineries. 

Root House by Gēn (Selected), Chef Johnson Wong’s restaurant at George Town’s 1926 Heritage Hotel, won Opening of the Year; it opened in July 2026 and explores Malaysian-Chinese cuisine through Hokkien, Teochew, Hakka, Cantonese and Hainanese traditions.

The Bib Gourmand list grows to 60 restaurants (26 in Kuala Lumpur, 34 in Penang), up from 58, with four new entries. In Kuala Lumpur, 7 Chai Ipoh Hor Fun serves classic Ipoh kai si hor fun, and Minji Bak Kut Teh serves bak kut teh made from an 80-year-old family recipe. 

In Penang, Lemon Koay Teow Soup in Butterworth serves a unique pork-based koay teow th’ng with lemon juice, and Serabai Istimewa, which was among the selections dropped from the list last year, returns with its kuih serabai.

Two restaurants no longer appear on the list: Heun Kee Claypot Chicken Rice (Pudu) in Kuala Lumpur, which has closed, and Ah Boy Koay Teow Th’ng in Penang. A new claypot chicken rice restaurant, Yan Kee, has opened at the same location, run by the grandson of Heun Kee’s original owner.

Nasi kandar makes its long-awaited entrance in the Michelin Selected category, which has 89 establishments (46 in Kuala Lumpur, 43 in Penang), up from 84, with 12 new entries. 

The iconic Penang dish ‘nasi kandar’ is included for the first time, with Hameediyah and Deens Maju joining the Selected restaurants in Penang. — Picture courtesy of Michelin Guide

Two nasi kandar institutions make the list: time-honoured Hameediyah on Lebuh Campbell, known for its kambing kurma and murtabah, along with another local favourite, Deens Maju on Jalan Gurdwara. 

Penang’s other new entries are Flower Mulan, a florist-café serving Nyonya dishes that was among the restaurants dropped last year; Khaosan, a contemporary Thai restaurant serving “modern Thai tapas”; Root House by Gēn, the Opening of the Year winner; and See Kong Ooi, which serves home-style Malaysian-Chinese dishes in a restored heritage shophouse.

In Kuala Lumpur, six restaurants join the list, and three of them arrive with Michelin-recognised pedigree from elsewhere. 

As I Am by Chef Ton, a contemporary Thai restaurant with views of Merdeka 118 and a 12-course tasting menu, was opened by Chef Thitid “Ton” Tassanakajohn, the chef behind Bangkok’s Le Du and Nusara. 

Both restaurants hold one Michelin star in the Michelin Guide Thailand 2026, and his first Malaysian restaurant, Sood by Chef Ton in Penang, joined the Selected list in last year’s edition. 

Jhol, which cooks the flavours of India’s nine coastal states, is an outpost of Bangkok’s Jhol, founded by Chef Hari Nayak, which is also listed in the Michelin Guide Thailand. 

An outpost of Chef Hari Nayak’s Jhol in Bangkok, Jhol in Kuala Lumpur debuts among the Selected restaurants. — Picture courtesy of Jhol

Tangram, a contemporary Asian restaurant with French techniques and a seasonal tasting menu, is a collaboration between local partner Hsiao Tung Wei of Unwined and Chef Johnny Tsai, the creator of Taipei’s one-Michelin-starred T+T.

The other three additions in Kuala Lumpur are Merdeka Grill, a European restaurant in the newly opened Park Hyatt Kuala Lumpur in Merdeka 118, serving dishes such as blue swimmer crab ravioli and Wagyu grilled over cedar wood; White N Black Kampong, a casual eatery serving kampung-style dishes for sharing; and Yellow Fin Horse, a contemporary Mediterranean restaurant in Else Kuala Lumpur.

Seven restaurants no longer appear on the Selected list. In Kuala Lumpur, they are K, Ling Long, Qureshi and Wagyu Kappo Yoshida, which have all closed; Potager left the category after moving up to a star. In Penang, they are Il Bacaro, Kota Dine & Coffee and Richard Rivalee.

Full list: Michelin Guide Kuala Lumpur and Penang 2027

159 establishments: 1 Two-Star, 9 One-Star, 60 Bib Gourmands, 89 Michelin Selected. 80 in Kuala Lumpur, 79 in Penang.

Two Michelin Stars (1)

• Dewakan

One Michelin Star (9)

Kuala Lumpur (7)

• Akar
• Beta
• Chim by Chef Noom
• DC. by Darren Chin
• Molina
• Potager (Promoted)
• Terra Dining

Penang (2)

• Au Jardin
• Auntie Gaik Lean’s Old School Eatery

Bib Gourmand (60)

Kuala Lumpur (26)

• 7 Chai Ipoh Hor Fun (New)
• Ah Hei Bak Kut Teh
• Aliyaa
• Anak Baba (Brickfields)
• Coast by Kayra
• Congkak (Bukit Bintang)
• De. Wan 1958 (Taman U Thant)
• Foong Lian
• Gulainya
• Hai Kah Lang (Taman Cheras)
• Hing Kee Bakuteh (121 Jalan Kepong)
• Hor Poh Cuisine
• Jalan Ipoh Claypot Chicken Rice
• Lai Foong Lala Noodles
• Lama
• Leen’s
• Minji Bak Kut Teh (New)
• MTR 1924
• Nam Heong Chicken Rice (City Centre)
• Nasi Ayam Hainan Chee Meng (Jalan Kelang Lama)
• Nirwana
• Roti by d’Tandoor
• Sao Nam
• Sek Yuen
• Sin Kiew Yee Shin Kee Beef Noodles
• Wong Mei Kee

Penang (34)

• Awesome Char Koay Teow
• Bee Hwa Cafe
• Bibik’s Kitchen
• BM Cathay Pancake
• BM Yam Rice
• Bridge Street Prawn Noodle
• Communal Table by Gēn
• Duck Blood Curry Mee
• Ghee Lian
• Green House Prawn Mee & Loh Mee (223 Jalan Burma)
• Hot Bowl White Curry Mee
• Ivy’s Nyonya Cuisine
• Laksalicious
• Lemon Koay Teow Soup (New)
• Lum Lai Duck Meat Koay Teow Th’ng
• Ming Qin Charcoal Duck Egg Char Koay Teow
• Moh Teng Pheow Nyonya Koay
• My Own Café
• Neighbourwood
• Penang Road Famous Jin Kor Char Kuey Teow
• Penang Road Famous Laksa
• Rasa Rasa
• Ravi’s Famous Apom Manis
• Sardaarji
• Serabai Istimewa (New)
• Siam Road Char Koay Teow
• Sifu
• Sister Yao’s Char Koay Kak
• Super Star Koay Teow Soup (78 Lebuh Kimberley)
• Taman Bukit Curry Mee
• Teksen
• Thara
• Wan Dao Tou Assam Laksa
• Winn’s Cafe

Michelin Selected (89)

Kuala Lumpur (46)

• As I Am by Chef Ton (New)
• Atelier Binchotan
• Bar Kar
• Bidou
• Bōl
• Café Café
• Cilantro
• Dancing Fish
• Dominic
• Elegant Inn
• Entier
• Frangipaani
• Gai by Darren Chin (Taman Tun Dr Ismail)
• Hide
• Jhol (New)
• Jie
• Jwala
• Kayra
• Kazu
• Kuki
• La Suisse
• Li Yen
• Limapulo
• Malai
• Marble 8
• Marini’s on 57
• Merdeka Grill (New)
• Nadodi
• Passage Thru India
• Seed
• Shanghai Restaurant
• Shu
• Skillet
• Sushi Masa
• Sushi Ori
• Sushi Taka
• Tanglin (Bukit Damansara)
• Tangram (New)
• Tenmasa
• Teochew Lao Er
• The Brasserie
• Ushi
• Vantador
• White N Black Kampong (New)
• Yellow Fin Horse (New)
• Yun House

Penang (43)

• 888 Hokkien Mee
• Air Itam Duck Rice
• Air Itam Sister Curry Mee
• Ali Nasi Lemak Daun Pisang
• Bali Hai Seafood Market
• Bao Teck Tea House
• Bee See Heong
• Bite N Eat Dindigul Biriyani
• Blacklinen
• Blanc
• Ceki
• Christoph’s
• Curios-City
• Deens Maju (New)
• Du-An (Lebuh Pantai)
• Fatty Loh Chicken Rice
• Feringgi Grill
• Firewood
• Flower Mulan (New)
• Fook Cheow Cafe
• Gēn
• Goh Thew Chik Hainan Chicken Rice
• Hameediyah (New)
• Jaloux
• Jawi House
• Jit Seng Hong Kong Roasted Duck Rice
• Kebaya Dining Room
• Khaosan (New)
• La Vie
• Lucky Hole
• Mémoire
• Nyonya Willow
• Penang Famous Samosa
• Peninsula House
• Pitt Street Koay Teow Soup
• Root House by Gēn (New)
• RR Nyonya House
• Sambal
• See Kong Ooi (New)
• Sood by Chef Ton
• The Pinn
• Tok Tok Mee Bamboo Noodle
• WhatSaeb Boat Noodles 

KUALA LUMPUR, Nov 4 — In Japan, ramen is an everyman’s staple food with different regional styles so it makes sense to personalise the noodles here to make them accessible to all Malaysians.

In 2024, Chihiro Miyazaki from Tokyo’s Soranoiro brought his famed five-hour chicken broth ramen to our shores under the name Ramen Minamo, which has won many hearts and even grudgingly converted die-hard ramen fans who believed ramen broth must be made with pork.

This time, his ramen footprint in the city extends to Ramen Ayame, located in Ombak KLCC with the philosophy of “Japanese ramen, made by Japanese hands.”

Using all the flavours and techniques from Japan, each bowl is finished by hand at Ramen Minamo and now, Ramen Ayame.

Miyazaki’s ramen feels like a storybook; each chapter is unlocked by adding different toppings step-by-step, revealing a tale told in a range of flavours, beginning with the first sip of the mesmerising broth paired with the smooth noodles.

It may feel like an overload of information to digest quickly, but ramen geeks will be happy that the menu shares every ingredient and idea behind the bowl.

Once you try their ramen following the guide, you can chart your own path by adding whichever toppings to fit your preference.

Savour Sapporo-style Kani ramen with a miso base broth, sauteed bean sprouts and a whole flower crab paired with curly noodles. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Ramen Ayame’s six ramen varieties, which use chicken, beef and seafood, were developed over two years to suit changing moods, ranging from a lighter bowl to whet your appetite or a richer, more indulgent one that feels celebratory.

They’re mindful to keep their food safe for Muslims so no alcohol or mirin is used in their cooking. Even the menu items are stated in three languages: English, Japanese and Malay.

The ultra creamy Shiro, their signature ramen, has a broth that is cooked for five hours; high heat emulsifies the broth to a pale colour and creamy consistency, resulting in a rich, smooth flavour.

Gyu ramen is built with a rich beef tendon miso broth sweetened with sauteed onions and bean sprouts. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Also using a chicken broth base, the Hakata is a lighter option laced with an aromatic oil, anchovy sauce and a squeeze of lemon to brighten it up.

The Kuro is a decadent ramen with a base of chicken, dark mushrooms and porcini, finished with an earthy truffle paste.

Tsuke Men is a four-stage experience: start with chilled fine noodles served with water infused with konbu seaweed, then add a sprinkle of seaweed salt, dip the noodles in a concentrated chicken and seafood broth and finally add the hot broth to the dipping sauce to drink.

Roast beef slices (left) can be eaten on their own or dunked in the broth. Spicy minced beef (right) clears the palate with the heat once mixed with the broth. — Pictures by Lee Khang Yi

Drawing on their previous experience in Japan, they brought in two Sapporo-style ramen with miso-based broths paired with medium-thick curly noodles: one with local flower crab and another with roast beef.

Kani (RM36) uses a whole flower crab cooked in the rich miso broth with crab oil, sautéed onions and vegetables, which drives more flavour into the broth.

Start by adding shredded crab meat for a light sweetness, followed by corn niblets, onion, bamboo shoots and wakame seaweed. The final flourish is spicy miso that deepens the flavour of the broth.

Gyu (RM36) is built around a base of fragrant beef tendon broth paired with a mixture of red and white miso and that signature Sapporo-style addition of sautéed vegetables cooked in an iron pan.

Hana or the Tender Roast Beef Bowl allows you to warm up the rosy pink center beef to enjoy with the Japanese Akitakomachi rice and finish it with a broth. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

This broth can be a little oily, so it’s served piping hot to downplay that mouthfeel. Try slurping the broth as quickly as you can before it cools down.

Add the roast beef slices and vegetables for one level of flavour.

The final topping of spicy minced beef with Wagyu fat changes the broth’s sweet flavour to a deeper, punchy flavour with lingering heat, which clears the palate so the broth doesn’t feel overly rich.

The ramen is also available at Ramen Minamo (IG: @ramenminamokl) but some varieties are offered on a rotating monthly menu.

Umi (left) is unique in its presentation; the seafood isn’t presented as a topping for the rice but is shaped in a tower. Leave one third of the rice to enjoy with the broth mixed with sesame sauce (right), rolled omelette and seaweed. — Pictures by Lee Khang Yi

With a new outlet, different items are needed to attract their fervent fans; hence, they also offer a small donburi menu using Japanese Akitakomachi rice, which has a desirable stickiness for the grains, paired with three ingredient choices.

Hana (RM45) Tender Roast Beef Bowl uses beef rump slices, cooked at a precise temperature to a tender, rosy centre.

These slices can be warmed on a mini hot stone and relished with their house-made bonito soy, which has garlic and ginger notes. For the last stage, add the sesame scented konbu dashi broth to enjoy with the rice and beef.

Umi (RM38) Seafood Tartare Bowl is based on the same idea as Japan’s Kaisen Don Tsujihan: a kaisendon shaped like a tower with a mixture of finely chopped salmon, tuna, sweet shrimp and squid, crowned with sweet shrimp roe and tobiko.

Juicy Chicken Karaage (left) can be ordered as a side dish. Start with a Creamy Kale Salad (right) to get your daily greens in with this Caesar salad-inspired version. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Enjoy it with their bonito soy, which has garlic and ginger flavours.

Then, for the final third portion of the rice and seafood, add a light bonito konbu dashi mixed with sesame sauce for a richer broth, rolled omelette and seaweed.

The third rice bowl is Beni (RM39.50) Rare Centre Salmon Katsu, which flips the usual beef or pork coating of crisp bread crumbs to a salmon version, paired with creamy avocado.

Small bites on the side can also be ordered, including juicy Chicken Karaage (3 pieces for RM13, 5 pieces for RM18) or a healthy Creamy Kale Salad (RM16) dressed like a Caesar salad with croutons and cheese.

It gets busy during peak lunch time so be patient. If you wish to avoid the rush hour, go after that time as the restaurant is open throughout the day.

Located on the fourth floor of the shopping mall, Ayame Restaurant is a great way to enjoy ramen and rice bowls in the city centre. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Ayame Restaurant

Lot 4-02-02, Ombak KLCC,

20, Persiaran KLCC,

Kuala Lumpur.

Open daily: 10am to 10pm

Tel: 012-5569721

Instagram: @ramenayame

@donburiayame

Websites: @Ramen Ayame Ombak

@Donburi Ayame Ombak

* This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal.

* Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.

KUALA LUMPUR, Nov 3 — When Tan Shing Win made coffee outdoors, he noticed something that kept bothering him: the same beans and brewing recipe could produce a different cup depending on the environment.

It was an everyday observation, but one that eventually helped shape his presentation at the 2026 World Barista Championship (WBC) in Panama, where he finished second — the best result ever achieved by a Malaysian competitor.

Moisture became the focus of his routine, reflecting a question that had followed him through years of making coffee in different settings.

“Sometimes, even when using the exact same brewing recipe, the results could be quite different depending on the environment,” Shing Win says. “This made me wonder how factors such as humidity might be influencing the way we brew coffee.”

Moisture, he explains, is not often a major topic of discussion in coffee brewing. Yet it was something his team paid attention to when adjusting coffee for different environments.

“Over time, I became more curious about how something we often overlook could influence the way we make coffee. That curiosity eventually led me to explore moisture more deeply and make it the central idea of my routine.”

The approach is characteristic of Shing Win: technical, observant and more interested in pursuing a question than presenting an elaborate story.

That quality is familiar to his coach, Keith Koay, who first met him in 2016, shortly after opening a coffee shop in Taman Paramount, PJ.

(That little coffee shop, of course, is none other than One Half Coffee; it would eventually pave the way for other now-veteran establishments in the local F&B scene, such as Dou Dou Bake and One Half Roastery.)

Tan Shing Win’s WBC approach was technical, observant and more interested in pursuing a question than presenting an elaborate story. — Picture courtesy of Tan Shing Win

“He came in as a customer, curious about coffee and searching for answers about a career path that was still quite blurry to him,” Keith recalls.

He eventually hired Shing Win as a part-timer. What stood out was not necessarily his talent, but his attitude towards learning.

“He was never in a rush to prove himself. Instead, he was happy to observe, learn humbly behind the bar, and build his understanding of coffee from the ground up.”

Keith, himself a three-time Malaysian Barista Champion (winning the titles in 2016, 2018 and 2020), says Shing Win was willing to dedicate time to the craft without expecting immediate results.

Those early qualities, he believes, helped bring the barista to the world stage.

“One question we kept coming back to throughout our preparation was: ‘We want to see someone who can change or inspire the coffee industry. Do you think what you’re presenting in these 15 minutes truly represents that?’” Keith says.

Sometimes, Shing Win’s response was silence. Keith felt that, deep down, he knew when the answer was no.

“So we went back, questioned our ideas, and continued refining the routine. It wasn’t necessarily about finding something more impressive to present, but making sure that everything we put on stage had a purpose and something meaningful to contribute.”

The moisture concept emerged from an ordinary part of their lives. The two often went camping and noticed that coffee brewed outdoors, particularly in hot and humid conditions, could taste remarkably different from the same coffee made at home.

Tan Shing Win was coached by Keith Koay (first from right), a three-time Malaysian Barista Champion. — Picture courtesy of Tan Shing Win

“That observation sparked our curiosity. We wanted to understand why, and whether we could find an explanation through research and experimentation,” Keith says.

Shing Win’s competition routine also had to translate that curiosity into a compelling coffee experience. One challenge was showcasing the delicate character of a washed Geisha in a milk beverage.

Rather than selecting different coffees for each course, as competitors commonly do to maximise the potential of individual drinks, the team chose to use the same coffee across all three.

“We wanted to preserve the coffee’s identity while creating enough intensity for its flavours to shine through the milk,” Shing Win says.

They explored how moisture within the beans could help achieve that without changing the roast profile.

“It reminded me that sometimes, improving a cup isn’t about changing the coffee itself, but understanding how to work with what the coffee already has to offer.”

For Keith, that process was not separate from their everyday work.

“Much of what we presented on stage reflects what we quietly practise behind the bar every day,” he says. “It’s not necessarily something loud or visually spectacular.”

Behind the simplicity, Keith points to “a lot of observation, questioning, experimentation and attention to detail”, which are habits that support their philosophy of making tasty coffee.

What mattered to him was that Shing Win had brought this everyday approach onto the world stage and demonstrated that it belonged there.

Tan Shing Win has been supported throughout his preparation, ever since he won the Malaysia Barista Championship last year. — Picture courtesy of Tan Shing Win

Naturally, second place brought mixed emotions to Shing Win. He was happy, shocked and proud to finish runner-up in his debut at the championship, but the knowledge that first place was within reach made the moment bittersweet.

However, this historic result only fully sank in after he returned to Malaysia.

Shing Win says that his achievement was also the product of everyone who had supported him throughout the preparation, ever since he won the Malaysia Barista Championship last year: “My coach, mentor and team believed in me even before I believed in myself.”

He also received encouragement from the international coffee community, whose generosity moved him deeply.

“I think the biggest lesson I’ve learned is to be more selfless. So many people have shared their knowledge, experience and time with me without expecting anything in return.”

Shing Win’s milestone achievement has struck a chord across the Malaysian coffee community, many of whom are his peers, supporters, mentors and comrades in arms.

Jason Loo, who finished fourth at the 2025 World Barista Championship after winning the Malaysia Barista Championship four times, has been cheering him on.

“Seeing Shing Win follow that with a second-place finish reinforces the belief that our success is not a one-off achievement. We are building the foundation, the experience, and the confidence to compete consistently at this level,” Jason says.

He believes the country should also reconsider how it sees its place in the global coffee scene.

“We should no longer see ourselves as a small coffee nation trying to catch up. We have our own identity, talent, culture, and stories to bring to the world.”

Tan Shing Win’s triumph at the WBC will inspire the next generation of Malaysian baristas. — Picture courtesy of Tan Shing Win

That shift might depend on an ecosystem the competitors find themselves in. Chiam Tow Jin — president of the Malaysia Specialty Coffee Association, co-founder of The Roast Things and the 2025 Malaysia Cup Tasters Champion — feels the achievement reflects both individual commitment and the wider industry that has developed around baristas.

He says, “Behind them are companies and teams willing to invest time, resources, and belief in their development. Equally important are the customers whose appreciation for good coffee makes it commercially sustainable for businesses to keep investing in their people.”

Competition also has value beyond the podium. According to Surender Kumar (or Suren), the 2023 Malaysia Barista Champion and co-founder of Ruits Juices: “It develops discipline, attention to detail and a better understanding of how to communicate what you do,” he says.

Suren hopes younger baristas will be empowered by Shing Win’s story to take their craft seriously and consider the different ways they can contribute, whether through competing, teaching, coaching or building businesses.

To these aspiring baristas, Keith’s advice is straightforward: find a good team, work hard, stay curious and “pray for a little luck”.

Shing Win agrees, adding that his next step is “to do the same for others. To share what I’ve learned, offer support wherever I can, and pass on the same positive energy that so many people have given me throughout this journey.”

No doubt his triumph at the WBC will inspire the next generation of Malaysian baristas, but the challenge now is to make that level of performance less of an exception and more of a standard.

Together, we can build a coffee culture in which more Malaysians have the knowledge, support and resources to compete on the world stage.

For more food fables and café chronicles, visit Life for Beginners.

KUALA LUMPUR, Nov 2 — How often have you driven far away for a particular dish or perhaps queued for a viral food item and emerged feeling disappointed?

All that time and effort spent for a mediocre, or even worse, unsatisfying meal. What sacrilege!

Psychologists call it effort justification, where people perceive a meal they had to work harder to get as special, better tasting, or worth the effort — whether it’s a long drive to Klang for bak kut teh or joining a snaking queue for many hours for the In-N-Out Burger pop-up or securing that elusive reservation at Khairul Aming’s Rembayung.

Perhaps a better approach to avoid this mind trap is considering whether a substitute is available nearer your home.

That possibility arose when I came across a review for Lala King Hong Bak/Klang Bak Kut Teh, a relatively new place in Taman Cheras.

Hong bak isn’t new; it’s what the Hokkiens love when they slowly cook pork, spare parts and chicken feet for many hours in soy sauce and a mix of herbs until the meat is fall-off-the-bone tender with a sticky, glossy sauce rich with gelatin.

Bak Kut Teh is brewed with 18 different kinds of herbs that give a deep flavour to the soup. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

You find it in Hokkien enclaves like Segambut and Klang but Jenjarom is hong bak central where a few places offer that meaty wonder.

This place in Taman Cheras was strangely quiet when I walked in, making me assume it must be a dud.

However, since I was there already, I decided to order a dish to try.

The moment my order for the Big Bone Hong Bak (RM19) hit the table and I smelled those strong herbal notes, saw the glossy sauce and that supple fat with the tear-apart meat... it was a done deal.

There’s a long list of other stewed pig parts, like the coveted pork trotter, curved feet, pig’s intestines, tendons and stomach.

According to a previous interview, the meat is marinated overnight with five-spice powder, pepper and light soy sauce.

After deep-frying, the meat is braised for over five hours in a broth brewed with eight different Chinese herbs, creating a thick, rich dark brown, fragrant sauce.

Sour & Spicy Hong Bak is an unusual version of the stewed pork belly with a hint of tanginess and distinct spiciness. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

The Sour & Spicy Hong Bak (RM19) intrigued me; it is reportedly a recipe the founder learned as an apprentice to an elderly couple in Klang.

One wonders what hardship he must have endured to learn this clever version of hong bak, where the tanginess and burning heat on the tongue alleviate the overly rich taste of the meaty brown sauce.

Eat the dish when it arrives at the table, billowing hot smoke from the claypot, as each piece of the pork belly is tender, yielding just slightly when you bite through the meat and fat.

It’s one of those dishes that can qualify for what Koreans call bap doduk, or “rice thief,” since the flavours are intensely savoury and require white rice to balance the strong taste.

There’s also Bak Kut Teh (RM19) featuring a dark, intense herbal broth that is fortifying; the meaty broth is said to be brewed with 18 kinds of medicinal herbs and roasted garlic.

Dig inside the claypot to discover enoki mushrooms, crisp iceberg lettuce softened in the broth, beancurd skin and thick sliced pork belly.

La La Bak Kut Teh sounds like an unlikely combination but the two items work well to create a dish where sweetness tempers the strong herbal aroma. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Even when you say it out loud, La La Bak Kut Teh (RM25) is such an off-the-wall combination that seems unlikely to work but weirdly enough it does, as the sweetness of the shellfish tempers the strong herbal flavour of the broth, leaving you with a more refreshed palate as you fish for more of those thick white shells that cradle the plump molluscs.

La La Soup (RM25) is more conventional but done very well as the clams are cooked in a golden liquid perfumed with rice wine.

You’ll want to tip all that heavenly broth, complete with plump, juicy clams, into a separate bowl to finish.

La La Soup is well prepared with just cooked clams and a rich broth laced with rice wine. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

According to an old newspaper article I read, this place originally started in Seri Kembangan and created a buzz when it first opened.

Apparently, that location is closed, but they relocated to Kuchai Lama, where they operate out of an adjoining shop lot as a coffeeshop run by the founder while this Cheras location is managed by a related party.

I visited the two locations. Even though the Kuchai Lama location is supposedly run by the founder, the food felt off; their Sour & Spicy Hong Bak had an unpleasant sharp taste from excessive vinegar, making the dish difficult to finish.

The restaurant can be found on a busy street in Taman Cheras. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Not only is the cooking subpar, but the Kuchai Lama location is also staffed by foreign workers who cannot recommend dishes or answer basic questions about the food, making the Cheras restaurant the better, more consistent choice for dining.

Restoran Lala King Hong Bak/Klang Bak Kut Teh

14, Jalan KasKas 3, 

Taman Cheras, Kuala Lumpur.

Open daily: 10am to 3pm, 4:30pm to 9pm 

Tel: 010-9849740

* This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal.

* Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems

IPOH, Nov 1 — For as long as I can remember, I have loved visiting Ipoh. 

The capital of Perak and a former tin-mining town surrounded by limestone hills, it has a food scene that needs no introduction. 

It is the birthplace of white coffee. It is home to the best nga choy kai and kai si hor fun in the country. It is also my father’s hometown.

Every year, my family made the drive up numerous times: Chinese New Year, All Souls’ Day (my father was an altar boy growing up), and generally any long weekend, all spent visiting my grandparents in Canning Garden. 

When I was seven, my great-grandmother died, and my parents told me we’d be heading to Ipoh in the middle of the week for the funeral. 

Yee Fatt is still run by the third-generation of the same family, — Picture by Ethan Lau

I was over the moon. Skipping school and a trip to Ipoh? Jackpot. I couldn’t understand why everyone else looked so serious.

Shielded by my inability to grasp life and death, my memories of those trips are filled with vivid scenes: jagged limestone towers bathed in red as the setting sun cast its rays over the Kinta Valley; my own reflection in the long, seemingly endless mirror at Thean Chun, as I waited for a bowl of kai si hor fun; and, most memorably, the thick, chunky sludge that is Hainanese dry curry at Yee Fatt.

Ipoh may be best known for kai si hor fun, but my favourite thing to eat in this city is dry curry mee. 

And my favourite place to eat it is at Kedai Kopi Yee Fatt. It has stood across the Methodist Girls’ School on Jalan Raja Permaisuri Bainun since 1955, when the road was still named Jalan Kampar. 

In the seven decades since, Yee Fatt has come to be defined by its dry curry, typically served over noodles with char siew, siew yoke or chicken (sometimes all three), and even on lo mai kai. 

No matter the day, there is always a crowd at Yee Fatt in the morning. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Klang Valley curry mee is a different thing: it’s much closer to curry laksa, and to laksa as a genre, than to dry curry, which is unique to Ipoh. 

Its roots lie with the Hainanese, who arrived in the city much later than the Hokkien, Cantonese, Teochew and Hakka. 

Many ended up cooking in colonial households or running kopitiams like Yee Fatt, combining the techniques and ingredients of the melting pot around them, and dry curry emerged as one of Ipoh’s emblematic creolised foods. 

There are many temples to dry curry in the city: Xin Quan Fang, also known as ma ta liu (Cantonese for police station) for its proximity to the police station; Sun Seng Fatt, which made a short-lived attempt at expanding to KL; and Yat Yat Seng, or as I knew it growing up, Fei Lou Wu, which fared much better in KL. 

But none has a dry curry quite as thick or as complex as Yee Fatt’s.

An unconventional combination of curry and ‘lo mai kai’ has become one of Yee Fatt’s signature offerings. — Picture by Ethan Lau

In my admittedly nascent lifetime, I have never seen Yee Fatt have a quiet morning. The crowd comes early, and ever since pockets of the internet discovered the place, the weekend crowd has only grown. 

Arriving before 8.30am is crucial to avoiding a wait and, more importantly, to getting there before the siew yoke and lo mai kai sell out. 

My move is always to order the dry curry with all three meats (RM15) and a side of lo mai kai with curry sauce (RM7). They always ask if I want to take a look at the zhar liu. I always politely decline.

Then we wait, taking in the room: the classic tiling on the floors and walls, the marble tables, the occasionally chipped china. 

The lo mai kai is usually the first to arrive, still under a steaming metal bowl, with a small bowl of curry on the side. 

The first spoonful matters most: curry over soft, sticky glutinous rice, sometimes with a sliver of char siew or mushroom hiding in it. 

It’s like smearing kaya on pulut tai tai, only spicier, more savoury, more robust. The subtle sweetness of the rice dovetails with the curry beautifully.

Then comes the centrepiece: a mountain of noodles, bean sprouts, chicken, siew yoke and char siew, completely smothered in a thick, reddish sludge of curry. 

No word, or series of words, quite captures it. It clings to the lips, stays on the tongue and remains in the brain. 

Rich, savoury, spicy, nutty and aromatically complex, thanks to a proprietary blend purported to contain 10 spices, it is unlike anything else I have eaten. That was true 20 years ago, and it is true to this day.

Every time I come back to Yee Fatt, I feel a pit in my stomach, worried that one day it might not be the same. 

Look for the (new) white sign from Bulatan Sultan Abdullah. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Of course, it isn’t identical to what I ate 20 years ago. The sign even got a facelift recently. But the dry curry tastes just as incredible. 

The wait feels just as agonising. And the post-meal heaviness feels… well, just as heavy. Maybe heavier as I get older, actually. 

Very few things in this world, especially restaurants, get to stay the same as the world changes around them. Selfishly, I hope Yee Fatt does. 

It is a perfect slice of nostalgia and honest satisfaction, one of the last I have left. If this is the last plate of dry curry mee I ever have from Yee Fatt, I will mourn it. 

But I will be immensely grateful to have eaten it at all.

Kedai Kopi Yee Fatt

39, Jalan Raja Permaisuri Bainun, 

Ipoh, Perak.

Open Tuesday to Sunday, 7.30am—2pm

Tel: 016-962 8994

Facebook: Yee Fatt Tea Shop 

* 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 tales of a childhood fuelled with curry mee.

KUALA LUMPUR, Oct 31 — Any entrepreneur would tell you that they often chance upon the idea for their business while engaging in the most mundane, daily activities.

For Rozaila Zakaria, the founder of Kelapa, a single-origin, frozen fresh coconut water brand, that idea arose when she was spending time with her loved ones outdoors.

She explains, “My family spends a lot of weekends at rugby tournaments, so I’ve spent countless hours standing under the Malaysian sun, cheering from the sidelines.”

Watching family members play, Rozaila started thinking about “how nice it would be to have something naturally refreshing and convenient during these outdoor activities.”

Rozaila got the idea for Kelapa during hours spent outdoors supporting her family at rugby tournaments. — Picture courtesy of Kelapa

Fresh coconut water was already a favourite, so when an acquaintance introduced her to a coconut estate in Slim River, Perak, she began exploring the idea.

The result is Kelapa (“coconut” in Malay), which sells coconut water in frozen 500-millilitres pouches.

Rozaila’s choice of coconut variety is central to what Kelapa offers. The coconuts come from a family-owned estate in Slim River, where the growers cultivate Sampoorna, a hybrid variety with origins in Kerala, India.

For Kelapa, branding their product as single-origin signifies the coconut water comes from one estate rather than being sourced from multiple farms.

As Rozaila explains, “Single-origin doesn’t automatically mean one coconut is better than another but it gives us traceability and a foundation for maintaining our product standards.”

Kelapa sells coconut water in frozen 500-millilitre pouches. — Pictures courtesy of Kelapa

The variety also has its own flavour profile. For Rozaila, the appeal of Sampoorna lies in its balance: “It’s light, naturally sweet and refreshing without being too rich or overpowering.”

She adds, “Unlike pandan coconut water, which is known for its more distinctive aroma, Sampoorna has a clean, familiar coconut taste.”

Of course, because coconut water is a natural product, “its flavour and sweetness can vary from harvest to harvest.”

After harvesting, the coconut water is extracted and frozen shortly afterwards. Freezing was initially a way to preserve the coconut water without heat treatment or added preservatives, but it has since become part of how Kelapa is enjoyed.

“With Kelapa, we wanted to turn that frozen format into part of the drinking experience itself,” says Rozaila. “Instead of waiting for the coconut water to thaw completely, we encourage customers to enjoy it semi-frozen, almost like a natural coconut slushie.”

The instructions “Press. Loosen. Sip” have become a small ritual for the brand. 

4. The coconuts come from a family-owned estate in Slim River—Picture courtesy of Kelapa

“Let the pouch soften slightly, press it to loosen the icy coconut water and sip straight from the pouch. The pouch isn’t just packaging. It’s part of how you experience Kelapa.”

The frozen format also means customers can keep Kelapa in their freezers, ready to thaw and enjoy whenever they want. 

Rozaila acknowledges nothing quite replaces drinking coconut water straight from a freshly opened coconut; Kelapa simply offers a different way to enjoy it.

This also becomes a useful conversation starter when she takes Kelapa to markets and community events. The frozen format can puzzle first-time buyers, many of whom need an explanation before they know what to do with the pouch.

Kelapa initially found its customers at rugby tournaments, before appearing at weekend markets, wellness events and other gatherings around the Klang Valley. 

For Rozaila, these events offer something that online orders alone cannot: “This is probably my favourite part of running Kelapa because I genuinely enjoy meeting people.”

Feedback from these encounters can inform decisions about packaging and product sizes. But it is the customers who return that Rozaila finds particularly encouraging.

She shares, “What makes me happiest is when customers recognise Kelapa or come back to buy more. For a small brand like ours, those little moments mean a lot.”

Rozaila admits Kelapa has been a departure from her professional background. She studied Computer Science before moving into retail and corporate sales, spending more than 20 years in the two fields.

Kelapa found its early customers at rugby tournaments, weekend markets and other events around the Klang Valley. — Picture courtesy of Kelapa

“I’ve always been interested in entrepreneurship, and at this stage of my life, I wanted to try something different.”

Her sales experience has proved useful, but running Kelapa involves much more than meeting customers and making sales. Sourcing, processing, packaging, storage and delivery all have to be coordinated, with the added complication of keeping the product frozen.

“I think the biggest surprise was realising how much work goes on behind the scenes.”

It has been a learning process, particularly when it comes to selling at events. Weather, haze and logistical problems can disrupt a weekend, while sales vary from one event to the next.

Feedback from customers can inform decisions about packaging and product sizes. — Picture courtesy of Kelapa

“Coming from a corporate background, I was used to planning and working towards targets. But running Kelapa has taught me to be more flexible and adapt when things change.”

She adds, “I wouldn’t say I’ve overcome every challenge. We’re still learning and figuring things out as we go.”

Looking ahead, Rozaila is considering how to reach customers beyond the weekend market circuit. Retail partnerships and different product sizes are among the possibilities, although she is wary of expanding faster than the business can manage.

She says, “I have plenty of ideas, sometimes probably too many! But for now, I want to focus on building a stronger foundation for Kelapa.”

Right now, that means continuing to develop a business that can sustain itself as it reaches more people.

Rozaila hopes Kelapa will eventually become a familiar Malaysian brand: “Something people naturally reach for after a workout, at a rugby tournament or simply when they want a little refreshment.”

Learn more about Kelapa at kelapa.flow

For more food fables and café chronicles, visit Life for Beginners.

KUALA LUMPUR, Oct 30 — Mention Teochew cuisine and what comes to mind are usually these three dishes: Teochew porridge, braised duck or the light and clean flavours of Teochew steamed fish accentuated by sour plums, ginger and tomatoes. 

Enter Teochew House: a casual offshoot of the posh Upper Palace Teochew located in The Exchange TRX that offers a different perspective of the cuisine.

The restaurant at Steppes continues Upper Palace Teochew’s mission to champion the finer details of the cuisine, offering staples like noodles served with braised beef and tendons, fish balls, prawn wantans and rice bowls with braised pork trotters or braised goose for quick lunch breaks or family-style meals for leisurely dinners. 

When they get it right, the Pan-fried Teochew Oyster Omelette is a crispy, golden wonder with its light crust, oysters and greens.

On paper, separate menus exist for lunch and dinner, though some favourites overlap. You can also add items from the extensive dinner menu to your lunch order.  

There’s also a secret menu, known only to regulars, where you can order the freshest catch delivered daily, whether it’s a particular type of fish cooked to your preference or even crabs to enhance your porridge’s sweetness. 

You can’t go wrong ordering the Teochew Oyster Porridge (RM38.80), which diners love for its soupy porridge with soft whole rice grains mingling with plump oysters, minced pork, sliced mushrooms, preserved radish, greens and dried prawns.

Sweet and Sour Pork with Pineapple was a surprise hit that must be eaten immediately after it hits the table.

For the Teochews, the familiar, simple flavours are reminiscent of home cooking, which they recognise immediately, while non-Teochews appreciate the warmth of the sweet, clear broth and fluffy grains that can be eaten with other dishes.

Pan-fried Teochew Oyster Omelette (RM32.80) can be seen on almost every table, resembling a pizza that servers cut into wedges using stainless steel pizza wheels. 

A layer of puffy crispy egg with a light crunch hides plump oysters and chopped greens cradled in the fluffy cooked eggs. 

Steamed Pork Patty with Preserved Radish is the quintessential comfort food best paired with rice.

On a good day when the kitchen isn’t overwhelmed, you get a beautiful golden filigree crust dotted with chopped greens as juicy oysters peek through. 

During peak hours, however, there’s a possibility of getting a dud — an over-fried omelette with hard oysters — which we encountered during a weekend dinner. Hopefully the kitchen can eliminate these uncertainties over time.

You may think we were mad to order classic dishes like Sweet and Sour Pork with Pineapple (RM58) and Steamed Pork Patty with Preserved Radish (RM58) instead of more Teochew-style dishes but there’s an important Hong Kong connection: Upper Palace Teochew partnered with Hung’s Delicacies from Hong Kong to introduce these items on the menu.

So we took a chance when we saw them on Teochew House’s menu. Our guess hit the bullseye; the sweet and sour pork was superb and definitely ranks as one of the best in town. 

Chicken and Pork Soup with Hairy Fig (left) has a sweet coconut-like aroma. Teochew Marinated Raw Sea Prawns (right) preserves the prawns with soy sauce, Shao Xing rice wine and spices.

Eat each nugget the moment it hits the table as inside the light crust, you get layers of pork rolled that are juicy as you chew on it. 

The pork patty was also good, offering a soft, fluffy texture because of its high fat-to-meat ratio, peppered with chunks of water chestnut and topped with preserved olive leaves. 

Chicken and Pork Soup with Hairy Fig (RM88) was another big surprise; a friend who had tried hairy fig root before insisted we order this for dinner. 

That became a stealth winner as the hairy fig root imparts a sweet coconut-like aroma to the silky broth. 

Don’t ignore the soup’s dregs either, as they aren’t dried out but remain juicy and infused with the herbs’ flavour, making us fight for the chicken meat.  

Braised Lion-Head Goose Meat uses a master braising stock of spices and soy sauce.

The Teochews are experts at handling seafood, which includes curing it Sheng Yan style to enhance the seafood’s texture and sweetness. 

Teochew Marinated Raw Sea Prawns (RM38) is a fine example of the method where tiger prawns are infused in Shao Xing wine, soy sauce, garlic, Sichuan peppercorns, coriander and other spices until they achieve a firmer texture infused with the marinade’s flavours. 

The traditional braised items use goose meat, web and wings, various parts of the pig — from its jowl, belly to its ears and intestines — and cuttlefish, braised in a master stock rich with soy sauce and infused with spices  

A special breed of goose, known as the Lion Head or Shitou, is used, as it is prized for its rich, flavourful meat, head, and liver. 

Teochew Yam Paste with Gingko Beans (left) has smooth yam paste served without lard. Freshly Ground Almond Cream with Egg White (right) is the best dessert choice.

Braised Lion-Head Goose Meat (RM58.80) has a deeper flavour from the spices and tender meat while the Braised Pork Jowl (RM38.80) has more bite and is paired with a lighter stock. 

For lunch, the Pork Trotter Rice (RM32.80) is served in a bowl where the soft, tender meat accompanies rice drenched in the braising liquid. 

For a complete meal, an assortment of greens with different textures was added to the table like the crunchier Stir-fried French Bean with Minced Pork & Preserved Olive (RM32) and a softer Baby Cabbage in Rich Chicken Broth (RM33). 

Dessert choices are limited to only three items. 

The classic Teochew Yam Paste with Gingko Beans (RM12.80) has an enjoyable smoothness but without the essential lard for flavour and a silkier mouthfeel, it feels like a cheat dessert. 

Teochew House is a welcome addition to the Mont Kiara neighbourhood.

On the healthier side, the Water Chestnut and Mung Bean Sweet Soup (RM10.80) is extremely light in sweetness, containing only mung beans and showing no sign of any crunch from water chestnuts. 

At the end of the day, Freshly Ground Almond Cream with Egg White (RM15.80) won the sweet battle with its light but distinct flavour of Chinese almonds and ribbons of cooked egg white. 

Bookings, especially during peak times, are needed to score a coveted table. It’s also best to pre-book items for faster dish turnaround. 

Teochew House

G-05-01, Steppes, 

No. 32, Jalan Kiara 3, 

Mont Kiara, Kuala Lumpur.

Open daily: 11am to 3pm, 5.30pm to 10pm

Tel:03-62539000

*This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal.

*Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.

KUALA LUMPUR, Oct 29 — Spotted dick, faggots, coronation chicken… the British culinary canon has unleashed some truly fascinating creations upon the world, but none have taken to the rest of the world quite like its national dish, fish and chips.

Its near-universal appeal can be traced to its approachable cost and relative accessibility — modern supply chain systems being what they are, you’d be hard-pressed to find a city in the world where you can’t get fish, fresh or frozen, and potatoes. 

Perhaps it’s also because the dish doesn’t need much marketing; after all, deep-fried food is pretty hard to beat. 

And post-colonial hangover aside, Malaysians have come to embrace fish and chips with real gusto in recent years.

Wisma Cosway unknowingly became the waters for two fish-and-chip shops that opened in the same building just months apart in early 2025, but Battered Fish & Chip Co. entered the city-centre scene late last year. 

Run by Hull-born siblings Danny, Charlie and Ashleigh, Battered is their attempt at evoking the essence of a classic British fish-and-chip shop, or chippy, in the hipster haven that is REXKL.

And it succeeds, for the most part, with some obvious adjustments for a Malaysian crowd: alcohol-free batter, perch rather than cod or haddock, and of course, all the marketing that tries really hard to remind you just how British it all is.

Battered is located in the back of REXKL’s Food Fiction, on the right. — Picture by Ethan Lau

The irony is that Battered doesn’t need it. The devil’s in the details. The very traditional chippy tea set comes with your pick of mushy peas or curry sauce, and the sides run to pickled eggs and battered sausages. 

Over at the condiment section, shakers of chip spice, a salt-and-paprika blend that’s a true Hull speciality, stand beside bottles of Sarson’s malt vinegar — though I guess a non-brewed condiment, the cheaper alternative found in most chippies, might’ve been more representative of the UK. 

It’s clear there’s been an effort to translate the chippy experience for Malaysia while keeping specific traditions, even regional specialities, in the final product.

The menu was recently expanded to include a fish burger (RM28) and a few sandwiches: coronation chicken (RM26), fish finger (RM25) and posh prawn (RM28), the last of which I’m reluctant to order lest I incur the wrath of one Roy Keane. 

I opted instead for the chippy tea set (RM34), just to cover as many bases as one can.

The condiment station is well stocked with all sorts, but the essentials are malt vinegar and chip spice. — Picture by Ethan Lau

It’s the works, or as they like to say, the full monty: a battered fillet of sea perch, crisp with a light, airy coating; chunky, fluffy chips; tartar sauce; mushy peas, earthy, cool and redolent of mint; and a drink.

Flaky, moist flesh aside, the flavour of the fish itself is decidedly subdued, even after a squeeze of lemon and a few splashes of malt vinegar. I find myself wishing for a sharper tartar sauce, one with more capers, gherkins or cornichons. 

Though nicely thick and fluffy, the chips, too, benefit massively from a generous dusting of chip spice, but for the more Antipodean-inclined, there’s also chicken salt, Australia’s quintessential fish-and-chip seasoning. Typically a mixture of salt, chicken bouillon and a few spices, it adds a welcome hit of umami.

It’s only later that I realise the buttered bread, which is meant to come with the chippy tea set, never showed up. The kitchen seems to have forgotten it, but I was so full and pleasantly battered into submission that I didn’t even notice.

Moist flesh and crispy batter make for an enjoyable fried fish experience, but the tartar sauce could be sharper in my book. — Picture by Ethan Lau

A sharper tartar sauce would make it near-perfect, but for RM34, it is a well-fried reminder of why the chippy endures. 

Eateries so inextricably linked to a country or its cuisine are, by nature, an impression of the real thing, and too often they feel like a simulacrum: distorted and lacking in soul. 

Battered, on the other hand, feels like a fairly faithful rendition of the experience, which is more than can be said for plenty of its neighbours in REXKL. 

It shouldn’t need to keep telling you it’s British; the chip spice, mushy peas and the bottle of Sarson’s on the table say it well enough.

Battered Fish & Chip Co.

REXKL, 80, Jalan Sultan, 

Kuala Lumpur.

Open Tuesday to Thursday, 12pm–4pm, 5pm–9pm; Friday to Sunday, 12pm–9.30pm

Tel: 011-2806 5714

Instagram: @battered.kl

* 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 chippy chronicles.

KUALA LUMPUR, Oct 28 — When wrapped in a brown paper parcel, rice, gulai and sambal are best buddies; the soft, fluffy grains absorb all the spices and even the yellow colour from the turmeric, creating a satisfying meal.

This food truck in Ampang Point leverages this method with its mash-up of nasi berlauk, nasi kukus and even nasi Sumatera, drawing long queues every day.

The frying station works non-stop during lunch time, delivering piping hot fried chicken and ‘paru goreng’ straight from the wok — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Rather than pigeonholing its recipe from the town of Pasir Putih into a fixed category, they call it Nasi Lebih Afdal, which literally means “the most excellent rice”.

Freshness is the key to this simple meal, packed in a brown paper parcel with fried chicken for RM10.

It starts with the most important element: Thai-sourced rice steamed in trays until each grain is separate and fluffy, served piping hot.

Select your protein or go wild with the add-ons to build your own yummy lunch.

Thankfully, the fried chicken isn’t drowned in a heavy batter, letting you enjoy the lightly marinated meat on its own — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

The flavours are milder and the sambal isn’t super spicy but offers more like a tiny zap of heat.

Everyone’s favourite is their golden skin fried chicken leg, just pulled from the hot oil.

It isn’t your heavily flavoured ayam berempah nor a plainer ayam kunyit but just a lightly spiced version without a thick crust to drag down the natural flavour of the chicken.

Sliced wafer thin, the cow lung is deep fried until it resembles crackers — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Their use of ayam dara, a spring chicken which has not laid eggs, produces more tender, juicier meat.

As you add more goodies to your parcel like the crunchy pieces of thinly sliced deep fried cow lung or paru goreng, it resembles nasi Sumatera.

Perhaps those thin crackers substitute the fish crackers usually served with this rice.

Boost up your rice and fried chicken with a clutch of crunchy ‘paru goreng’ — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Try adding their daging goreng or what they call daging berlengas in Kelantan, which features beef cut into cubes and stir-fried with chillies, sliced onions and a mixture of oyster sauce, soy sauce and kicap manis.

It is based on a viral recipe copied by many as the sauces provide an alchemy of savoury and sweet flavours that pair perfectly with the tender beef, sweet onions and spicy chillies.

Diners also like to add the gulai kopeh, which features super soft chicken feet, where the cartilage and meat barely hold together.

The rice is drenched with a mix of different ‘gulai’ from the huge enamel tubs like ‘gulai ikan masin’, ‘gulai daging kerutuk’ and ‘gulai kopeh’ — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

With all the extra add-ons of daging goreng and gulai kopeh, my fried chicken with rice cost RM15.

The food truck has two queues, one for takeaways and another for dine-in, so pick the correct one.

As the food truck is parked in front of an open space known as Santai @ Ampang Point, wooden benches and tables are laid out for dining.

Each packet is shaped into a cone as you pick what you want, including a fried chicken leg, ‘daging goreng’ and even their ‘gulai kopeh’ with chicken feet — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Or just follow what everyone else is doing: pack numerous brown paper parcels to eat later, allowing the rice to absorb every bit of the gulai campur and sambal.

Join the correct queue (left) at Nasi Lebih Afdal. Limited seats (right) are available at the open space next to the parked food truck — Pictures by Lee Khang Yi

Kedai Nasi Lebih Afdal 

Santai @ Ampang Point, 

6, Jalan Memanda 2, 

Taman Dato Ahmad Razali, Ampang.

Open: 10.30am to 3pm. Closed on Sundays. 

Tel: 011-15657993

Instagram: @nasi_afdal

* This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal.

* Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.

KUALA LUMPUR, Oct 26 — If you live in Kepong, you’ve probably driven past Soh Kee Eatery and maybe even dismissed it as just another restaurant.

Located in a row of single-storey lots inside Bukit Maluri Industrial Estate, you will only know of its existence from the banners.

Walk in to find a big surprise: roast meats with a taste profile that suits the residents nearby.

Their story started out as a humble stall in Selayang’s Restoran Hwa Yan Kai offering wantan mee using their own roasted meats like char siu and roast pork.

In the middle of the year, they moved to their own space opposite Jubin BMS, a multi-storey tile shop located in the industrial park.

The noodles have an ‘al dente’ texture and isn’t too thin; it comes with a bonus addition of fried lard pieces. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

It’s a family-run operation where the second generation is now helping out and learning the ropes to manage the business.

Using a charcoal fire, their char siu is superb for its layers of melt-in-the-mouth fat and tender meat wrapped with a dark crust that isn’t overly sweet.

I appreciated that less glaze was used, which resulted in a crust that wasn’t hardened by too much maltose.

Order a mixed platter of roast meats like their superb ‘char siu’ and crunchy roast pork which is still tender and not dried out from over roasting. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

That restraint, resulting in a less sweet char siu, nods to the general preference of their customers who avoid overly sweet food items.

Even their roast pork showed off careful roasting, ensuring it wasn’t dried out at the bottom while retaining a pinkish tinge.

That good control of fire resulted in a crispy golden skin that crunched in the mouth and soft meat — the best way to enjoy roast pork.

‘Wantans’ (left) are well stuffed with minced pork. Chicken curry (right), featuring potatoes and chicken can be paired with your noodles . — Pictures by Lee Khang Yi

Order a platter of char siu and roast pork for RM12 to pair with the noodles.

You get thin strands soaked in their sauce, which have an al dente bite paired with big chunks of fried lard.

The eatery is spacious and has a self-service refreshment area. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

There’s also a chicken curry version of wantan mee (RM9) where chunks of soft potatoes and chicken pieces are served with a semi-thick gravy.

The wantans are a separate order (three for RM2.50), where those silky skin bites are filled with minced pork that isn’t clenched into a clump but remains in a fluffier state.

You can also get chicken rice here, with a choice of poached or roasted.

And if you don’t feel like battling the traffic, there’s always the handy FoodPanda option for delivery to your doorstep.

Look for the eatery opposite the tile showroom Jubin BMS as it's at the fringe of the Taman Bukit Maluri industrial park. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Soh Kee Eatery

37638, Jalan 6/37A, 

Kawasan Perusahaan Taman Bukit Maluri, 

Kepong, Kuala Lumpur.

Open: 7:30am to 3pm. Closed on Thursdays. 

For this week, they swapped their closing dates: they are closed on Tuesday October 27 but will remain open on Thursday October 29.

Tel:012-3624899

Instagram: @sohkeeeatery

Facebook: @Soh-Kee-Eatery

* This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal.

* Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.

KUALA LUMPUR, Oct 26 — Malaysia has achieved its best-ever result at the World Barista Championship, with Tan Shing Win finishing second at the 2026 competition in Panama City, delivering a historic breakthrough for the country’s specialty coffee scene.

The reigning 2025 Malaysia Barista Champion secured his place on the podium after progressing through the preliminary rounds and semi-finals to reach the elite final six at the Panama Convention Center, where the competition ran from October 22 to 25.

Shing Win’s remarkable performance follows Malaysia’s previous best result at the prestigious global contest, when fellow Malaysian Jason Loo placed fourth at the 2025 World Barista Championship.

The achievement marks a defining moment for Malaysia’s coffee industry, demonstrating that the country’s baristas can compete with the world’s best on a stage traditionally dominated by established specialty coffee nations.

For Shing Win, who made his World Coffee Championships debut in Panama, the result is the culmination of nearly six years spent developing an understanding of coffee that extends well beyond the espresso machine.

Associated with One Half Roastery and Tri-Up Coffee, Shing Win has built his career across the specialty coffee supply chain, from sourcing green beans and working with producers to developing businesses and serving customers.

His journey into coffee began with a departure from conventional career expectations. Originally trained in finance and economics, he left office life after a short internship to pursue coffee full-time.

This was a decision that has now taken him to the podium of the world’s most prestigious barista competition.

Shing Win’s 2025 Malaysia Barista Championship routine. — Pictures from Instagram/World Barista Championship

At One Half Roastery in Petaling Jaya, he oversees business development and events, while his work with Tri-Up Coffee SEA involves green bean sourcing and market expansion. He has also served as store manager at artisanal bakery Dou Dou Bake.

That experience across the bean-to-cup journey informed a competition routine built around one of coffee’s most consequential variables: moisture.

During his 15-minute stage presentation, Shing Win explored how moisture levels influence coffee throughout its journey, from processing at origin and drying to the barista’s final extraction. 

His central argument was that managing moisture is not simply a technical exercise, but a responsibility that helps preserve, develop and ultimately reveal a coffee’s flavour potential.

For the competition he selected a traditional washed Geisha from El Pergamino, a specialty coffee producer in Panama. 

Shing Win (third from right) with other 2026 World Barista Championship finalists. — Picture from Instagram/World Barista Championship

The selection reflected Shing Win’s wider approach to specialty coffee: understanding that what happens at origin is inseparable from what eventually reaches the consumer’s cup. 

By connecting processing decisions with extraction and flavour, he presented the barista not merely as the final person in the chain, but as someone responsible for bringing the entire journey to its intended conclusion.

That philosophy has now carried him further than any Malaysian competitor before him at the World Barista Championship.

In a final featuring representatives from Australia, China, Canada, the United Arab Emirates and Thailand, Shing Win demonstrated that Malaysia’s coffee talent can hold its own among the international elite.

His podium finish also builds on the momentum generated by Loo’s fourth-place result last year, turning what was already a landmark performance into a new benchmark for Malaysian baristas.

For an industry that has spent years strengthening its roasting, sourcing, café and competition culture, Shing Win’s achievement is more than an individual accolade. 

This shows how far Malaysia’s specialty coffee community has progressed and is a promising sign of what its next generation of competitors might achieve.

Alberto Escobon (left) of Storm Barista Attitude presenting Shing Win with his award. — YouTube screenshot/World Barista Championship

From leaving a conventional career to pursue coffee full-time to standing among the world’s top baristas, Shing Win’s journey has reached a historic high point in Panama. 

Malaysia now has a new milestone to celebrate, and a new standard against which future World Barista Championship campaigns will be measured.

For more food fables and café chronicles, visit Life for Beginners.

KUALA LUMPUR, Oct 25 — When Kimchi Lai, 26, was announced the winner of the 2026 Giffard West Cup in Angers, France, on October 1, history was made. 

According to reports, Lai is the first woman to win the competition since it began in 1997 and the second Malaysian champion after David Hans in 2017.

For Lai, it all still feels very surreal. “I never imagined this would happen. It’s been surprising, overwhelming — in a good way — and when people congratulate me, it still doesn’t feel real,” she told Malay Mail, a week after the announcement. 

We were sitting in Reka:Bar, where Lai works, a few hours before her shift that night. “I don’t think I’ve processed all of it yet.”

The night before the final though, everything seemed to point to the opposite of a win. 

A mix-up during the drawing of lots meant Lai was unexpectedly slated to go first among all 19 finalists. “You can imagine the meltdown I had,” she said. “I was crashing out outside the venue; I was crying in my hotel room as T.J., the Giffard brand rep for Malaysia, and my partner Wei comforted me.”

After losing her translating and interpreting job to AI, Lai pivoted towards bartending full-time. — Picture by Choo Choy May

Watching over video call was her coach and mentor, Amanda Wan. “I remember feeling heartbroken that I couldn’t be there for her in person, but I was also annoyed at not being able to smack some sense into her at that moment,” Wan told me over text. 

“I told her everything I wanted her to hear, and I was not the only one telling her many versions of the same thing — that she would be alright, and no matter what the results were, we love her.”

But just one year earlier, Lai wasn’t even a bartender. Not full-time, anyway.

Lai, whose full name is Nicoles Lai Jie Ying, has gone by Kimchi for a long time. 

“My parents had the bright idea of giving their Chinese daughter a French name in a South-east Asian country,” she said. “I very much prefer Kimchi, but I’ve grown to appreciate my name a lot more in the past few years.” 

She has performed poetry since she was 17, though she rarely does these days. After a part-time gig in an ice cream shop led to a first-time encounter with bartending at Pahit in 2022, she spent the next few years working part-time in bars and events while juggling a full-time job translating and interpreting. 

Then, over the span of a couple of months, AI took over all of her translation work. “It was devastating and infuriating in all the worst ways possible,” she said.

She considers herself lucky to have had bartending to fall back on, and says it’s something she genuinely enjoys. 

Lai posing with her trophy after winning the Giffard West Cup 2026. — Picture by Christophe Martin

Many of her peers in the industry — translators, copywriters, transcribers — haven’t been so fortunate. “You blink, and your livelihood is at stake.”

With her translation work gone, Lai left it altogether and went full-time behind the bar. The hands-on nature of the job was a big part of the appeal. 

“It was the main thing,” she said. “I was so frustrated about having no clients in a month. Financially, it was tough, and it made my psyche hell-bent on the next line of work I do being something hands-on. I don’t know, I might’ve become a florist or something.”

AI hasn’t stayed out of her new industry, either. Asked what she makes of it in the food and beverage industry, Lai burst out: “Take photos of your food! Take photos of your drinks! You can’t even do that? I feel like it is bleeding into every single industry, and even though F&B is such a hands-on line of work, it still manifests in the form of menus and social media content … It’s happening, to say the least.”

Hospitality, she says, runs on something else. “The point of hospitality is connection. Hospitality, as an industry — if you chase perfection, it does not function. 

“At its core, you need to be human for connections to happen, for your customers to have a good time, and I think, maybe, we should start taking that into consideration?”

The job has a very human cost, though. “The biggest challenge with this job is how physical it is. I’m not a very fit person,” she laughed. “I’m super unfit. I never liked sports growing up, so the most challenging part is how physically demanding it is. But it fulfils my need to be in a line of work where you get how much you put into it.”

She was a year into bartending full-time and working at Three X Co when she signed up for her first-ever competition. But it was not in search of bragging rights or glory. Lai just wanted a raise.

“I felt that I needed to add value, so I proposed entering this competition, and the response was, ‘Yeah, sure,’ so I went and did it,” she said, laughing.

The pair of drinks: ‘Grain Potential’, a highball built on toasted glutinous rice cordial, dry vermouth and soda, with Giffard crème de cassis and a measure of vodka, and ‘You’ll Be All Rice’, cardamom rice milk with sake and vodka, rounded out with Giffard rose and coconut syrups. — Picture by Choo Choy May

She chose Giffard because it was familiar: the Giffard West Cup was the first competition she had ever watched, at Reka:Bar in 2022. 

“I wasn’t part of Reka then, but I thought it would be a nice little full-circle moment to join the competition and see what it’s all about. I joined very last-minute; I only submitted the recipe about a day before the deadline, but I’m glad I did.”

The Giffard West Cup is an international bartending and mixology competition established in 1997 and held every two years by French liqueur and syrup producer Giffard. 

The brief for 2026, which remained the same at every stage of the competition, was “Sip the Moments”: two complementary drinks, one for sunrise and one for moonlight.

Desperate for ideas, Lai started with a pair of abstract drinks about intention, named “Love You” and “Mean It.” 

“The first idea I had was super corny; thank goodness I didn’t go with it,” she said, dry-heaving.

Then she looked around her house and landed on a rice cooker, a Chinese New Year gift from her friend Sunny a couple of years earlier. 

She thought about the many stages of rice, and how, from sunrise to moonlight, she “liked to eat rice.” 

That led her to the Chinese idiom sheng mi zhu cheng shu fan (生米煮成熟饭), which means the rice has already been cooked.

It is usually taken to mean that what’s done is done. Lai read it another way: do your best at sunrise, and it’s okay if things don’t turn out by moonlight. “Sometimes the day cooks you.”

“Grain Potential”, her sunrise drink, is a long, stirred highball built on toasted glutinous rice cordial, dry vermouth and soda, with Giffard crème de cassis and a measure of vodka. 

Lai has long liked the nuttiness of toasted glutinous rice powder, a staple of Thai cuisine. “I made a really nice, nutty cordial that lingers in the mouth after each sip,” she said. Toasting the rice by hand is “an extremely smoky ordeal,” and the toasted rice is then sous vide’d in brown sugar syrup and acid-adjusted. The leftover rice is rinsed, dehydrated and used as the garnish.

“You’ll Be All Rice”, for moonlight, starts with rice milk. Lai wanted to know how the fragrance of rice translates into a drink, and her first reference point was horchata. 

“I didn’t want to put cinnamon because that would just be horchata,” she said. Nutmeg gave a poor yield and a bitter aftertaste; cardamom, infused into the milk and blended with ice, worked. 

The finished drink adds sake and vodka, with Giffard rose and coconut syrups, and comes with a cracker made from the same rice milk and a scatter of rose petals.

Wan, now the Beverage Director of Hong Kong’s Tastings Group, had been in Lai’s corner long before the Giffard West Cup. 

“We’ve been friends since 2022, and have worked together on other bartending gigs from time to time,” she told me. 

“When she lost her interpreter job to AI, I asked if she would give full-time bartending a try, and she did. We worked together for a year, so naturally I managed to assist her in her competition.”

She is very familiar with the stage Lai was walking onto. In 2010, Wan became the first woman to represent Malaysia at the Diageo World Class Bartender of the Year finals, and she later reached the global finals of the Peter F. Heering Sling Award in 2015. 

“Kimchi is very determined and resilient, which was great because I could be direct and precise with my feedback to her, knowing she wouldn’t take it personally,” Wan said.

Lai competing during the final on stage in Angers, France. — Picture by Christophe Martin.

The preparation began with a photoshoot, which Wan says took “an entire village,” then the copy, tweaked back and forth on Google Docs, and finally the routine. 

On their days off, Lai would set up an iPad and phone on a video call and run through her whole set while Wan took notes. They’d discuss what worked, reset the station and go again. 

“From the choice of words, the tone of her voice, and down to the length of every pause, I dare say her entire presentation is now burned into my memory as it is in hers,” Wan said. “There was a lot of yelling and yapping in between, but hey, it worked.”

That set, the same two drinks and the same performance, carried Lai through every stage. 

She won the Malaysian final, then the regional final in Manila, both while working at Three X Co. 

Between Manila and Angers, she moved to Reka:Bar, where both award-winning cocktails are available upon request.

Angers was the third time through.

By the time Lai stepped on stage, she was so tired from crying through the night that she was calm. 

“I shook throughout the Malaysia and regional finals, but I didn’t shake at all during the global final.”

Her years as a performing poet helped, too. Lai enjoys being in front of a crowd, and she says bartending competitions are theatrical by nature, though she has watched that fade in recent years. 

“I think we’re all too afraid or scared to be cringe, to commit to the bit these days,” she said. Her answer was to “be a bit campy, be a bit silly with it, but ultimately tell a story.”

Wan recalled watching from a quiet office, typing her reactions in capital letters and barely containing herself. 

“She landed line after line after line,” she said. “She was worried about going first. By the time she finished her set, we were worried for the rest of the finalists about her going first.”

Lai was announced champion, ahead of runner-up Ketut Masdana of Indonesia and third-placed Liv Rosengren of Spain.

Wan, who had seen her through every step, felt an overwhelming mix of joy, pride and relief, along with “blurry vision.” 

“I know how hard she worked for this and how much she wanted to win. She wanted it, so she did it.”

Standing behind the bar at Reka, Lai reflected on her win with an impassioned plea for the importance of community. 

“Humanity in general is not designed for solitude,” she said, pointing to AI and capitalism as responsible for “an age that is so hell-bent on prying us apart from each other.”

“You don’t have to talk to friends; talk to ChatGPT!” is the pitch, as she hears it. “It’s prying us all apart.”

“If my journey is a good example of anything, it’s that it takes a village,” she said. She is, in her own words, working class, an only child with no generational wealth, on hospitality wages, and she didn’t own a suitcase hardy enough for the travel, with all the prep and perishables. 

Her boss at Reka, Nick, gave her one. Friends and industry peers lent her freezer boxes. 

Two days before her flight, her carry-on broke, and her friend Jo lent her his. Another friend lent her a phone lanyard. 

Elena, a friend outside the industry who didn’t know what to give her as a send-off gift, bejewelled her teeth. Others sat in on practices, gave feedback, filmed her sets and gave up their time.

“None of this is possible if you do this alone. You need people,” she said. “It’s not about not being independent. Sure, I could’ve done this alone, but it would’ve been much harder, and less fulfilling. Because now I have so many people to share this win with; to share this joy with.”

* Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.

* Follow Ethan Lau on Instagram @eatenlau for more in-depth conversations.

KUALA LUMPUR, Oct 24 — You can always escape the chaos of the city, even if you don’t actually leave it.

No, you don’t have to check into a hotel and hole yourself up in your room (this sounds worse than any metropolitan mayhem, to be honest).

Instead, consider simply going out for a coffee. Not in a mall but in a café that feels more like somebody’s home.

With this plan in mind, we head to Gong Dou Coffee, located along the time-worn Jalan Goh Boon Hong in Taman Taynton View, Cheras.

With its cosy charms — thanks in part to exuberant, lush greenery contrasting with blackened, reclaimed wood for a lived-in ambience — Gong Dou promises a truly bucolic getaway in the heart of the city.

Barista making coffee with direct fire roasted beans. — Picture by CK Lim

The barista comes over with their coffee menu, explaining the provenance and profile of each varietal. 

This is a common enough experience in most cafés serving specialty coffee nowadays, but Gong Dou stands out by using direct fire roasted beans.

To be exact, direct fire roasted beans from YiLuDou, a micro coffee roastery, which is just downstairs from Gong Dou. 

After all, Jalan Goh Boon Hong is known for its iconic row of garage and mezzanine duplexes; recent gentrification meant that a number have been revamped into cafés.

That motif of the direct fire roasting extends to their revamped décor (consider Gong Dou Coffee a reinvention of Ah Gong House, its former incarnation in the same space), where choice accents are the result of yakisugi, a traditional Japanese technique for charring the surface of timber to protect it from the elements.

Instead of tracking down a Japanese yakisugi artisan, that owner Lois Loo had a woodworking friend of hers successfully replicate the process on the premises (outside, of course). Impressive!

Such attention to detail meant that we had high hopes for their curated selection of coffee beans too; we chose two, one natural processed and one washed.

Ethiopia Oromia Shakiso Hangadhi G1 as pour-over coffee. — Picture by CK Lim

First, for our pour-over coffee, we went with their Ethiopia Oromia Shakiso Hangadhi G1. Bright and expressive, the natural process gave the cup a gentle wine-like sweetness. 

As it cools, the fruit becomes more apparent: dried blueberry initially, followed by a darker cacao note. Light-bodied and clean, yet with enough complexity without being too syrupy.

This is exactly our style of pour-over brew, the sort you drink slowly, allowing the temperature change to bring out different flavours with each sip.

Milk coffee made with Colombia Finca Manantiales del Frontino Geisha. — Picture by CK Lim

To switch things up, we also ordered a milk coffee. Rather than a safe, balanced blend, we opted for their Colombia Finca Manantiales del Frontino Geisha.

Some might argue using this premium bean, with its limited availability, for a milk coffee to be a bit of a waste. Ah, but if it’s made properly, you can enjoy its delicate floral character with a creamier finish.

Hints of elderflower appear alongside a bright, pomegranate-like fruitiness. The fully washed process ensures a clean, sweet and fragrant cup, avoiding the pitfall of heavier fermented flavours.

Beyond coffee (and some non-coffee beverages such as matcha and 21-year aged pu-er), their small menu is split between brunch fare and teatime treats. 

The former features homemade quiches with fillings such as salmon and spinach, organic broccoli and mushrooms, as well as an Osaka inspired okonomiyaki quiche, topped with shaved katsuobushi (dried bonito flakes).

Given it was already afternoon, we leaned towards the latter with baked offerings ranging from passion fruit cheesecake to a heady mochi tiramisu, infused with Kahlúa and rum.

Strawberry ‘mochi’. — Picture by CK Lim

Mochi sounded good but we didn’t really feel like a boozy hit with our Japanese rice cake. Instead we opted for their strawberry mochi. Topped with a whole strawberry, this handmade pastry was surprisingly generously sized. 

The fruit itself is juicy and nicely chilled, which pairs well with the chewy mochi skin. Simple but balanced, with just enough sweetness in the soft rice dough without overwhelming the natural flavour of the strawberry.

We also shared a slice of coffee nut tart; having eschewed the coffee liqueur of the mochi tiramisu, we still wanted a dessert with some serious caffeine kick to it.

Coffee nut tart. — Picture by CK Lim

This tart has a biscuity, cake-like base, with a craggy edge that reminds us of an apple crumble. The filling is a layer of chopped hazelnuts brushed thickly with a sticky espresso glaze.

The espresso comes through clearly with every bite; expect a deep coffee aroma and a subtly nutty, roasted note that prevents the tart from tasting too rich or sweet. A confident, adult pastry, this.

You could lose track of time lingering over your coffee here, eyes wandering from the pots of slender fiddle-leaf figs that stretch towards the patio ceiling or the unruly mass of blue pea flowers in one corner of their verdant, tropical garden.

Part of the verdant, tropical garden. — Picture by CK Lim

As promised, a proper getaway in the heart of the city. Less of an escape though; perhaps, more of a discovery? And a fine one at that.

Gong Dou Coffee

29, Jalan Goh Boon Hong, 

Taman Taynton View, 

Cheras.

Open Wed-Fri 11am-6pm, Sat & Sun 10am-6pm, Mon & Tue closed 

Phone: 012-247 4710

IG: https://www.instagram.com/gongdoukl/

For more food fables and café chronicles, visit Life for Beginners. 

* This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal.

* Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems. 

PETALING JAYA, Oct 23 — As far as restaurant names go, Human Beings Everybody Noodles takes the cake.

It’s the translated name of Jinrui Mina Menrui, one of Osaka’s most popular ramen restaurants and a 2025 pick for the city’s top 100 ramen shops on Tabelog.

Tabelog is widely regarded as Japan’s most reliable restaurant review platform, famous for a strict, weighted scoring system under which 97 per cent of listed eateries score below 3.5 stars.

Jinrui Mina Menrui holds 3.75, if you’re wondering.

Takahiro Matsumura founded the restaurant in 2012, and it built a large following on housemade wheat noodles and a clean shoyu broth of clams and chicken bones.

That success gave him the foundation to launch a slew of other concepts, including the similarly eccentric The Most Deserted Ramen-Bar in the World and The Old Man’s Best Swing.

Last year, parent group Unchi Co announced a global expansion on its website.

This August, Jinrui Ramen arrived in Malaysia, opening its first location in Damansara Perdana.

To make sure its offerings are available to just about “everybody”, the outlet serves no pork, no lard and no alcohol.

Its website states that all ingredients come from halal-certified suppliers, though the restaurant itself is still pending halal certification.

The restaurant is full of art depicting historical figures like Albert Einstein and P. Ramlee eating ‘ramen’. — Picture by Ethan Lau

I guess pescatarians, vegetarians, and their ascetic branch, vegans, don’t count as “everybody”.

But in keeping with the theme, the space is littered with art depicting everyone from Einstein to P. Ramlee eating ramen.

Ironically, the images strongly resemble AI-generated art. The medium is the message, folks.

Sitting at the counter, I watched a “live” concert by a Japanese pop-rock band on TV. As time went by, I realised everybody in the restaurant was hostage to a never-ending loop of that same band’s concert videos.

But it wasn’t too bad, all things considered. Though I didn’t understand anything, it’s much, much better than being forced to listen to Ed Sheeran.

My always-listening phone later identified them as Mr Children, Matsumura’s favourite band, and a few blogs suggest most Jinrui locations blast them all day long.

The menu is focused: four variations of the broth (Premium, Micro, Macro and Red) and the same four for the dry mazesoba.

The Red is a spicy variant launched just for our Malaysian taste buds, while Micro and Macro are named after compilation albums by, you guessed it, Mr Children.

The calling card is the Premium (RM29): chewy, medium-thick wheat noodles in a clam and chicken shoyu broth layered with scallop oil.

Toppings are kept simple, with sous vide chicken chashu, sliced negi and fresh aka kaiware, red radish sprouts with a distinctly peppery bite.

A soy-marinated egg (RM3) costs extra. There’s a deep sweetness to the clear beige broth, and the clam comes through with real clarity.

It isn’t a salty, fatty, tonkotsu-esque affair, so if that’s what you look for in ramen, stop reading now.

The slick, chewy noodles are the real highlight. Whatever the ratio of soft to chewy is, they’ve found it.

A ‘ringan’, or lighter portion of ‘mazesoba’, Jinrui’s dry offering showcases its chewy noodles very well. — Picture by Ethan Lau

For more thorough enjoyment of the noodles, I opted to try them dry. Thankfully, the mazesoba also comes in a half-portion, which I ordered in the Micro (RM15).

Despite the name, it’s a veritable flavour bomb, powered by the savoury aroma of garlic.

It’s fairly salty, a sensation compounded by the irresistible texture of the noodles, but the saltiness is a little one-dimensional, and I’d struggle to finish a full bowl on my own.

The diminutive cubes of sous vide chicken don’t help. Diced chicken doesn’t cling to tossed noodles, particularly ones with this little oil, and you end up with a pile of rubbery bits at the bottom of the bowl.

The thick slices used for the ramen would have served it better.

It is, however, a real joy to see more regional and specialised ramen arriving in Malaysia.

After the initial wave in the early 2000s, the market settled into a narrow idea of the dish that revolved almost exclusively around tonkotsu.

But over the last few years, the arrival and success of concepts like Enishi and Minamo suggest there is a market for ramen beyond tonkotsu.

Jinrui is the latest to join the field, offering a ramen unlike anything else in our market.

Look for the sign on the ground floor of Neo Damansara. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Jinrui Ramen Malaysia

F-LG-06, Neo Damansara,

1, Jalan PJU 8/1,

Damansara Perdana, Petaling Jaya.

Open daily, 11am — 9pm.

Tel: 03-7613 9048

Facebook: Jinrui Ramen Malaysia

Instagram: @jinruiramen.my

* 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 ramen stories.

JOHOR BAHRU, Oct 22 — The row of red lanterns dangling on a wire. The white-washed walls of 19th century pre-war Chinese shophouses. The tall wooden window shutters.

And within one of these shophouses, some of the best coffee you’d taste in Johor Bahru.

A small flat white and a filter coffee at Sweet Blossom.

This is Jalan Tan Hiok Nee, one of the city’s heritage enclaves. I confess I haven’t been back in a decade or so, but I remember dropping by whenever I was in the area, especially for Hiap Joo Bakery’s signature banana cake, baked using a wood fire oven.

Much has changed since then. Hiap Joo still draws a queue of customers eager for their banana cake, but now they can enjoy it with an espresso or a freshly brewed pour over coffee too.

Barista and bags of coffee beans at Sweet Blossom.

Just a minute’s walk from the stalwart bakery is Sweet Blossom Coffee - Heritage Street. This is the second outlet by owner Ang Yeesiang; he opened his first café 11 years ago in Taman Pelangi.

While that original shop now functions as the Sweet Blossom HQ and roastery, with clientele made up of regulars, the Jalan Tan Hiok Nee branch attracts more tourists and passers-by looking for a caffeine fix.

Ang remembers I prefer a small flat white; for my friend, a local, he suggests a filter coffee made with Peruvian beans. 

Don’t miss the gelato at Ancora Gelato & Bakery.

Hailing from Doña Fica by Nixer Ordoñez Gómez, the extended fermentation washed coffee has jammy plum and rich raspberry notes and a scent reminiscent of lemongrass.

Ask the barista for recommendations if you’d like to purchase a bag of coffee beans to bring home. They also offer soft serve ice cream and affogato for those who crave something cool.

Next we are off to Jalan Dhoby, which runs parallel to Jalan Tan Hiok Nee. Together they form the bulk of what is known as Johor Bahru’s heritage hub, now reinvigorated with a fresh coat of paint and tourist-oriented shops.

Cups of Ancora’s gelato.

The latter runs the gamut from independent cafés, art galleries, retro thrift shops and, given our climate, more ice cream purveyors than one might expect given the neighbourhood’s size.

My friend has his favourite; he says we can’t visit the hub and miss the gelato at Ancora Gelato & Bakery.

The shop itself is clean and minimalist; expect pristine white walls and gleaming metal tubs of ice cream. Arranged neatly along the front counter, each tub offers a different flavour of gelato or sorbet.

There are classics such as strawberry and dark chocolate; nutty hits like pistachio, black sesame and hazelnut chocolate; as well as fruity sorbets, from mango passion fruit to lemon lemongrass.

There is even a tea-centric series of gelato, from the more common Earl Grey and Thai milk tea to more delicate concoctions such as osmanthus oolong, pu’er milk tea and jasmine with green grape.

Flowers in the Window, an all-day brunch and fusion café.

Share your personal preferences with the friendly staff and they will be more happy to suggest flavours, offering sample spoons to try and explaining the flavour profiles of each.

Taste the Mediterranean with a cup of their olive oil and lemon basil ice creams; Japanese accents are represented by matcha and hojicha.

Some of the more interesting flavours include tofu (reminds me of a light, extra creamy tau foo fa), Japanese cucumber (which, believe it or not, isn’t a sorbet but a gelato — and somehow works, each scoop refreshing and revelatory).

After this little pick-me-up, it’s time for something savoury and substantial. We cross the street to Flowers in the Window, an all-day brunch and fusion café.

The décor caters to visitors seeking a certain aesthetic: both verdant (creeping vines along the walls, cacti and hanging ferns) and vintage (repurposed old shop signboards, random collectibles and old records).

Which often means the menu is simply an afterthought; a few pretty plates to photograph to upload on the socials later. Fortunately that isn’t the case at Flowers in the Window, where carefully curated offerings tempt us mercilessly.

In the end, we decide on their Mexican Breakfast and Lotus Chips Salmon Bowl; our selection criteria revolving around the amount of protein and fibre, which I reckon is as good an ordering strategy as any.

Mexican Breakfast at Flowers in the Window

The Mexican Breakfast employs a tortilla as the canvas, then arranges spicy chicken chorizo (almost stew like), cool Cheddar, creamy avocado and a sunny-side-up egg in a colourful layer. Nachos and salsa on the side add a welcome crunch and a bright, tangy kick.

Avocado makes another appearance in the Lotus Chips Salmon Bowl; it is de rigueur for brunch staples, no? Here it is accompanied by chunks of salmon, pan-seared until its exterior develops a lovely crust, while the flakes of flesh remain tender and moist. 

Then there is the supporting cast – a smooth pea mash, sweet roasted pumpkin, a soft-boiled egg – and the crowning glory of fried lotus chips, light and crisp. A nutty peanut dressing ties the ingredients together.

Lotus Chips Salmon Bowl at Flowers in the Window.

Now this is what I call a meal: crunchy and creamy, smokey and savoury. All the flavours and textures you could want, and maybe a little more?

Which is perhaps the biggest surprise of my return to Jalan Tan Hiok Nee and Jalan Dhoby after so many years away.

These heritage streets have changed, sure. A bit gentrified, there’s no denying that. But also how you can now have a globe-trotting adventure here, all within a few minutes walk. Bon appétit!

Sweet Blossom Coffee—Heritage Street

23, Jalan Tan Hiok Nee, 

Johor Bahru.

Open daily (except Wed closed) 8am–4pm

Phone: 016-770 5139

Web: https://www.sweetblossomcoffee.com/

IG: https://www.instagram.com/sweetblossomcoffee/

Ancora Gelato & Bakery

29, Jalan Dhoby, 

Johor Bahru.

Open Sun-Thu 10am–10pm; Fri 10am–11:30pm

Phone: 011-5118 8354

IG: https://www.instagram.com/ancoragb/

Flowers in the Window

9, Jalan Dhoby, 

Johor Bahru.

Open daily 9 am–4 pm

Phone: 07-222 7489

IG: https://www.instagram.com/flowersinthewindowstore/

For more food fables and café chronicles, visit Life for Beginners. 

*This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal.

*Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.

KUALA LUMPUR, Oct 21 — Every culture (and perhaps nation) has its own dumplings, whether it’s Shanghai’s calling card of xiao long bao, tortellinis made by Italian nonnas, Japanese gyoza and the list goes on. 

Each fold tells a story of flavour, tradition and love in every bite.

Dumpling Daddies by Jonathan Ooi and Victor Yap is what happens when you start with a familiar flavour, pull apart everything — the wrapper, filling and even accompaniments like sauce and pickles — then build it all back again to create a truly unique dumpling.

Their eye-catching Ipoh Mali Chicken Gnocchi is a prime example.

It features mini chickens shaped from chewy taro swimming in a delicious bowl of chicken stock laced with prawn oil, shredded chicken, and, of course, stubby crunchy bean sprouts. 

Ipoh Mali Chicken Gnocchi (left) reimagines 'kai si hor fun' with mini chicken-shaped taro dumplings. Teba-Gyoza (right) isn't your ordinary grilled chicken wing as it's stuffed with Thai 'haw mok'. — Pictures by Ryonn Leong

Yes, the chicken dumplings take the place of noodles in this iconic dish paying homage to Ipoh’s kai si hor fun.

Everything with Malaysian flavours is fair game for the duo but they have one thing they hold sacred: it must be a proper meal, not gimmicky. 

“Anything that can be wrapped — not necessarily with flour — it could be translucent or even a rice dumpling wrapped in a leaf, we just want it to be fun.”

The seed for Dumpling Daddies was planted in a Tokyo cafe one evening last year. Yap was on holiday there with friends and Ooi was at that time working in the mega city.

They coincidentally discovered a shared dream of opening a dumpling shop envisioned as a neighbourhood place people would keep returning to. 

Laksa Lemak Prawn Ravioli (left) uses a 'jiaozi' wrapper to encase prawns in a rich laksa broth. Sweet & Sticky Beef 'Epok-Epok' (right) is a crispy vessel for a filling of Daging Masak Hitam Sarawak that uses raisins. — Pictures by Ryonn Leong

This dream took off when Ooi returned to Kuala Lumpur this year, as he is on a micro retirement from a two-decade-long career in beauty, luxury and creative brand development that started in Kuala Lumpur and expanded to Singapore, Hong Kong, Shanghai and Tokyo.

Of the two, Yap, a trained civil and structural engineer, is the one with an extensive F&B background having co-founded the now-closed Tray Cafe, Fittie Sense, Peaches & Cream and apricot by Peaches and Cream.

Together they wanted to explore food through an Asian lens with Dumpling Daddies.   

They are like two sides of a coin: Ooi’s creative mind comes out with the unique dumplings and the branding while Yap keeps him grounded with the techniques and real life F&B experience. 

And in case you are wondering, neither are real-life daddies but they occupy an awkward age bracket: too young to be “uncles” and too old to be “bros”; hence, “daddies” was chosen.

“The interesting thing about it is when dad takes over a kitchen, it’s chaotic and experimental like a fun concept,” Ooi explained.

They debuted their dumplings at a collaborative food party themed “Campur-Campur” at Dou Dou Bake in Petaling Jaya in September.

It was a collaboration with two friends: Chef Piyanat “Gugs” Yowabut of Homm House No. 8 and Melanie Kang of Mel’s Memory Kitchen. 

Gugs hosts his Thai supper club in PJ Section 17 while Kang does private lunches featuring Hakka and Peranakan dishes beloved by her own family. 

The Malaysian-style pop-up puts the best offerings on a table, allowing diners to feast on all kinds of food from different cultures and flavours that celebrate our diversity. 

Crispy Puri Bombs with Snapper Umai (left) offered the perfect one-bite combination of crunch and freshness. Cheers to Dumpling Daddies (right) for a fun party of dumplings, salads and grilled items.— Pictures by Dou Dou Bake and Ryonn Leong

As Dumpling Daddies worked on the dumplings, Gugs and Kang came up with platters of grilled meat, seafood and side dishes like Nyonya acar and Gai Yang skewers while Dou Dou Bake provided the desserts and drinks. 

Diners sampled the Laksa Lemak Prawn Ravioli, which originally started as a Teochew fish skin dumpling but changed into a prawn jiaozi in ravioli form, sitting in a creamy laksa sauce with fresh herbs and relish

Sweet & Sticky Beef Epok-Epok took many trials to get the crispy pastry right, until it was strong enough to hold the sweet sticky Daging Masak Hitam Sarawak. 

A permanent home for Dumpling Daddies is still in the works but in the meantime, the duo plans to cook and collaborate more with others to learn what diners want. 

“Ultimately we want to have fun with it,” Yap said.

Look out for the Encore edition of 'Campur-Campur' to be held from November 7 to 9, featuring (from left to right) Chef Gugs of Homm House No. 8, Victor Yap, Melanie Kang of Mel's Memory Kitchen and Jonathan Ooi. — Picture courtesy of Dumpling Daddies.

For those who missed out on the last party, an encore of “Campur-Campur” will take place from November 7 to 9, at In the Muments (IG:@inthemument), an event space next to Air Day Coffee (IG:@airday_coffee). 

Tweaks have been made to the menu, following feedback and observations from the first “Campur-Campur”. 

Their Edition 01 menu will be a six-course sharing experience featuring 11 dishes, with adjusted portions and a format allowing everyone to try the full menu. 

Reservations will go online at Air Day Coffee and Dumpling Daddies Instagram starting October 24 so secure your spot quickly. The first three-night party at Dou Dou was fully booked in 24 hours, so don’t say we didn’t warn you. 

Dumpling Daddies

Instagram: @dumplingdaddies.co

*Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.

KUALA LUMPUR, Oct 20 — There is something immediately comforting about a plate of grilled chicken. 

The way you become aware of it before it even appears at your table: the warm, woodsy scent of rosemary; the clear, citrusy hint of lemon.

It comes with a generous serve of creamy mashed potatoes, alongside broccoli and cherry tomatoes that add a welcome freshness and bite. 

The lemon-centric décor of Taman Desa’s Lemon Sole Café.

The chicken itself is tender and well seasoned, while the lemon cuts through the richness of the potatoes, preventing the whole dish from feeling too heavy. 

Unfussy and satisfying, I enjoyed this at Lemon Sole Café, a new casual dining restaurant in Taman Desa. 

Opened less than six months ago, Lemon Sole has already attracted a steady clientele of neighbourhood residents who enjoy hearty, unpretentious Asian and Western fusion fare.

Consider it Taman Desa’s latest soul food sanctuary.

Americano, iced and hot.

The name is especially fitting given the profusion of lemons throughout the space, from the striking mural of lemons and lemon blossoms on the feature wall to their use as a seasoning in some dishes.

Which makes it a no-brainer to order the aforementioned rosemary infused lemon chicken. What else on the “something for everyone” menu seems tempting?

Perhaps the ayam percik poke bowl? Or the chicken karaage buttermilk fettuccine?

Choices, choices. But first, something to drink.

We kept it minimalist with our beverages: Americanos, both iced and hot. The better to keep our palate clean and taste the flavours, possibly. Or, you know, because we needed the caffeine.

Nasi lemak with ayam rendang.

Whatever the reason, black coffee helps to keep our wits sharp and the conversation flowing. There is an ease in falling back to old patterns, catching up with our lives, sharing triumphs and tribulations equally, whether minor or major.

Life is connection, after all. It’s that simple, really.

The Americano cuts through the richness of the mashed potatoes, which in turn provides a soft, starchy bed for each bite of the lemony grilled chicken. Comforting.

For something more local, the restaurant also offers their signature nasi lemak with either breaded chicken or ayam rendang. We opted for the latter, naturally, in favour of a more complete Malaysian flavour.

The coconut milk infused rice grains are fluffy and fragrant; the chunks of chicken generously sized and tender. More crucially, for fastidious fans of nasi lemak, the fried ikan bilis and peanuts are fresh and crunchy.

All-day breakfast.

Fancy a little bit of everything? Lemon Sole also offers a classic all day breakfast. Expect baked beans and hash browns, sausages and sourdough. A fresh salad balanced with sautéed mushrooms and blistered cherry tomatoes.

Ultimately the food at Lemon Sole is a bit of East meets West — from the Japanese katsu curry to the pesto crusted seared seabass — with plenty of fusion choices along the way. (The bunga kantan aglio olio, for instance, sounds promising.)

Yet for all the variety in the menu, it is perhaps the convivial, community-centric ambience that is what stays with you long after you have paid your bill.

Red bean soup.

The friendly and helpful servers; the cheeriness of the citrus-accented décor; that sense of home and hospitality bundled in one cosy dining experience.

The latter is best exemplified by the unexpected complimentary bowls of tong sui — sweet red bean soup — which delights the Cantonese in me. A small gesture, sure, but heartwarming all the same.

And in these trying times, every bit of kindness helps.

Lemon Sole Café

45, Jalan 2/109E, 

Taman Desa Business Park, KL.

Open daily (except Mon closed) 9 am–9 pm

Phone: 03-7972 6163

IG: https://www.instagram.com/lemonsolecafe/

For more food fables and café chronicles, visit Life for Beginners. 

*This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal.

*Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.

PETALING JAYA, Oct 19 — Our relationships with restaurants are often as complicated as human ones.

We may love one or more dishes at a place that sees us returning many times until the next “flavour of the month” – as my friends call the trending food of the moment – entices us away.

But once we hear their story or connect with them beyond just a perfunctory relationship of placing an order, those invisible threads bind us to them.

You find yourself championing their cause, as it’s not a faceless person behind the restaurant, hired by a big corporation to take your money.

You can find that warmth at BigBasket Kitchen, a family-run place well hidden inside the often forgotten Millenium Square in Petaling Jaya Section 14.

I had once wandered inside the place to try Stand Pie Me when they opened their cafe there. Coincidentally their space was taken over by BigBasket Kitchen.

I first came across an earnest Threads post by the owner’s son (@vincentchin88) that tugged at my heartstrings as the place is run by his septuagenarian Hainanese mother, Margaret, and his Nyonya aunt Abigail Lim who has built her own home catering business for 10 years.

Do not smash down the rice ball, eat by topping it with chilli sauce followed by the blended soy sauce (left). For a final touch, add the ginger paste (right) on top before popping it in your mouth. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Fun fact: Lim is also the mother of Rachel who used to work at Stand Pie Me as the cashier — a role she reprises in BigBasket Kitchen with her friendly charm.

At the heart of this cafe is a small curated menu that revolves around family heritage, freshness and traditional techniques.

In this family’s story, the chicken rice reflects their Hainanese heritage, combining poached chicken and homemade rice balls — a dish everyone identifies as being from Melaka.

Those same rice balls, freshly made upon order for their Hainanese Chicken Rice (RM9.50), have a softness even when compressed into a ball shape; they easily come apart when you bite into them.

My closest association with rice balls is the triangular Japanese onigiri, a portable food designed for quick meals on-the-go or picnics.

‘Nasi lemak’ features a zingy ‘sambal’ with chicken ‘rendang’ and rice that isn’t too rich. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

In the Japanese manga Oishinbo, a rice ball showdown featured many flavours, ultimately won by the unforgettable taste of nostalgia: a mother’s warm hands softly creating the rice balls with the right firmness to break up in the mouth, just like how I envision BigBasket Kitchen’s rice balls are made.

You will also be taught how to relish these rice balls, just like how the family enjoys them.

Don’t smash the ball; the point is to relish its fluffy texture. However, my way is to halve the rice ball without crushing it, which makes it easier to eat.

Before relishing the rice balls, dollop a bit of their chilli sauce, followed by their blended soy sauce and finally the ginger sauce.

All sauces are made in-house and the poached chicken is also drizzled with their blended soy sauce.

On Fridays, there’s ‘otak-otak’ in all of its rich, creamy glory. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

It’s been years since I ate rice balls in Melaka and that memory focuses more on the long wait for my meal than on the taste.

To revive that taste, I tried a place in KL that offers Melaka chicken rice for a comparison.

Probably due to time constraints, they prepped the rice balls ahead of time and kept them warm in a rice cooker. This resulted in a slightly harder exterior which compromised the mouthfeel of the rice ball.

You can also enjoy their Hainanese Chicken Rice with a plate of rice if you prefer the conventional way but where’s the fun in that.

Even the poached chicken may be swapped with smoked chicken.

The ‘pulut inti’ is glorious here with blue marbled glutinous rice topped with grated coconut tossed in ‘gula Melaka’ syrup. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Nasi Lemak (RM9.50) is also done differently here; the side dishes rotate among kapitan chicken (Monday and Tuesday), chicken rendang (Wednesday and Thursday) and otak-otak chicken (Friday).

Using a brighter red sambal with sliced onions, the flavours are zingy rather than the typical sweet-spicy profile that brightens up the flavours.

The rice isn’t too rich or greasy with santan while the chicken rendang is covered liberally with the rich, creamy gravy and the meat tears easily from the bones.

On Friday, you get the best of both worlds: chicken rendang and otak-otak.

Wrapped in a banana leaf, the rich custard with a daun kaduk is soft and creamy with tender chicken inside. An extra otak-otak is RM7.50.

We all know that food is best relished when it’s freshest. Here, a made-to-order menu allows your Nasi Kerabu or Kerabu Bee Hoon to be prepared a la minute.

Pulut Panggang (left) features fragrant dried prawns and coconut filling. On certain days (right) there is ‘tong sui’ like ‘mak chuk’ made with wheat pearls to end your meal here. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

For dessert, there will be one type of Nyonya kuih daily, which rotates from a small list of kuih like Pulut Panggang, Pulut Tai Tai, Pulut Inti, Ang Ku Kueh and Kuih Bingka.

Lim meticulously prepares all these kuih, making each piece a labour of love.

Here, the kuih features a lighter touch of santan, perhaps for our well-being but it makes the glutinous rice slightly drier, which may bother kuih connoisseurs who prefer silkier grains in the mouth.

Pulut Panggang (RM5) was a happy surprise, heightened by the anticipation of unwrapping the cylindrical green parcel secured with toothpicks to discover a roll of glutinous rice.

It looks ordinary but a bite inside reveals a burst of sweet dried prawns mingling with grated coconut and a hint of kaffir lime leaves.

Another time it was a childhood favourite of mine, Pulut Inti (RM2.50), where blue marbled rice is topped with the inti kelapa or grated coconut filling mixed with gula Melaka syrup.

It’s best eaten fresh for the flavours of the soft glutinous rice mingling with the gula Melaka, coconut and the scent of the banana leaf wrapper.

Homemade tong sui (RM3.50) is also available on certain days like a creamy Mak Chuk or bubur gandum where wheat pearls are cooked till soft and scented with gula Melaka and coconut milk.

Occasionally, there may even be a bonus homemade fluffy, golden cake fresh from the oven.

Hidden inside Millennium Square, the restaurant has a bright outlook with regulars who come for their home-style, traditional eats. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

BigBasket Kitchen

Lot G-052, Ground Floor, Millennium Square

98, Jalan 14/1,

Section 14, Petaling Jaya.

Open on Monday to Friday, 10am to 5pm

Tel: 010-9272387

Facebook: @bigbasketkitchen

Instagram: @bigbasketkitchen

* This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal.

* Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.

PETALING JAYA, Oct 18 — Of the soup-filled dumplings to come out of Shanghai, shengjian bao has enjoyed far less love than its sibling, the xiaolong bao, famous the world over. 

Maybe it just isn’t dainty enough. 

After all, the thin, delicate skin of the xiaolong bao is a big part of its appeal: successfully wrangling one with our chopsticks and slurping the soup in a genteel manner feels like the work of an erudite epicure, especially when a friend reaches for a straw and still spills soup all over themselves. 

The ensuing feeling is a momentary but powerful hit of that sweet, sweet dopamine.

Straws are for suckers, we say, more smug than any dumpling has a right to make us. 

But all of this is likely just fantasy. 

Realistically, the global popularity of the xiaolong bao came about almost entirely from the success of a single company: Din Tai Fung. 

Without that kind of corporate backing, shengjian bao has had to rely on the disparate, grassroots efforts of countless street vendors and mom-and-pop shops. 

The huge sign with calligraphy on it is quite hard to miss. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Fitting, as it has always been the more rustic of the two — in every way. 

Closer to a bun than a dumpling, shengjian bao is made with semi-leavened dough — it rises more than a flatbread, but not like a puffy bun — and envelops the same pork and gelatin mixture that turns into soup after cooking. Instead of being gently steamed in a bamboo basket, it is traditionally fried in an oiled pan, with water sprinkled or sprayed over the top during cooking. 

The moisture steams the inside through while the bottom of the bun crisps up on the pan, like wo tip (potstickers) or gyoza. 

More substantial and durable than xiaolong bao, shengjian bao has been a popular breakfast and street food in Shanghai since the 1920s, its crunchy bottom and thicker dough making it considerably more portable.

But it hasn’t quite broken through in Malaysia, so your best bet for shengjian bao is places like Jia Yu Fang. 

The interior of the excellent ‘shengjian bao.’ — Picture by Ethan Lau

Located in Damansara Utama, the restaurant is barely a month old and has done little to update the decor left by the previous tenant. 

Instead, all the attention seems to have gone into the shengjian bao (RM3 per piece). 

For what looks like a quick, simple snack, they take a while to arrive — on my third and most recent visit, I learned that each bao is cooked to order. 

A fresh batch is made every day, but steaming and frying them takes close to 10 minutes, which feels like an age thanks to the restaurant’s insistence on playing an endless loop of smooth jazz à la Kenny G. 

When they do arrive, however, they are more than worth the wait — even the additional one or two minutes you’ll need to avoid burning the roof of your mouth. 

The inside was scalding hot, but when it had cooled enough to eat, the soup was sweet, very sweet, but resulting in a clean, refreshing sensation rather than a cloying one. 

Shanghainese red-braised pork is much sweeter and stickier than the Hunan variant, and this version stays true to that. — Picture by Ethan Lau

The pork and soup had a fresh, pure depth of flavour that’s often called xian tian (鲜甜) in Chinese, while the bottom of the bun was crunchy and caramelised too. 

Whether you’re eating it on its own or dipping it in some vinegar, these shengjian bao are some of the best you’ll find in the Klang Valley. 

Much of the rest of the menu was deserving of praise, but the red braised pork (RM46) in particular stood out. 

Shanghai-style red braised pork is well known for being much sweeter and richer than the classic Hunan variation, and this was no different. 

Where the sweetness described earlier carried a refreshing, crisp undertone, this was on the other end of the spectrum: rich, sticky and clinging to the lips long after the last bite of pork. 

It looks incredibly simple, but the chilli green egg is one of the most satisfying dishes on the entire menu. — Picture by Ethan Lau

All that soft, fatty cloyingness calls for something tangy, sharp and crunchy to balance it out, which the restaurant provides… in the form of a housemade kimchi that’s well impressive.

But the biggest surprise on the menu has to be the chilli green egg (RM18). It’s an exceedingly simple dish of eggs stir-fried with green peppers and onions, yet there is something unbelievably addictive about it. 

The eggs are formed into thin, fluffy strips, similar in shape and length to the slivers of pepper, which boast a wonderfully smoky and savoury flavour. A bowl of rice and this? My happy place.

Will shengjian bao ever get its own Din Tai Fung to carry it into malls around the world? 

It seems unlikely. 

For now, the case in Malaysia is being made one bun at a time by Jia Yu Fang, barely a month old and making a very fine argument on the dumpling’s behalf. 

Yes, you’ll wait, and yes, there will probably be smooth jazz. But come and order it anyway.

Jia Yu Fang Restaurant

72G, Jalan SS21/62, 

Damansara Utama, Petaling Jaya.

Open Tuesday to Sunday, 10.30am—10pm

Tel: 017-356 6897

Facebook: Jia Yu Fang Restaurant

* 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.

BANGI, Oct 17 — You can’t miss Restoran Roti Puri, in part thanks to its bright blue façade. 

Given its name, it’s no surprise that we are here for the shop’s popular roti puri and kuah at Restoran Roti Puri.

Personally, while I love restaurants that offer a varied menu, from nasi lemak to laksa, there is something to be said for eateries that focus on one dish and are rightfully beloved for it.

Restoran Roti Puri in Bandar Baru Bangi.

That single-mindedness might draw customers from afar but more often than not mainly residents from the surrounding neighbourhood. Which, in this case, is Section 3 in Bandar Baru Bangi.

Which is how we learned about Restoran Roti Puri in the first place; a former colleague stays in a nearby taman and swears by the shop’s roti puri for her weekend breakfast.

These soft and pillowy puffs are indeed a favourite for sarapan pagi but also a classic teatime treat. Regulars have been known to bungkus dozens of these balloon-like breads for their minum petang.

Frothy Nescafé 'tarik' and 'teh tarik'.

But there’s nothing quite like dining in and enjoying the roti puri right after they have been fried and drained. We can have our own minum petang (albeit a tad early) with hot, frothy Nescafé tarik and teh tarik.

I have to confess that when our orders of roti puri arrived, we were somewhat astounded by how large they were — these were nearly palm-sized!

Nearly palm-sized!

Their dramatic, high domed shape might be in part due to how they are made.

Unlike the traditional Indian poori, which is made with atta (whole-wheat flour) without yeast, the Malay version is usually made with more readily available refined flour and yeast, along with a little sugar and margarine.

And it is the yeast and margarine that give roti puri its distinctive character: fluffy, rather than crunchy.

Enjoy every bite with a spoonful of 'kuah'.

Once fried, the dough puffs up beautifully, resulting in a remarkably soft and pillowy bread with a gentle sweetness. Break one open and we get a soft, chewy interior — perfect for filling with a spoonful of kuah.

We enjoy almost every bite this way; when only a small piece is left, we dip that directly into the kuah, which is mildly spicy and has hidden morsels of vegetables. For those who prefer a spicier gravy, try their kari kambing or sambal sardin.

The shop also sells other local delicacies such as 'roti jala'.

The shop also sells other local delicacies such as roti jala, lontong and, yes, nasi lemak.

But the point stands: Restoran Roti Puri is famed for their namesake and deservedly so. Fresh from the fryer, they are absolutely worth waking up for.

Restoran Roti Puri

No. 14A, Jalan 3/70, 

Seksyen 3, Bandar Baru Bangi, 

Selangor.

Open Mon–Thu 7:30am–3pm, Sat & Sun 7:30am–12pm, Fri closed

Phone: 012-628 1520

For more food fables and café chronicles, visit Life for Beginners. 

* This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal.

* Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.

PETALING JAYA, Oct 16 — The name Nancy Don Theseira Kitchen might not be familiar to diners. 

Behind the scenes though is Don Daniel Theseira, better known for his previous business venture, Uncle Don’s. 

Forty years in the F&B industry is nothing to sneeze at and Theseira flexes his muscles at his own no frills venture that opened in the quieter Taman Mayang Jaya. 

He needs all that experience because the area is peppered with so many Western food eateries that a diner can hop around to find something to suit his/her wallet. 

The secret weapon here is their array of Melaka Portuguese curries with a stray Filipino Sisig.

Their Western food isn’t the run-of-the-mill items either. 

Take the Grilled Pork Chop (RM17.80), for example. 

It’s a notoriously difficult item that I often avoid because it’s frequently dry or tasteless, making me prefer staking my chances on something safer like Chicken Chop.

Their approach is very chef-like: pounding it to a thinner piece. Less time on the grill means it retains a juicy texture. 

For those worried about being shortchanged when it comes to the portion size, this isn’t the case; you’ll shudder if you’ve ever tried chewing a thick, stringy, dry pork chop that sticks to your teeth. 

Another layer of sauce is brushed on top of the grilled meat giving it a light flavour. Black pepper sauce is available should you wish for a stronger taste. 

Commercial French fries also win, as they are cooked to a golden perfection. 

Fries and a juicy pork chop are a recipe for a clean plate. 

Sisig is great with alcohol or paired with rice as you get a mix of textures from the finely diced pork and pig’s ears mixed with the egg. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Sisig (RM18.80) was a new one for me since I have never eaten it before. 

You can’t say no to finely diced pork with a little crunch from pig ear cartilage combined with a freshly cracked egg on a hotplate. 

There’s a touch of zing from the calamansi lime and a smidgeon of spiciness from finely chopped red chillies. 

I also spotted some stray strands of carrots and diced greens for health. 

What interested me most were their curries. Portions are sized more for solo diners and meant to be eaten with rice. 

It turns out there are clear winners that run out quickly, like the Wild Pork Curry (RM18.80) and Pork Leg Vindaloo Keluak (RM19.80). 

Salmon Mango Curry is kept warm in a small claypot; it has a thick curry with tangy mango pulp and a piece of salmon. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

I ended up with a Salmon Mango Curry (RM30.80) served in a hot claypot with rice, a fried egg, lettuce, cucumber and fish crackers. 

The thick curry has tangy, spicy hints, and the soft mango pulp pairs well with rice. 

Wild Pork Curry is spicy on the tongue with a thick curry mixed with tender pieces of pork including a stray pork belly slice.

Wild Pork Curry is a thick, spicy curry with tender pieces of pork. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Pork Leg Vindaloo Keluak may look watery but the collagen in the pork leg turns into wobbly jelly after a night in the chiller. 

The keluak flavour is definitely present but remains in the background behind the mild spiciness. 

This one is more for those who like gnawing on bones to get to the skin and meat clinging to the pieces. 

Pork Leg Vindaloo Keluak has a hint of the ‘keluak’ paste and one needs to gnaw on the bones to get the meat and skin. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Pineapple Prawn Sambal (RM18.80) is mildly spicy with small, bouncy prawns, mixed with a touch of sweetness from the pineapple. 

Other choices include Pong Teh, a Melakan classic with soybean paste, the fiery Devil Chicken Curry, Rendang (pork or chicken) and even Asam Pedas Fish, a favourite for those who live in Melaka.

Prawn and Pineapple Sambal is spicy and sweet, featuring bouncy small prawns and pineapple. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

There’s nothing fancy here; it’s just a neighbourhood place for families to get a good Western meal, sharing Bacon Nachos while they wait for pizza, a burger, or their choice of pasta or grilled meat. 

Alternatively, one can relax and wind down with munchies like fried luncheon meat, pigs in a  blanket (sausages enrobed with bacon), or just chicken wings. 

Judging from the wall display, those who pledge their loyalty to the Liverpool football team will find another fan here. 

The neighbourhood no-frills joint (left) attracts a mix of families and solo diners. Look for the restaurant (right) a few doors away from Origin Cafe in Taman Mayang Jaya. — Pictures by Lee Khang Yi

Restoran Nancy Don Theseira Kitchen

98-7, Jalan SS26/9, 

Taman Mayang Jaya, 

Petaling Jaya

Open daily: 12pm to 12am.

Tel: 017-5701985

Facebook: @Nancy-Don-Theseira-Kitchen

* This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal.

* Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.

KUALA LUMPUR, Oct 15 — I’ve long had an affinity for the Northern Thai dish khao soi, and since I’ve yet to visit Chiang Mai or anywhere in northern Thailand, I’m always hunting for that thick noodle-and-curry dish in KL. 

The results are often mixed. 

Northern Thai cuisine doesn’t enjoy the popularity of Southern and especially Central Thai cuisine here (think tom yum, pad thai, green curry), and what little representation it has is often based solely on Isan cuisine.

I suspect it’s partly a marketing problem. In Malaysia, khao soi is often described as the Thai equivalent of curry noodles. 

It’s a useful heuristic, sure, but one that usually ends in disappointment once you discover how little the two share. 

Instead of a soupy, seafood-based broth with plenty of curry leaves and chilli, with sambal on the side, khao soi is built on a deeply aromatic spice paste, simmered in lots of coconut milk and served with raw shallots and pickled mustard greens.

Like the rest of Northern Thai cuisine, khao soi shares influences and ingredients with Myanmar’s Shan State and China’s Yunnan province. 

Its roots lie with the Chin Haw, Chinese migrants, mostly from Yunnan, who made their way to Thailand via Myanmar and Laos. 

A significant minority were Muslim, which is why most versions of khao soi are still traditionally served with chicken. 

The dish carries hints of this history. 

The restaurant opened a little over seven months ago. Look for the purple words on the sign. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Pickled mustard greens are a Yunnan staple, and tsaoko, the Chinese black cardamom that grows in Yunnan’s highlands, is arguably the defining ingredient of the spice paste.

That context is usually missing, even at a little gem I recently found in Kepong. 

Granted, it’s not something that fits easily on a menu, but at Kao Mongkhol in Bandar Menjalara, there’s nary a mention of it at all. 

Barely seven months old, the restaurant focuses on khao kha moo and khao na pret, Teochew-influenced Thai braised pork leg and duck on rice, both hugely popular among Thai dishes in KL. 

Shrewd, considering the neighbourhood. 

But there is khao soi (RM13.90) and, more surprising still, khanom chin nam ngiao, a classic Chiang Mai dish with roots in Myanmar’s Shan State: fermented rice noodles (khanom chin) in a spicy pork rib and tomato broth. 

It’s listed under the northern name for the noodles, khanom sen (RM13.90).

Teochew-influenced Thai braised pork leg is very popular all over the Klang Valley, and it is the focus of the offerings at Kao Mongkhol. — Picture by Ethan Lau

The khao soi ticks all the requisite boxes: crispy wheat noodles on top, a braised chicken drumstick, and soft wheat noodles in a thick, complex curry. 

I won’t pretend my palate can pick out every component in the paste, but it has the warm, earthy and creamy profile I expect from khao soi. 

It’s less sweet than some versions I’ve tried, and on the milder side, so I added all the shallots and pickled mustard greens, then asked for more. 

I recommend you do the same, since the condiments are what bring the bowl into balance.

I also tried the khao kha moo (RM16.90) and kueh zap (RM15.90). I could confidently pick out five-spice and soy sauce in both, but neither was meltingly soft nor herbally robust enough to be notable. 

The air conditioning situation could use work, so I might wait for a cooler day, but otherwise I’m curious to come back for the khanom sen. 

It’s cheaper than a ticket to Chiang Mai.

Kao Mongkhol

7, Jalan 4/62A, 

Bandar Sri Menjalara, Kuala Lumpur.

Open Tuesday to Sunday, 10.30am—9pm

Tel: 016-276 9460

Facebook: Kao Mongkhol

Instagram: @kaomongkhol

* 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 khao soi chronicles.

KUALA LUMPUR, Oct 14 — Most establishments opened by Chinese expatriates in Malaysia often feature a mix of cuisines from all over China, capturing a small part of what they enjoy back in China. 

This Taman Danau Desa establishment is operated by two generations of a family originally from Shenyang, a city in Northeast China.

Come here for their roujiamo or “meat in a bun,” a popular Xi’an street snack that is essentially a Chinese-style hamburger.  

Variations of roujiamo exist with different buns and fillings but this place serves the Tongguan variety, which uses a thousand-layer bun that is crispy and flaky, making it stand out compared to a normal pocket size piece of bread. 

This is the Tongguan version with the round flatbread that has crispy, flaky layers paired with either pork or beef — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

As you crunch down on the round flatbread with paper-thin layers, you reach the fatty meat filling mixed with chopped coriander that oozes with its juices, providing an unexpected surprise. 

The flaky wonder comes with a pork filling (RM11) or a beef version (RM13); the pork version oozes sweet juices, while the beef one has a noticeably meatier flavour.

Be warned: one bite of flaky-crunchy-juiciness will hook you for seconds. 

Typically in Xi’an, locals pair roujiamo with Handmade Sesame Cold Noodles (RM11) or knife-cut Liang Pi with a bottle of orange-flavoured soda called Bing Feng or Ice Peak. 

Handmade Sesame Cold Noodles are made daily with wide ribbons paired with a sesame sauce, cucumber, bean sprouts and chili — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Made in-house daily, the cold noodles, which resemble wide ribbons, are tangled with sesame sauce, thinly cut cucumber,  bean sprouts and starchy wheat gluten. 

In Xi’an, the palate leans more sour-and-hot, which wakes up the appetite.

I’ve sampled boiled dumplings paired with vinegar and thin shreds of ginger or pan-fried versions but this combination of Dumplings in Sour Soup (RM14) elevates those hand-folded nuggets of pork and vegetables encased in smooth skin.

Dumplings in Sour Soup is an appetising way to enjoy boiled dumplings filled with pork and vegetables — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Amidst the sourness, you find an unlikely companion of seaweed in the soup, which imparts a silky softness.  

Don’t miss out on their Crispy Sweet & Sour Pork (RM27), their version of the iconic Guo You Rou, the Dongbei version of sweet and sour pork. 

It features large slices of pork tenderloin, not the small pieces typically used in sweet and sour pork. 

These slices are coated in potato starch and deep fried to a golden crust with bubbles that threaten to burst. 

Crispy Sweet & Sour Pork features thin pork tenderloin slices paired with a sugar-rice vinegar sauce that will have you asking for more — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

No tomato sullies this dish. Instead it’s a simple mix of rice vinegar and sugar, which takes on a golden brown hue from the sesame oil.  

Here, soymilk is freshly made, pulling you with the satiny goodness from the soy beans.

It’s also coagulated into smooth, wobbly soymilk custard laced with sweet syrup (RM4.50) — the typical flavour pairing — but spring for the Savoury Tofu Hua (RM5) with a velvety sauce and a dollop of chili sauce for a different flavour.

We only know the sweet version but try the Savoury Tofu Hua, a wobbly soybean milk custard paired with chili sauce — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Familiar classics pepper the menu, which are popular with many like the fish slices served with pickled vegetables or Sichuan peppercorns. 

Quick and easy meals for one can also be ordered, such as different rice bowls topped with tomato and egg, braised eggplant, diced chicken with chili, and the Stir-Fried Spicy Tofu Rice Bowl (RM14) which is their version of mapo tofu. 

Various rice bowls catering to solo diners can be ordered like this Stir-Fried Spicy Tofu Rice Bowl — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

The beancurd is diced and cooked with a spicy, deep flavour of Sichuan chilli bean paste and fermented black beans, making white rice an essential accompaniment.

For a finish that isn’t too sweet — the way many Chinese prefer — there’s Golden Fried Glutinous Red Bean Cake (RM3.50).

Golden Fried Glutinous Red Bean Cake (left) is a chewy not-too-sweet dessert. The restaurant (right) is hidden in a quieter area within Taman Danau Desa Business Centre — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

The slightly chewy mochi-like glutinous rice cake contains red bean paste and is best enjoyed with a cup of hot tea as you wind down a meal here. 

Fortune Cafe

11-0-5, Jalan 4/109F, 

Taman Danau Desa Business Centre, 

Taman Desa, Kuala Lumpur.

Open daily: 10.30am to 10pm

Tel: 017-6622565

* This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal.

* Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.

SEREMBAN, Oct 13 — This isn’t mum’s cooking. More like... grandma’s cooking?

Fine, gossamer strands of thin rice vermicelli swimming in a dark braised gravy that is more soupy than saucy. 

Chunks of pork, some lean, some fat. Then the sudden pop of a cephalopod tentacle.

This is a plate of squid bee hoon, as old school as you get. As close to grandma’s cooking as you’re likely to get outside your home. Or, to be specific here, Coffee Tiam Foo’s Cooking.

Located along the always bustling Jalan Temiang in Seremban, Coffee Tiam Foo’s Cooking is an institution in the old town area. 

Certainly the place is packed and parking can be a challenge, but neither has deterred hungry customers, naturally.

The shop is open past lunchtime but most of the crowd is here for breakfast (which in Seremban often comes as a substantial bowl or plate of noodles).

Though one never starts with noodles, not immediately. One must appreciate proper protocol: kopi first, please. Caffeine before carbs.

Coffee here is still made the traditional way, with long-spouted coffee pots and flannel filters. The result is a strong brew, rich and intense. More bitter than sweet, to properly wake us up.

We enjoy our cups of kopi kaw with the requisite orders of half boiled eggs and butter kaya toast. 

‘Kopi’ and half boiled eggs.— Picture by CK Lim

The latter looks joyfully retro with its slightly irregular, rectangular shape, perfect for dipping into the eggs as thick soldiers.

Still, noodles are the main attraction here at Coffee Tiam Foo. Besides the squid bee hoon, other favourites include their Hakka mee (a Seremban staple), pork noodles, laksa, claypot loh shu fun and loh mee.

The last two also make an appearance, sort of, in a third dish that the proprietor recommended to us: Ah Yee loh shu fun.

Here the noodles of choice are the Hakka “silver needles” or loh shu fun (thinner and longer than the loh shu fun we are used to back in the Klang Valley). 

Butter ‘kaya’ toast. — Picture by CK Lim

But instead of a dark, caramelised claypot sauce, we have a thick, gelatinous gravy reminiscent of a loh mee, albeit clearer in colour.

Topped with minced pork, fried shallots and ribbons of Chinese style omelette, this is a hearty dish meant to keep one’s belly full for a full day of work ahead.

To go with our noodles, we shared some yong tau foo (another signature menu item of Coffee Tiam Foo), both the fried and soup versions.

There are over a dozen types of yong tau foo available, from fried sui kow and bean curd puffs to bitter gourd and eggplant filled with pork and fish meat. Homemade meatballs, crispy pork skin, fried tofu, stuffed chillies, and more.

Ah Yee ‘loh shu fun’. — Picture by CK Lim

All of it fantastic, though our favourite is their fish skin wrapped fish cake. One of the fried varieties, the crunch of the fish skin makes it so addictive... one piece won’t be enough.

Nor indeed, for some, just one plate of noodles.

For the flavours remain nostalgic, evoking that longing for home cooking at grandma’s house. Where else would one pair fresh, springy squid with luscious pork belly and a dark, heady gravy?

Fantastic ‘yong tau foo’, including a fish skin wrapped fish cake. — Picture by CK Lim

Coffee Tiam Foo’s Cooking 傅幫煮

389A, Jalan Temiang, 

Seremban.

Open daily (except Fri closed) 7:30am–3pm

Phone: 010-761 9366

For more food fables and café chronicles, visit Life for Beginners.

* This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal.

* Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.

KUALA LUMPUR, Oct 12 — You know you are in the right place when you meet someone from Sarawak at So Good Kolo Mee and are told the food here is just like what they enjoyed in their hometown. 

It was an unexpected meet-up with old friends who once bonded over good food — a trait carried on till today as they excitedly shared their favourites here. 

Originally a food delivery business, their popularity with clients prompted them to pivot to a brick-and-mortar location.

Backed by many years in the F&B industry in a commercial set-up, this place is their own business offering eats just like what you can get in Kuching, using family recipes passed down for many generations. 

Be prepared to wait for a table on weekends as the space is limited with half of the area occupied by the open kitchen. 

Your patience will be rewarded with a bowl of their Original Kolo Mee (RM8) — springy, thin egg noodles tossed in lard and topped with minced pork, crispy lardons, pork balls, sliced fish cake and the distinct red-coloured char siu. 

‘Wantans’ are generously filled with a juicy pork filling. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Two supporting actors — pickled chillies and fried shallots — bring the al dente strands to life. 

A small piece of pickled chilli gives it zing while the fried shallots add a layer of sweetness. 

There’s also the sweeter red version tossed in char siu sauce and you can swap the curly strands of noodles for loh shee fun and wantan noodles. 

A bowl of their homemade wantans (RM8 for 10 pieces) is the perfect accompaniment for the noodles.  

This could be one of the best ‘kueh chap’ in town; its braising liquid made with 23 herbs is so fragrant you’ll want to drink every drop. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

The dumplings, pinched by hand, come generously stuffed with a juicy pork filling. 

No wonder my friends were raving about their Kueh Chap (RM12); it’s a bowl of goodness I’d happily order again. 

The dark brown braising liquid is so fragrant from the use of a whopping 23 herbs, following a recipe passed down four generations. 

It includes pork belly, a hard-boiled egg, tofu puffs, pig’s ear, intestines and curled-up rice noodles with a chewy bite.  

You can also swap the noodles with rice. 

Sarawak Laksa Special isn’t your run-of-the-mill version as they make their own paste creating a lighter flavour that tastes homemade. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Laksa Sarawak Special (RM14), which costs an extra RM2 compared to the normal laksa, includes a generous portion of poached prawns, shredded chicken, omelette and bean sprouts. 

Unlike other stalls, their laksa is built from their own paste, using spices and herbs they select. 

It’s lighter, more natural and not as heavy in taste; nor is the broth gritty, making it easy to drink till the last drop.

For convenience, they are also available on delivery platforms like Shopee Food. 

Located on an elevated area, you can spot the restaurant from the traffic lights. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

So Good Kolo Mee 

1, Jalan Koop Cuepacs 4A, Taman Cheras Pertama,  Cheras, Kuala Lumpur. 

Open: 9am to 9pm. 

Closed on Wednesdays.  

Tel: 014-6241319 

Facebook: @So-Good-Kolo-Mee 

Instagram: @sogoodkolomee

* This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal.

* Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.

KASAULI, Oct 11 — Writer Salman Rushdie once described the Himalayas as “land’s attempt to metamorphose into sky”; even at its foothills, the world’s tallest mountain range feels otherworldly and awe-inspiring, befitting a place that has long been the backdrop for mythical tales of spirituality and wonder.

Peel away the Orientalist mysticism, however, and a much more grounded — yet no less sublime — picture of the region emerges.

The Himalayas span five countries: Nepal, India, China, Bhutan, and Pakistan. In India alone, the range covers 13 states and union territories, from the disputed region of Kashmir to Himachal Pradesh, home to Shimla, the summer capital of the British Raj.

In the latter state, agriculture and, increasingly, hydropower anchor the economy, with tourism a significant contributor.

And as of 2023, Himachal Pradesh is also home to India’s most ambitious restaurant: NAAR.

Perched at the edge of a cliff above the pine forest, NAAR is part of Amaya, a 25-acre boutique hotel near the remote village of Darwa in the Solan district of Himachal Pradesh.

Few would dispute the description: Kasauli, the nearest town, is 45 minutes away, while the closest airport, in Chandigarh, is a two-and-a-half-hour drive down hairpin bends on steep dirt roads.

NAAR, the Kashmiri word for fire, is Chef Prateek Sadhu’s ode to Himalayan produce and cooking.

After working at some of the most illustrious restaurants around the world and opening one of the best restaurants in India, Chef Prateek Sadhu decided to head up into the Himalayas, which inspired him to open NAAR. — Picture by Pankaj Anand, courtesy of NAAR

A native of Kashmir, Sadhu trained at the Culinary Institute of America before working in the kitchens of Alinea, The French Laundry, Le Bernardin and Noma.

In 2016, he returned to India to open Masque in Mumbai, where he introduced diners to deeply regional cooking rooted in the produce and traditions of Kashmir.

Under him, the restaurant ranked No. 21 on Asia’s 50 Best Restaurants list in 2022 and was named the best restaurant in India that year.

That year, at the height of Masque’s acclaim, Sadhu quit and headed for the Himalayas in search of inspiration.

A year later, NAAR opened. “It was a gamble,” Aashina Kaul, Sadhu’s wife, who runs the restaurant’s operations, told me.

“We were afraid that nobody would be crazy enough to come all the way out here for a meal.”

During my visit on a Tuesday afternoon, the 16-seater restaurant was full, and the busy season hadn’t started yet.

Sadhu told me October typically marks the beginning of it, when affluent Indians travel from across the country to the luxury developments around the region — Shimla is particularly popular — for a winter getaway.

Recognition is arriving alongside the crowds: earlier this year, NAAR ranked No. 30 on Asia’s 50 Best Restaurants list, and this week, Condé Nast Traveller India named it the number one restaurant in India.

The 14-course meal (6,800 INR, RM287) begins with cocktails and snacks at the salon, a small building separate from the main restaurant.

Berries, mushrooms and, unsurprisingly, pines make up the base of many tinctures and liquors, but so does trout.

Though the fish isn’t native to India, it has thrived in Kashmir’s glacial streams since the British introduced it in 1900.

It appears in five courses across the menu, but my first taste of it came in a cocktail: charcoal-filtered tequila infused with smoked trout bone, a pickle of stone fruit, garlic and mustard seed, and trout bone bitters.

It went down like a guilty pleasure cigarette and a filthy martini at the same time, which is to say, wonderfully.

The first snack, a bhangjeera leaf fritter with tomato jhol (a thin gravy) and tomato seed chutney, sets the distinct anise flavour of a perilla leaf against the tang of tomatoes.

Trout reappeared in the second, which Sadhu described as a “trout belly sandwich”. Cubes of trout dressed in a chutney of sorrel and fresh chilli are tucked into a thin, crisp buckwheat flatbread.

A significant crop across the Indian subcontinent, buckwheat is particularly associated with festivals like Shivratri and Janmashtami, when fasting Hindus eat only food made from its flour.

A Kashmiri tujj followed. Typically a skewer of grilled mutton, NAAR’s version uses lamb rump, brined overnight, then grilled with a mustard and chilli glaze.

The onion emulsion served alongside cushions the char and heat of the meat like an allium pillow.

A cocktail made from trout bones (left). ‘Tujj’ is a popular Kashmiri grilled skewer. At NAAR, lamb rump is brined, then glazed and grilled and served with an onion emulsion (right). — Photos by Ethan Lau

Next came askalu, a Himachali snack that resembles a mini deep-fried doughnut.

Traditionally made with rice flour, NAAR’s uses tapioca instead, and is stuffed with duck and topped with a golden raspberry and mountain pepper masala.

The berry, which came into season that week, is much sweeter than its red counterpart.

Golden raspberries, which come into season in September (left). Inside the restaurant at sunset (right). — Picture courtesy of NAAR

We were moved into the main restaurant for the rest of the meal, where the dark synths of Depeche Mode replaced the funky screeching of James Brown at the salon.

Though the restaurant’s reverence for foraging and hyper-seasonal produce could easily come across as lofty and high-minded, there was a playfulness to the way the team moved and interacted with guests.

Less like self-serious acolytes of a new-age cult, more like curious, earnest children at the best summer camp in the world, if those children were skilled cooks and servers.

A quartet of trout courses followed a bowl of corn custard paired with a chewy sabudana bread, or, as we know it better in Malaysia, sago.

The course that left the most lasting impression was the one where I could recognise every component: a layer of smoked trout roe, glistening under the sun, on an unlikely bed of salted banana custard and banana honey.

The banana’s sweetness stayed on my tongue between bursts of salty roe, opening my mind to an entirely new way of experiencing sweet and salty.

Next came trout trimmings in a crisp, refreshing broth of raw mango and green apple, topped with a dill foam, and then “Dirty Toast”, on the menu since NAAR opened and named for the mess it leaves behind.

A wedge of sourdough inspired by Ladakhi khambir is laden with apple and chilli chutney, onion jus and a Himalayan mustard sauce, and crowned with a thick hunk of lightly charred trout.

‘Dirty Toast’ has been on the menu since NAAR opened (left). — Picture courtesy of NAAR. ‘Sundarkala’ is a type of hand-rolled noodle from Uttarakhand, a state that borders Tibet (right). — Picture by Pankaj Anand, courtesy of NAAR

No shade to the lox and bagels and tuna melts of the world, but I doubt I’m topping this anytime soon.

The quartet closed with a portion of trout belly in a curry of trout bones and pickled chillies, to be lapped up with tilvor.

Known as “the Kashmiri bagel” for its shape, tilvor has sesame and poppy seeds sprinkled over a crusty exterior that gives way, when torn, to a soft interior.

And then there was a bowl of noodles. Sundarkala are a type of hand-rolled noodle from Uttarakhand, a state to the east of Himachal Pradesh that borders Tibet.

Traditionally made with finger millet and wheat, NAAR’s uses buckwheat instead. Thin and flat like cu mian (thick wheat noodles) but without the alkaline spring, they had a tender bite.

They sat in a broth made with timur, a brighter, more citrusy cousin to the Sichuan peppercorn, alongside lamb gyurma, a Tibetan blood sausage.

Meaty depth meets a citrusy, numbing tingle, with buckwheat noodles playing matchmaker.

By the time the penultimate course rolled around family-style, almost three hours had passed and I hadn’t felt a second of it.

Two dishes flanked a large pot of rice infused with tomato chutney: a mild, cream-coloured yoghurt curry with foraged morels, and barbecued pork with a pumpkin seed sauce.

The view from the restaurant. — Picture courtesy of NAAR

Sadhu made a point of telling us he wouldn’t tell us how to eat it, though he hadn’t for any of the earlier courses either.

This one needed telling least of all. I spooned hunks of tender pork and meaty morels onto my rice, the spongy caps releasing the rich yoghurt curry all over my plate, then zhuzhed it all up with a few teaspoons of NAAR’s house hot sauce.

A sorbet of sea buckthorn, a very, very sour berry, with timur custard, orange oil and honeycomb cleared the way for a finale of pickled peach with almond cream.

Both were sharp and satisfying, though by then the meal had begun to blur.

NAAR had taken my taste buds on a whirlwind tour through a famously mythicised region, one specific ingredient and tradition at a time.

I had touched the berries, smelled the shrubs and eaten the leaves, all tangible, and yet, without much context for the centuries of history and millions of people behind them, I felt myself sink into awe.

Afterwards, outside, all I could do was look up at the sky, which felt only slightly out of reach, and my mind began to wander — and wonder.

NAAR

VPO Darwa, Sub Tehsil-Kishangarh, 

Kasauli, District Solan, 

Himachal Pradesh, India

Open Tuesday to Sunday, 12.30pm—3pm, 6.30pm—11pm

Tel: +91 88004 22053

https://restaurantnaar.com

* Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.

* Follow Ethan Lau on Instagram @eatenlau for more tales of restaurants from all over the world.

KUALA LUMPUR, Oct 10 — One of my favourite discoveries during my visit to Seoul many years ago was a seasonal Korean café beverage called goguma latte (고구마 라떼).

Goguma (Korean for sweet potato) is especially popular during the colder months. Roasted sweet potatoes are sold as a winter snack while cafés have creatively transformed the humble tuber into the aforementioned drink.

Uncooked sweet potatoes. — Picture by CK Lim

Essentially steamed sweet potato blended with milk or soy milk, goguma latte is naturally sweet and comforting.

I’ve decided to put my own spin on this, albeit via a slightly different route. Instead of dairy milk, how about fresh, homemade soy milk?

Raw organic soybeans. — Picture by CK Lim

The soy milk (known as doujiang in Mandarin) provides a familiar nutty flavour and naturally creamy body, which matches the mellow sweetness of the sweet potatoes perfectly.

Then there is the luxurious, lavender hue of the sweet potato soy milk (I’ve used purple sweet potatoes specifically for this effect), which simply whispers “cosy”, no?

SWEET POTATO SOY MILK

Cups of frothy, lavender-hued soy milk. — Picture by CK Lim

There are, naturally, more straightforward ways to make soy milk. So consider my approach more of an infusion... or fusion, as it were.

Even then, most recipes suggest blending the soy milk with the additional ingredient. This is easier, of course, but I find the result a tad clumpy as all the fibre is still retained in the blended milk.

How I do this differently is to blend the soaked raw soybeans with the cooked sweet potato before straining everything together. 

Yes, this is an extra step but it means the finished sweet potato soy milk is silky smooth and creamy without any sludge.

Speaking of “sludge”, let’s not forget the leftover pulp. Don’t throw it away!

Because the soy beans and sweet potato are blended together, the douzha (literally “bean dregs” in Mandarin) is highly nutritious. Plenty of soy protein and fibre from the sweet potatoes.

Me, I like stirring the douzha into my morning oats as it cooks (the soybean pulp is still raw, remember, so you still have to cook it). It thickens the oats naturally and adds a mild sweet potato flavour.

Note that I’ve added no sugar as the natural sugars and starches from the sweet potato give the blended soy milk a gentler, less cloying sweetness.

Ingredients

100 g dried organic soybeans

2 medium purple sweet potatoes

1.2 litres filtered water

Method

Rinse the dried organic soybeans thoroughly. Place them in a large bowl and cover with plenty of water.

Soak the beans overnight until fully rehydrated. Drain and rinse well.

Soak the soybeans overnight. — Picture by CK Lim

Steam the sweet potatoes for about 12 to 15 minutes, or until a fork slides easily through their centres. Allow it to cool slightly.

Transfer the soaked soybeans and steamed sweet potatoes to a blender. Pour in the filtered water and blend on high for about 2 minutes, or until the mixture is smooth and milky.

Blend the steamed sweet potatoes and soaked soybeans together. — Picture by CK Lim

Drape a muslin cloth or cheesecloth over a large cooking pot. Pour the blended mixture into the cloth.

Collecting the ends of the cloth together, squeeze firmly to extract as much of the liquid as possible. Continue squeezing until the pulp remaining in the cloth feels relatively dry.

Strain the blended mixture through a muslin cloth or cheesecloth. — Picture by CK Lim

Place the pot over medium-low heat. Stir continuously, making sure to scrape the bottom of the pot to prevent the sweet potato starch from settling and burning.

Bring the liquid to a gentle simmer. Once simmering, reduce the heat to low and cook for 15 minutes, stirring regularly. This cooks the soybeans thoroughly and removes any raw bean flavour.

Remove from the heat and pour directly into cups. Best served warm.

For more Weekend Kitchen stories, visit Life for Beginners.

KUALA LUMPUR, Oct 9 — Back in June this year, Apong Guan announced they would relocate to Kuala Lumpur.

Well, their food truck is now open daily, parked in front of Hong Leong Bank Berhad in Pandan Indah.

For more than 50 years, Uan Cheng Guan served Penangites their favourite fluffy santan-scented pancakes topped with bananas and corn from his truck parked along Jalan Burma.

As you queued and patiently waited for the pancakes to be cooked, he would entertain everyone with his storytelling.

The food truck uses an electric griddle to cook the fluffy coconut milk pancakes. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

The 79-year-old has now hung up his apron, passing the business to his son Alan Uan.

Alan once worked in Kuala Lumpur, which influenced his decision to relocate to the city to seek a bigger market for their family apom that few other places offer.

Alan set up his truck differently: he uses a modern electric griddle instead of the gas fire-griddle his father used, which was required for licensing.

He also supplies the batter to other operators back in Penang.

Peanut butter with coarsely chopped nuts is dolloped over the pancakes topped with bananas. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Since few people know about their presence in Pandan Indah, it is currently quite quiet.

He prepares the pancakes in batches for customers to take away upon ordering because the electric griddle takes time to heat to an optimal temperature for cooking.

He explained that once the electric griddle reaches the right temperature, it produces apom of a more consistent quality.

Three versions are available: Apom Pancake Original with sliced bananas and sweet corn (RM8 for 5 pieces), Apom Pancake Peanut Butter (RM9 for 5 pieces), and Apom Pancake Pandan Flavour (RM9 for 5 pieces).

Apong Guan is famous for its fluffy, coconut scented 'apom' with bananas and corn niblets. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

The apom is indeed fluffy with a delicate, spongy crumb, grated coconut and the sweet scent of freshly squeezed coconut milk.

When eaten hot off the griddle, the apom is especially fluffy. Once it cools down, the coconut fragrance is stronger and they are easier to eat without burning your fingers.

Peanut butter is a new flavour, offering the rich flavour of the smooth peanut butter and coarsely chopped nuts, paired with the apom and ripe banana.

Apom Pancake Pandan Flavour has a light green colour because fresh pandan juice is used, and it pairs with grated coconut inside the coconut milk batter. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Pandan-flavoured apom comes in a light green hue because Alan uses fresh pandan juice, and it pairs perfectly with the coconut flavour, grated coconut and banana.

For those unable to visit the food truck, the apom can be ordered on FoodPanda, Grab Food and ShopeeFood.

Find the food truck parked opposite the Hong Leong Bank Berhad Pandan Indah branch along Jalan Pandan Indah 4/1. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Apong Guan

Foodtruck parked along Jalan Pandan Indah 4/1 (Opposite Hong Leong Bank Berhad Pandan Indah branch), Pandan Indah, Kuala Lumpur

Open daily: 8am to 4pm. 

Tel: 017-5006107

* This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal.

* Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.

KUALA LUMPUR Oct 8 — We ordered not one, but two plates of the duck egg char kway teow at Next Gen Kopitiam in Maluri, Cheras.

Now, this isn’t because we were regulars who had tasted these noodles many times before; we were, in fact, first time visitors.

Why then the vote of confidence?

If anything, I have learned to trust the recommendations of my friends. One of whom worked nearby and tells me how she’d drop by Next Gen Kopitiam for her char kway teow fix.

That’s good enough for me.

Next Gen Kopitiam in Maluri, Cheras. — Picture by CK Lim

Though, when we first arrived, having walked a few minutes from the nearby MRT station (parking is, quite frankly, horrendous in this area; public transport will keep you sane), and saw the shop had an air-conditioned area, I couldn’t quite but wonder if my friend’s loyalty is due more to the comfort than the char of the kway teow.

But I have learned to have faith in my friends till proven wrong (and I rarely am).

The char kway teow stall owner, Uncle Wong, runs it alone which is admirable considering how most other stalls at the kopitiam hire helpers.

Back inside (yes, like my friend, we opted for air-conditioned seating inside the shop), our orders of coffee and toast soon arrived.

Rich and ‘kaw’ salted ‘cham’. — Picture by CK Lim

First, our requisite cups of cham, one hot and one iced: these are rich and kaw, every sip intense and robust.

We checked with each other and agreed that the local coffee was salted, which hits the spot especially with the iced version.

The shop offers the typical range of roti bakar, including the redoubtable butter and kaya, but their signature is a salted egg yolk version called the Golden Toast.

The shop’s signature Golden Toast. — Picture by CK Lim

Sounds gimmicky, or at least that’s what we thought at first. The appearance wasn’t the most impressive either; the salted egg yolk topping resembles a monotonous layer of mentaiko.

Looks can be deceiving, of course. Rather than entirely salty, the creamy topping is closer to salty-sweet, which parallels and pairs well with the salted cham.

The crust is lightly toasted but tear into the bread and you’ll realise the crumb is almost steamed, perhaps thanks to the impermeable layer of salted egg yolk cream.

Liquid manna: half boiled eggs. — Picture by CK Lim

Toasted and fluffy? Now this is a textural contrast we relish.

Have this alone or dipped into the luxurious cham or liquid manna in the form of half boiled eggs.

Time for our “main course” — our duck egg char kway teow. Uncle Wong fries each plate of char kway teow individually so they might arrive separately but you’re assured of freshness, so to speak.

Uncle Wong fries each plate of ‘char kway teow’ individually. — Picture by CK Lim

I usually prefer a “dryer” style of char kway teow; Uncle Wong’s version does look wetter than your typical char kway teow.

However, it is still full of wok hei and every strand benefits from both char and a bite that is more tender.

More marvellous than too moist, if you get my meaning.

Wetter than your typical ‘char kway teow’ but still full of ‘wok hei’. — Picture by CK Lim

Yet another reason to keep following the advice and recommendations of my friends; I am convinced they are even bigger gluttons than I am (and that’s high praise indeed!).

Next Gen Kopitiam 新时代茶餐厅

91, Jalan Jejaka 2, 

Maluri, Cheras, 

KL.

Open daily 6.30am-3pm

Phone: 011-2613 6388

For more food fables and café chronicles, visit Life for Beginners.

* This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal.

* Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.

PETALING JAYA, Oct 7 — For many, a trip to Bentong means indulging in all kinds of food the small town produces, including its yong tau foo.

In the Klang Valley, almost all the shops offer Hakka-style yong tau foo, where various beancurd items and vegetables are stuffed with fish paste or occasionally ground pork and salted fish.

Bentong does it differently; its residents are descendants of migrants from Guangxi, who use a mixture of fish paste, ground pork and Chinese chives.

The town is also famous for its tofu puffs with a distinct honeycomb interior, said to be prepared traditionally by cooking soybean milk over a firewood-fueled fire.

Long bean ‘yong tau foo’ (left) is exceptionally good with the studs of long beans stuck on the fish-pork paste. Bell pepper (right) is an unlikely partner for ‘yong tau foo’ but it works. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

When the paste and tofu puffs are combined, they become a powerhouse product marketed as Guangxi Tofu Puffs or even Bentong Tofu Puffs, which are sold frozen in packs.

With the opening of Da Jie Bentong about a month ago, there’s no need to drive up to Bentong for yong tau foo, as this family from Bentong has brought their family recipe to Kota Damansara.

Be warned: you may be tempted to order all 11 varieties of yong tau foo — chilli, eggplant, bitter gourd, tofu puff, lady’s finger, long bean, pork skin, beancurd, bell pepper, soup beancurd and white tofu — each priced at RM2.90.

Some of the ‘yong tau foo’ is served in a pork-chicken broth. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

I almost did because they looked so good but I eventually skipped a few since they weren’t my favourites.

These aren’t skinny yong tau foo on GLP-1 drugs but chunky bites that threaten your waistline.

Stuffed eggplant and bitter gourd passed their test with flying colours.

The eggplant was top-notch, featuring creamy flesh from a dip in hot oil, while the bitter gourd was cooked through without any raw bits.

The eye-opener was their long bean yong tau foo, as the paste wasn’t encased in the vegetable but was studded with chopped long beans!

It’s clever because you get the flavour and texture from the pan-fried long beans, which is a better match compared to those versions where the curled-up long beans feel disjointed when stuffed.

Now, bell pepper isn’t often found in yong tau foo places but perhaps they should use it as the vegetable has a soft, sweet flavour that matches the paste.

Tofu puffs (left) are plump with the filling. Pig skin and the paste (right) are eaten like a sandwich. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Pork skin isn’t new to yong tau foo but this version sandwiches the chunky paste between the gelatinous skin, creating an unbeatable bite you’ll want more of.

And of course, there are the tofu puffs stuffed to the brim with paste, making a big bite which may be a struggle for some.

Those yong tau foo are served in a bowl of broth that has a light sweet flavour derived from pork and chicken bones.

You can pair your selected yong tau foo with rice, noodles or chee cheong fun.

Curry rules here, crafted from the family’s recipe using their homemade spice paste that is a Halloween orange colour that may spook you.

The Signature Curry Noodle is glorious in a striking orange, thick curry broth. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Their Signature Curry Noodle (RM15.90) is special too, featuring pan-fried long beans and creamy eggplant, rather than the half-cooked vegetables usually served with the noodles.

Even their Chee Cheong Fun (RM5) — flatter, silkier noodles with a thicker texture – is a fiery-sweet combination of curry sauce and sweet sauce.

They’re generous with the sauces; the dish is served in a bowl, ensuring every strand of the chee cheong fun is well coated.

Eat like the Bentong natives by combining your ‘chee cheong fun’ with curry and sweet sauce for a spicy-sweet flavour. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Even if you’re struggling to finish the food, remember to order their Signature Pepper Bun (RM10).

Back in Bentong, this was a popular order and after tasting that flaky meat-filled pastry, I also concur that it’s worthy of the fame.

It is inspired by the Taiwanese night market snack hujiaobing usually shaped like a bun but this version is longer.

Signature Pepper Bun (left) is dotted with toasted sesame seeds and filled with meat seasoned with pepper (right) and chopped scallions. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Bite it to get flaky pastry crusted with toasted sesame seeds and a juicy meat filling seasoned with pepper and chopped scallions.

If you’re not keen to drive to Kota Damansara, you can also get their food delivered to your doorstep with a tap, as the restaurant is on GrabFood.

Opened for a month plus, Da Jie Bentong is easily accessible at these shops within the Palm Spring development. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Restoran Da Jie Bentong

Lot B-G06, Palm Spring@Damansara, 

Jalan PJU3/31, 

Kota Damansara, Petaling Jaya.

Open: 11am to 9pm. Closed on Mondays.

Tel:011-13188232

* This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal.

* Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.

MELAKA, Oct 6 — Day-trippers and weekend tourists to Melaka flock to Jonker Street for the historical city’s iconic chicken rice balls and Nyonya laksa.

This is almost a given, though some venture a little farther to Tengkera and Bukit Cina too.

But wander beyond the town centre, and you might be surprised to discover pockets of Malaccan food havens.

From unassuming platters of chicken rice balls in Taman Pertam Jaya to unapologetically rich Nyonya laksa in Taman Sin Hoe, those willing to go outside the default tourist trails are often well rewarded with new spots where locals eat.

Suukee is located in Melaka’s Ayer Keroh industrial park. — Picture by CK Lim

Which might be how we find ourselves in Ayer Keroh, usually the last neighbourhood before one reaches the highway toll to exit the state (or the first when one enters, depending on how you look at it).

Specifically we are in Melaka’s Ayer Keroh industrial park, hardly the most promising of locations for browsing for bites. Or is it?

Factories are full of employees, all hungry during their lunch breaks and perhaps less than willing to travel too far.

Hungry and no appetite for fussy fare. They crave belly-sticking food, not an Instagram opportunity.

This is the mindset we adopted when our plate of chicken rice arrives. We are at Suukee, a local restaurant smack in the middle of the industrial park, and this is their signature kampung chicken rice.

They have a substance-over-style approach; this dish wouldn’t look out of place in a kopitiam.

Indeed, Suukee used to operate in Ayer Keroh Heights not far away; its new location does feel fancier with laminated menus, air-conditioning and a beverage station that wouldn’t look out of place in an upscale café.

But the food is served as is, without much fanfare. This is a good sign, to be honest; it shows confidence in the quality of what they offer and indeed the kampung chicken tastes naturally sweet, with a tender yet springy bite.

Suukee also offers chicken rice balls. — Picture by CK Lim

The oil rice is aromatic, and Suukee also offers this in the form of chicken rice balls. These are hefty, decent-sized orbs so be careful how many you attempt as the grains are compacted; your eyes might be bigger than your belly.

What to drink? Well, the coffee menu stays true to Suukee’s kopitiam style origins so you’d be safe ordering any of their kopi variations.

We tried the recommended kopi C with butter, which was suitably creamy and way more caffeinated than we imagined.

If you’re worried about your sleep later in the evening, you can try some of their different chicken soups with red dates.

'Kopi C' with butter. — Picture by CK Lim

The old cucumber and the lotus root options are very old school, like grandma’s cooking.

Or simply stick with the bowl of clear soup that comes with your chicken rice; light and healing.

Don’t forget the piquant chilli sauce; it completes every spoonful of chicken rice.

There are other poultry delights, from braised chicken feet with mushrooms to crispy fried chicken intestines. But Suukee isn’t just about chicken rice.

This being Melaka, Peranakan dishes are an essential part of the restaurant’s revamped menu.

Nyonya 'laksa' with Hainanese 'kampung' chicken. — Picture by CK Lim

Try the Nyonya mee siam with ayam berempah or the Nyonya laksa with Hainanese steamed kampung chicken.

The latter is particularly soul-satisfying. First we got a punchy hit of the laksa’s curry paste and spices. Then there’s the broth itself, full of santan that creamily coats our lips.

What takes it to the next level is the topping of sliced kampung chicken (yes, it’s clear this is their specialty), the springy meat offering a textural and flavour contrast to the more decadent Nyonya laksa.

We finish our meal with some Cantonese style tong sui: the ebony of black glutinous rice and red bean soup and the ivory of the peanut and sticky rice porridge. Nothing like a sweet ending, no?

Black glutinous rice and red bean 'tong sui'. — Picture by CK Lim

Suukee Restaurant 速记食坊

73, Jalan Eco 2,

Zon Industri Ayer Keroh Baru, Melaka.

Open daily 10am-9pm

Phone: 014-620 6610

FB: SuukeeRestaurant

For more food fables and café chronicles, visit Life for Beginners. 

* This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal.

* Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.

KUALA LUMPUR, Oct 5 — Food in the Klang Valley is often a fun adventure, allowing you to explore cuisine from a certain country or even a different state in Malaysia.

Think of it as a preview; if you like it, perhaps you can plan a holiday there to deep dive into the food and culture.

Like any adventure, one needs to shake things up a little rather than stick to familiar, conventional food choices. 

Malay fare tends to be rather one-dimensional; if it’s not nasi lemak, nasi kerabu and perhaps nasi dagang, other dishes seem to find little space in our stomachs. 

We’re not to blame as there’s an obvious skew for East Coast eats, probably because the ladies who often hold the F&B reins are more enterprising, expanding everywhere.

With their stronger flavours, it’s also no surprise they are everyone’s pick as seen by the long queues. 

You know you have walked into Kedah grounds as the restaurant is decorated with flags from Kedah. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

However, once in a while, it’s good to break away from that comfort zone, like exploring Kedah eats found in Restoran Langgaq, near the KL East area.

Since I was new to the place, I sneakily observed everyone’s orders to gauge the top favourites. 

A family of four was seen sharing plate of Nasi Daging and the Bihun Sup Daging between their two young sons. 

Some ordered the Mee Goreng or Pek Nga Kelapa, which are coconut pancakes, eaten dipped in sambal or gulai termenun — a kembung fish curry made famous in Kuala Kedah where fresh catch is cooked in a spicy curry. 

Their pancakes aren’t the pale-looking lempeng usually found in the area; instead, they are aggressively pan-fried in a smoky pan until the edges brown. 

After frying the snacks, the Cucur Udang is left on the rack to allow excess oil to drip off. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

And the must-try item is their Cucur Udang Biasa, known as Coq Udang in Kedah dialect, served piping hot. 

Limited stomach space meant a leaner meal this round: just two dishes and a snack but each item was satisfying enough to warrant a return visit to explore more items like their packets of nasi kuning, Kedah’s colourful answer to nasi lemak with different gulai, mee rebus, mee goreng and laksa. 

Nasi Daging (RM13) arrives on a stainless steel plate: brown-coloured rice topped with boiled beef slices, served with three small bowls containing beef broth, dalca tetel and ayaq asam kerisek. 

The rice is cooked in beef stock with spices like star anise, cloves, cardamom pods and cinnamon sticks, and layered with fresh coriander leaves on top. 

The meat is quite lean but still pulls apart easily, while the dalca tetel adds a layer of curry flavour too.  

On its own, the rice and beef have a mild beefy flavour but once you eat it with the ayaq asam kerisek, a dip with tamarind, chopped chilies, and onions, it’s an appetising combination that will have you cleaning up every rice grain from the plate. 

Depending on your budget, you can order a more decadent tulang rusuk (a long beef rib) and those who enjoy offal can also add beef tripe and cow lungs.  

Bihun Sup Daging may look small but it’s big on beef flavour with the boiled meat cut into slices and a robust beef broth. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Bihun Sup Daging (RM13) arrives with an impressive blanket of beef slices in a small bowl. 

As you dig underneath it, there’s yellow-tinged vermicelli and piping hot beef broth that calls immediately to be enjoyed before the temperature drops. 

It’s a lighter meal that balances out the more substantial Nasi Daging, giving you much needed space for their famous Cucur Udang (RM13). 

This is prepared from noon onwards at the cooking station in front, allowing you to view the theatrics of making the prawn fritters. 

A scoop of the yellow tinged batter, mixed with matchsticks of cucumber and yam bean is topped with small raw prawns still in their shells. 

Cucur Udang is done differently here, starting with a ladle of batter (left) dotted with shreds of cucumber and yam bean that is topped with fresh prawns, which is then poured into hot oil (right) at the edge of the hot wok. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Rather than frying it in the ladle to create a saucer shaped fritter, they quickly tilt the batter into the hot oil at the edge of the wok, allowing the batter to feather out into a larger, thinner, and crunchier piece. 

As the fritter clings to the side of the wok, they slowly scrape it out once it’s partially fried, allowing the entire piece to hit the hot oil. 

This frying method sees thin crispy crackers clinging to the side of the wok in hot oil. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

They continue frying it on both sides until it becomes golden brown, ensuring the fritter is crispy. 

Any excess oil is shaken away and the fritter is placed on a metal rack for any extra oil to drip out. 

Once cooled, the huge fritter is chopped into smaller, manageable pieces, to be dipped not in chili sauce but in a thick, chunky peanut sauce. 

Move aside chili sauce, peanut sauce makes for a better pairing with the crunchy golden fritter. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

On the side, there are also cubes of cucumber, yam bean and fried beancurd. 

It’s best eaten on the spot otherwise its texture will be compromised. 

Restoran Langgaq

6, Jalan 4/4C, Desa Melawati, 

Kuala Lumpur

Open: 8am to 11pm. Closed on Mondays. 

Tel: 014-9302423

Facebook: @langgaq

Instagram: @langgaq_kl

* This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal.

* Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.

PETALING JAYA, Oct 4 — What is the function of a restaurant? Plainly, it is a business that serves food and beverages to customers.

But beyond the commercial and financial incentives behind any business, restaurants are unique in how widely they vary: from bare-bones operations where the relationship between customer and business is purely transactional, like a fast-food outlet, to high-concept, luxury establishments where dessert comes with a side of discourse, and then the bill.

Restaurants often serve more than one purpose, though.

The oldest, and perhaps most essential, can be gleaned from the word itself, taken from the French restaurer, “to restore”.

Restaurants feed us in a physical sense, yes, but they also nourish us, and those that become pillars of their communities nurture the public at large.

The restaurant’s storefront is decidedly simple. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Asian Rice Pot Restaurant, a South Indian eatery in Kelana Jaya, struck me as exactly such a pillar on a recent visit.

It has stood on the same quiet row of shops beside Wisma FAM since 2006, and it looks every bit its 20 years: cosy and charmingly dated.

I arrived at 10am on a weekday, when most diners were at least twice my age, sipping Bru coffee or masala chai as they waited.

With the body language of a helpless newcomer, I moseyed around the room, scanning trays of curry, dal and varuval, letting my nose guide me as much as my eyes.

The clay pots that give the restaurant its name are filled with chicken, mutton, crab, fish and vegetable curry. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Eventually, a staff member noticed my aimless wandering and correctly deduced that I did not know the drill.

Everyone else was seated, he explained, waiting for the rice and big-ticket items like mutton to come out, which would take about half an hour.

He gestured me to a table and asked me to order a drink first.

Pots and trays kept flying out of the kitchen as the clock ticked towards the half-hour mark.

Then the rest of the restaurant began shuffling over to form a queue at the starting point: large pots of white and brown rice, and massive clay pots of chicken, mutton, crab, fish and vegetable curry.

The non-vegetarian selection spans egg, chicken, mutton and even fish too. — Picture by Ethan Lau

The next station held the non-vegetarian dishes, such as egg masala, fried chicken, prawn sambal and mutton varuval, followed by the equally bountiful vegetarian station.

I sat down with a plate of rice laden with fish curry, prawn sambal, chicken liver curry and keerai (spinach and lentil) curry (RM16.80).

The prawns, firm and meaty, slipped out of their shells with ease, and the sambal packed heat with a surprising aromatic sweetness from a shedload of fried onions.

The livers were creamy and coated in a rich, addictive gravy, though after the third piece the metallic notes began to compound, as expected.

This is where the keerai stepped up: spinach and lentils came together in a mild, mellow curry that took all that robust heat and tempered it.

To that I added a portion of mutton varuval (RM20), which seemed steep at first glance until I realised it was completely boneless.

Mutton is usually the priciest item at a restaurant like this, and I tend to feel slightly swindled when more than half the plate is bone.

A full portion of boneless mutton ‘varuval’. — Picture by Ethan Lau

This was the opposite. Each bite of bouncy mutton was doubly satisfying, and the thick masala clinging to each cube was boldly spiced, nutty and evocative of caramelised toast.

Nobody else in the room needed to be told when the rice was ready. Every one of them was recognised by the staff, and I stood out not because I was a young Chinese guy, but because I had clearly never been there before.

It didn’t matter; I was welcomed all the same.

Avilin Rose opened the restaurant about 20 years ago, her son told me over text afterwards.

They call it a family business because they all grew up in it, and because of the relationships they have built with their customers, many of whom are families themselves.

“When Mum opened this place, this row was much quieter,” he said. “Much has changed since.”

Restaurer, then.

Asian Rice Pot has been around long enough to be more than just somewhere to eat; it is a dining room where family is celebrated, and lives are lived.

The diners twice my age certainly aren’t there for the novelty. They are there because, 20 years on, this is still where they come to be fed.

Asian Rice Pot Restaurant

11, Jalan SS 5A/11,

SS 3, Petaling Jaya,

Selangor.

Open daily, 7.30am – 9pm

Tel: 03-7874 6911

Facebook: Asian Rice Pot

Instagram: @asianricepot

* 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 curry-and-rice stories.

SEMENYIH, Oct 3 — Food adventures don’t always begin as food adventures.

We don’t always head out with a clear gastronomic destination in mind, though that is common enough. Especially for Malaysians, ahem.

(I’m sure we have all had the experience of driving across state lines at the oddest hours to simply reach a popular stall just as it opens, yes?)

But this time, it wasn’t for pan mee, pani puri or pisang goreng (though I still prefer to call it goreng pisang; it works if you read it as "fritter of banana”); we were out hunting for plants in Semenyih where several garden and landscape nurseries are located.

The shop caters mainly to local customers from the surrounding neighbourhood. — Picture by CK Lim

What we ended up finding were very local, Hakka style pork noodle dishes where we least expected to find them (but more on that later).

To be exact, less of actual hunting and more of arguing over whether to get more flowering plants such as hibiscus and rain lilies or greener, leafy species such as an Alocasia or a glossy Philodendron.

All that spirited discussion (to put it mildly) would make anyone hungry; indeed, who knew debating passionately could be such an intense calorie burning activity?

We certainly were famished. Time for munchies.

Making drinks. — Picture by CK Lim

It’s early enough that most places were still offering breakfast but rather than drive around looking for an eatery that’s not too crowded, we decided to just walk around and see what turns up.

Which is how we found ourselves at Backstreet Time, literally a back lane kopitiam at the rear of a terrace house. It’s not a place you’d just happen to walk past unless you happen to be exploring the area (that’s us; it was just a few minutes’ stroll from a nursery).

'Kopi' and butter kaya toast. — Picture by CK Lim

A father and daughter team manned the cooking and coffee stations, respectively. Looking around, it’s clear that the shop caters mainly to local customers from the surrounding neighbourhood.

As the daughter busied herself making drinks and toasting bread — we started with the requisite kopi and butter kaya toast — her father continued cooking every plate of noodles to order.

A simple, unhurried rhythm, with friendly smiles. That small town, close neighbourhood ambience. Easy to fall in love with, hard to replicate in the big city. Certainly not in a crowded albeit air-conditioned mall.

Cooking every plate of noodles to order. — Picture by CK Lim

The first plate to arrive was the nam yu fried pork noodles. The aroma of the nam yu or fermented red bean curd marinade was not too strong, not too subtle. Just nice.

The slices of pork looked lean at first but there was the gorgeous layers of juicy fat too, infused with the bold, savoury flavour of the fermented red bean curd.

Whilst waiting for the second plate of noodles, we shared a bowl of their handmade fish balls. This wasn’t on the menu but the daughter suggested it when taking our orders.

'Nam yu' fried pork noodles.— Picture by CK Lim

Coarsely shaped, fresh tasting, with enough of a bounce to make every bite a joy. A good recommendation.

Finally the Hakka zhar yoke noodles arrived. This is an unctuous dish of braised pork chunks with wood ear mushrooms, full of five-spice powder fragrance. Good on rice, maybe even better with noodles given it’s breakfast time.

(Breakfast time always feels like a time for noodles, somehow. Mornings are made for noodles.)

Handmade fish balls. — Picture by CK Lim

We left Backstreet Time with full bellies, energised for further plant hunting and debating. One adventure leads to another, and so on.

Food adventures don’t always begin as food adventures. And these might be the best sort of adventures of them all, don’t you agree?

Hakka 'zhar yoke' (braised pork) noodles with wood ear mushrooms. — Picture by CK Lim

Backstreet Time 后街的光阴

No.93 (back lane), 

Pekan Semenyih, Semenyih.

Open daily (except Thu closed) 6:30am–2:30pm

Phone: 012-727 6065

For more food fables and café chronicles, visit Life for Beginners.

* This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal.

* Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.

KUALA LUMPUR, Oct 2 — Nasi lemak is ubiquitous in Malaysia: there’s the Malay classic or a Chinese version where the rice has less santan or even a Melaka Chetti version where nasi lemak kukus with an assortment of dishes laid on a banana leaf is part of their annual ancestor worship ritual known as Parchu Bhogi.

Like all dishes, practicality rules the kitchen; ingredients used depend on what is abundant locally rather than seeking a special item from far away.

That’s why Pangkor Island nasi lemak uses fish, prawns and sotong, all wrapped in a triangular banana leaf packet to infuse the rice with its distinct sambal.

Recreating the island’s nasi lemak in the Klang Valley is a different story, as some of the ingredients must be brought in.

We’ve tasted Pangkor Island nasi lemak in the Klang Valley before; nine years ago, a shop offered it, but it sadly didn’t survive.

Another one, a home-based business that started in Cheras during the Covid-19 lockdown, has grown into a proper cafe located at EkoCheras Mall.

Should you prefer the conventional way to eat ‘nasi lemak’ with ‘ikan bilis’ and peanuts, ask for it plated and topped with ‘petai’, baby prawns, clams and a ‘sambal’ fried egg. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

The latest to open is in Taman Sri Segambut, set up by a home-based caterer who once ran a home goods store in Taman Usahawan, Kepong.

By day, they serve nasi lemak, fried noodles and various dishes; at night, another family member takes over to grill fish and seafood.

It’s a family business where every member pitches in to help the lady boss who cooks the dishes using her own recipes.

A small selection of the nasi lemak packed in familiar triangular parcels greets you at the counter.

If nothing appeals to you, look at the menu and order your preferred flavour combination, whether it’s fried fish, sotong, small prawns, chicken, petai, ikan bilis, or a hard-boiled egg.

Baby prawns and ‘petai’ (left) are the best combinations for your ‘nasi lemak’ packet. You know you have walked into the right place as they sell the famous Sitiawan Kampung Koh chilli sauce (right). — Pictures by Lee Khang Yi

Prices range from RM2.20 for ikan bilis to RM5 for petai sotong.

I had selected the petai sotong combination and as I unwrapped the parcel, a glorious pyramid of rice covered with reddish orange sambal with green petai peeked out, mingling with curry leaves as the baby sotong hid inside the rice.

Not all combinations worked well; for instance, their siham used frozen shelled white clams that felt rubbery, and the fried fish was a bit hard.

The petai and baby prawns combination worked best for me with its textures and sweet flavour from the shelled crustacean.

Baby prawns and ‘petai’ (left) are the best combinations for your ‘nasi lemak’ packet. You know you have walked into the right place as they sell the famous Sitiawan Kampung Koh chilli sauce (right). — Pictures by Lee Khang Yi

For those who prefer eating their nasi lemak with fried ikan bilis, peanuts, cucumbers and sambal on a plate, that option is also available.

There are two types of sambal: one that is easier to pour over the rice, which has an orange-reddish hue fragrant with lemongrass and is used for the nasi lemak packets, and a darker red sambal with sliced onions used for the fried noodles and nasi lemak served on a plate.

A small selection of side dishes is also cooked daily, allowing you to add on to the nasi lemak or fried noodles.

Available side dishes include petai, baby prawns, clams, fried egg sambal and fried chicken with some items rotating, depending on availability.

Various economy fried noodles can be selected and combined with fried egg, sausages, luncheon meat for your breakfast or lunch. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Befitting its island status where access to the freshest catch is easy and relatively inexpensive compared to other proteins, fish dishes dominate the counter.

Zoom in on their best selling chilli fish (RM12), which is essentially cencaru sumbat.

A simple fried fish is elevated by a stuffing of sambal inside its cavity, which needs to be shallow fried until almost burnt black to bring out its flavour.

Economy fried ‘beehoon’ combined with stingray fish curry (left). Make sure you get a piping hot bowl of ‘tong sui’ (right) with red beans and black glutinous rice laced with ‘santan’. — Pictures by Lee Khang Yi

It’s their homemade sambal that makes this dish exceptional; they use a blended chilli, herbs and spice paste slowly cooked in oil until it becomes fragrant.

Just peel the hard outer skin to find firm flesh and relish it with the punchy sambal. Be warned, you may not stop at just one fish and end up ordering more.

Previously, they sold this fish frozen in batch orders, allowing customers the convenience of frying it at home.

There’s also a meaty stingray curry with various vegetables and another fried fish cooked in a thick santan-rich gravy, which you can order with their fried economy style noodles.

Yam cake is made in-house with chunks of taro, fried shallots, dried prawns, chopped spring onions and chillies. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

On the counter, there are a whopping six different choices for the economy style noodles, each with a different texture.

The fried beehoon I picked was soft and lightly flavoured with soy sauce, given a touch of spiciness with their sambal.

Don’t miss out on the handmade yam cake (RM12), which features chunks of taro inside the steamed cake topped with fried shallots and dried prawns, and is best eaten with their homemade chilli sauce.

On weekends, they offer a dry chicken curry noodles and chicken drumstick cordyceps soup served with noodles.

Remember to also add a bowl of tong sui (RM2.50) to your meal; it’s a combination of red beans and black glutinous rice that arrives piping hot and laced with a cloud-white drizzle of santan for a touch of creaminess.

Look for this coffee shop well hidden inside this housing estate right opposite Legend Heights condominium. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Alee Kopitiam

No. 3-9, Jalan Udang Siar,

Taman Sri Segambut, Kuala Lumpur.

Open: 6am to 3pm, 4pm to 11pm. Closed on Mondays.

Tel:017-3947703

Facebook: @Alee88Enterprise1688

*This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal.

*Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.

BENGALURU, Oct 1 — Bengaluru, the capital of the southern Indian state of Karnataka and the country’s third-most populous city, is perhaps best known as India’s “Silicon Valley”.

It is home to the headquarters of Infosys and Wipro, two of India’s “Big Six” IT companies, and to multinational giants like Amazon, Microsoft and Google, which unveiled its “Ananta” campus in 2025, a sprawling 12-storey structure of roughly 1.6 million square feet, with seating for more than 5,000 employees.

I visited the city last month. After landing at Kempegowda International Airport, which runs on 100 per cent renewable energy, and clearing security at Terminal 2, through its hanging gardens and indoor waterfalls, I got my first taste of Bengaluru’s infamous — and noisy — traffic.

Lanes appeared to be a mere suggestion; honking is a habit, and our driver did his best to live up to the famous Ayrton Senna quote — “If you no longer go for a gap that exists, you are no longer a racing driver.” — weaving through a never-ending sea of motorcycles and auto-rickshaws.

It gave me plenty of time to look at the buildings in an increasingly dizzy state.

There wasn’t much at first: a few local businesses selling concrete, then a Nike factory outlet, then a succession of car dealerships.

And then, all at once: Amazon, Infosys and Philips, only 20 minutes from the airport.

Traffic slowed to a crawl as we left the outskirts and entered the city centre.

There are no expansive technology campuses here; those are kept to designated districts and special economic zones spread across the city and away from the centre.

The basement of K.R. Market in the old city is home to one of Asia’s largest flower markets (left). Andhra ‘bhojanam’, or banana leaf meals, are a staple in Bengaluru, with chains like Nagarjuna becoming popular since arriving in 1984 (right). — Pictures by Ethan Lau

The oldest of these, the aptly named Electronic City, was established in 1978 across 800 acres of land and is about 19 kilometres from the city centre.

Instead, the centre is a mix of high-rises and the old city, where colonial architecture stands side by side with modern towers of steel.

But the true heart of Bengaluru predates the British by a few hundred years.

The city was established in 1537 by Kempe Gowda I, a governor under the Vijayanagara Empire who defeated a local ruler and built a fort here.

That fort, built from mud, would become the core of the modern city.

Today, the fort and the walled market area branching from it, known as Bengaluru Pete (“pete” is Kannada for “market centre”), are a tangle of crowded streets and historic landmarks.

It is also home to Krishnarajendra Market, the city’s largest wholesale market, and one of the biggest flower markets in Asia.

We visited Krishnarajendra Market, also known as K. R. Market, the next day, crammed together with what felt like half of Bengaluru’s estimated 12 million residents.

The original building dates to 1928, with a three-storey structure added in the 1990s to expand capacity and improve overall conditions.

Still, traders spill out beyond the open-air section and onto the road, selling fresh vegetables and fruit.

Pomegranates glittered like rubies under the hot Indian sun, while mosambi, limes the size of oranges and a staple ingredient in sweet lime juice, stacked up toward the sky.

Inside the main building, the basement floor is a kaleidoscope of gold, red, orange and white, as coils of flower garlands dot the scene.

The market was buzzing even when we visited after 1pm, but it is busiest around 6am every morning, with wholesalers and vendors locked in hurried, intense haggling over flowers by the kilo and garlands by the metre.

The sights, smells and constant jostling for space amid throngs of people are enough to work up an appetite in anyone, let alone my hungry self.

I hadn’t eaten all day in preparation for the meals to come.

Chef Johnson Ebenezer was previously the opening chef at Nadodi before returning to India and opening Farmlore (left). Kaushik Raju, the co-founder of Farmlore, whose grandfather’s farm is where the restaurant is located (right). — Pictures courtesy of Farmlore.

Swati Rao, who runs the restaurant Farmlore with her husband on a farm on the outskirts of Bengaluru, took me and two others for a quintessential Bengaluru meal — one that originates from Andhra Pradesh, the state bordering Karnataka to the east.

“I know, it’s funny, but Andhra restaurants are very popular all over Bangalore for some reason,” she said, laughing.

“This one we’re going to is a big chain, but I’m taking you guys to the original location, which has been here since 1984.”

It was a short drive from the old city to the newer side of Bengaluru’s central business district, where we hopped out of the car and into another crowd: the lunch rush was in full swing at 2pm on both floors of Nagarjuna Restaurant.

Along with everyone else, we were there to sample Andhra bhojanam, a traditional banana leaf meal.

Banana or plantain leaf meals are found throughout southern India, and bhojanam is the Telugu word for “meal”; the Telugu people are native to the state of Andhra Pradesh.

Rice laced with ghee and topped with podi (gunpowder masala) arrived in a flurry on a banana leaf, alongside sambar, a variety of pappu koora (lentil and vegetable stews), perugu (fresh curd) and pachadi (chutney), and bookended by cups of charu (the Telugu version of rasam, a sour and spicy soup) and payasam (a sweet pudding).

It felt both familiar and new to me as a Malaysian: big on lentils and generous with spice, though notably lacking the coconut and seafood that our more Chettinad-influenced banana leaf meals include.

The most popular dish to order at Nagarjuna, Rao told us, is the “chilly chicken”, or pacha karam kodi.

Chicken is stir-fried with a spicy paste of fresh green chillies and other aromatic spices.

She did a quick check of our spice tolerance, warning that it wasn’t for the faint of heart.

I cautiously agreed to try, admitting to a “medium level” of spice tolerance, but really, I needn’t have worried. It is fiery and punchy, but anyone who can handle ayam berlado hijau will love this.

The heat is milder, but the rest of the aromatics make for an addictive, savoury sauce, which I smothered over my rice once the chicken was gone, then sucked my fingers clean.

Later that night, we embarked on an hour-long drive out of the city to Farmlore for dinner.

The restaurant is the brainchild of Rao’s husband, Kaushik Raju, and chef-patron Johnson Ebenezer.

Ebenezer’s career includes a two-year stint as opening chef at Nadodi, arguably Kuala Lumpur’s first modern Indian “fine dining” restaurant.

After returning to India, he met Raju and, after a series of pop-ups around Bengaluru, they decided to open Farmlore on Raju’s family farm.

The farm began as a mango orchard, with over five varieties of mango grown on the property. — Photo courtesy of Farmlore.

“It was my grandfather’s farm, and we grew mangoes and coconuts mostly,” Raju told us as he took us on a tour.

We visited the hydroponic system he added to ensure the restaurant has fresh produce year-round, tasting chilli flowers, stevia and tomatoes off the vine.

He then took us to see the native Hallikar calves, whose dung, along with pruned mango wood, provides the fuel for the open-flame cooking in the restaurant.

In the centre of the 33-acre property is a sleek, modern 18-seater space powered by solar panels.

The path leading to it is lined with mango trees on one side and coconut trees on the other.

Inside, Ebenezer serves a 10-course tasting menu (6,825 INR, RM290) that changes monthly, and a 5-course lunch menu (4,200 INR, RM180).

When I asked Ebenezer about the decision to offer lunch service so far from the city centre, he said the restaurant gets “pretty busy” on weekdays.

The closest technology park, Manyata Embassy Business Park, is about 12 kilometres away.

“We get a lot of people from the tech companies who will eat here and then take a meeting,” he said. “So many of them ask for the Wi-Fi password!”

The cooking at Farmlore is often described as “cuisine-agnostic”, a label I understand but find ludicrous.

But it does prime the mind to think beyond the constraints of “Indian cuisine”, as wide-ranging and regionally diverse as it is.

Blue crab, pomelo and kingfish roe with a cucumber salad (left). Like ‘chawanmushi’ on steroids, salt fish and raw mango custard with paddy snails (right). — Pictures by Ethan Lau

I tucked into a cold blue crab salad with pomelo and kingfish roe from the Keralan coast, followed by a salt fish and raw mango custard, like chawanmushi on steroids, filled with plump paddy snails and topped with a curry leaf and coriander foam.

A playful palate cleanser of sorts saw Ebenezer nod to his time in Malaysia. Pandan, which grows in neighbouring states like Kerala and Tamil Nadu, is made into a milk and poured over a sorbet of local pineapple.

A “probiotic” ice is shaved on top. He asked me to guess; I replied that it was unmistakably Yakult, which he confirmed with a toothy grin.

A pork course leaned much deeper into regional cuisine than it appeared to.

Presented as a sando of sorts, with a mustard and purple cabbage dip, the slow-roasted pork was cooked in the style of a pandi curry, a traditional dish of the Coorgs, or Kodava people, native to a mountainous region of Karnataka.

The pork ‘pandi’ curry ‘sando’ with mustard and purple cabbage (left). Dessert was a ‘jamun’ sorbet with a chilli gel “noodle” and salt. (right) — Pictures by Ethan Lau

The curry is characterised by its distinctly sour flavour, which Ebenezer sought to incorporate by using a traditional vinegar called kachampuli, made from the Garcinia fruit kodampuli.

It is perhaps the dish that best fits the “cuisine-agnostic” tag, a label neither Ebenezer nor Farmlore has claimed for itself, but one others have seen fit to apply to the cooking.

In some ways, it is a distillation of modern-day Bengaluru: deeply rooted in history, yet eager to adopt a forward and outward-looking approach.

For dessert: seasonal jamun, typically eaten with chilli and salt, is made into a sorbet, placed atop a chilli gel “noodle” and flaked with salt.

On the drive back, I fell asleep in the car. The incessant honking that had jarred me at first had faded into ambient noise, becoming the soundscape of Bengaluru.

Nagarjuna Restaurant — Residency Road

44/1, Residency Road, 

Shanthala Nagar, 

Ashok Nagar, Bengaluru, 

Karnataka, India.

Open daily, 12-3.45 pm, 7pm-10.45pm

Tel: +91 80 2555 9848

https://www.nagarjunarestaurants.com/

Farmlore

Survey No. 67, Mohan, Raju Layout, 

Bagalur, Sathnur Village, 

Bengaluru, 

Karnataka, India.

Open Wednesday to Sunday, 12.30pm--2pm, 6.30pm--10pm

Tel: +91 80502 48469

https://www.farmlore.in/

* Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.

* Follow Ethan Lau on Instagram @eatenlau for more tales of chilly chicken and restaurants around the world.

PETALING JAYA, Sept 30 — Fried chicken is my kryptonite, especially chicken with a golden crust and juicy meat. 

My tastebuds don’t discriminate — whether it’s high-end or low-key, regular fried, double fried or dressed up in all kinds of fancy sauces, it’s all good. 

It sounds like a cliché, but as long as it’s a fabulous fried chicken, I’ll be there. 

The latest crunchy conquest is Golden Boy Fried Chicken, thanks to a friend whose recommendations I trust.

Like all food fables, it started small: just a stall inside the petite Medan Selera MBPJ Damansara Kim. 

As its fame spread, the business grew, shifting a few steps to an air-conditioned space on the first floor across from their old place.

Judging from the decor, most of it seems inherited from the previous occupant but the main act is the fried chicken, not the decor. 

Like a diva, this fried chicken dominates the stage with its crispy skin — which isn’t weighed down by batter — moist meat, and an almost greaseless touch.

Fried chicken (left) has a crispy crust, moist meat with little oil residue that pairs well with a honey mustard sauce. Crispy Chicken Wrap (right) makes your meal-to-go better because it isn’t too messy. — Pictures by Lee Khang Yi

Flavour comes from its specially devised premium sauces, giving you a taste experience that isn’t the same generic flavour from a bottled product. 

Select from a white sauce, nacho cheese sauce, American gold sauce, honey mustard sauce, Thai sweet sauce and BBQ sauce. 

You can order generous-sized fried chicken pieces or boneless golden tenders. 

Prices start from RM13 for two pieces and go up to RM65 for 10 pieces plus one extra. 

Boneless golden tenders can be ordered in quantities from three pieces (RM12) up to 10 pieces (RM32 with two premium sauces). 

It doesn’t stop at fabulous fried chicken but creative pairings bring their fried chicken to another level.

Ayam Gepuk Golden Boy style wins with that juicy fried chicken chop, pounded chili sauce drizzled with a roasted cashew sauce, fried cabbage, fried beancurd and ‘tempeh’. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Crispy Chicken Burger (RM12) is a prime example: it features fluffy bread — the type that doesn’t stick to your teeth or collapse — lightly spread with garlic butter, topped with a special sauce, and a crispy, juicy chicken chop crowned with a slice of cheese. 

You’ll end up plotting how to get more bites of the burger, even when you’re supposedly meant to share it. Getting your own is the best solution to avoid a huge tiff with your partner.

Using similar ingredients, the Crispy Chicken Wrap (RM11) is good for a lighter food-on-the-go with its pan-fried edges that won’t create a mess.

With all the noise surrounding ayam gepuk, it was natural to add that dish to the menu, since they already have very good fried chicken.

Decor like the painted mural decorating the stairwell (left) and the tables plus chairs (right) seem to be inherited from the previous occupant. — Pictures by Lee Khang Yi

After a round of experiments, their Ayam Gepuk version 2.0 is the result and it hits hard. 

Tweaks include using a fried chicken chop instead of a piece of fried chicken, making it easier to eat with rice and everything else on the plate. 

The tremendous change is the cashew sauce: it’s thicker and roasted in the oven for more depth. 

Sambal gets its heat level dialled back, which may please fans, especially if you’re looking for a better chance to taste other elements on the plate — like the fried cabbage, tempeh or beancurd — rather than burning your tongue (and stomach) with the numbing spiciness.

Look for the banners for Golden Boy Fried Chicken, which is right above Farm to Plate restaurant in Damansara Kim. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Golden Boy Fried Chicken

6A, Jalan SS20/10, 

Damansara Kim, Petaling Jaya.

Open daily: 11.30am to 10pm

Tel: 019-6410288

Instagram: @goldenboyfriedchicken

* This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal.

* Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.

KUALA LUMPUR, Sept 29 — Most bakers would probably keep a competition recipe under wraps when a place at the world stage is at stake. Ang Bo Ling is doing the opposite.

After nearly 100 batches of Classico panettone developed for the Panettone World Cup final in Milan this November, the baker-owner of Twenty-Two Bakery is inviting the public to taste his latest version... before the judges do.

Twenty-Two Bakery will hold a series of Panettone Tasting Sessions this October, giving customers the opportunity to try Ang’s Classico panettone before he takes it to Milan to compete against bakers from Italy, France, Switzerland and beyond.

It is a chance to see what almost a year of tweaking, testing and learning has produced since Ang won the Traditional Category at last year’s inaugural Asia Selection in Singapore.

(For an idea of how painstaking his preparation has been, the recipe that won Ang the Asia Selection took about 10 batches to develop; for Milan, he has made almost 10 times that.)

For Ang, the hundreds of hours spent refining the recipe have been about understanding what happens when even one ingredient or process is changed.

“With panettone, there are so many variables: flour, fermentation, hydration, butter, fruit, temperature and timing,” he says.

“So I approached this one parameter at a time, trying to understand the effect of each change before moving on.”

Ang won the Traditional Category at last year’s inaugural Asia Selection in Singapore. — Pictures courtesy of Twenty-Two Bakery

The result is a recipe developed around three objectives: adapting to the flour required for the Milan competition, extending the panettone’s shelf life and improving how its flavours come through when eaten.

There has been one major departure from the approach that helped Ang win in Singapore. For the final, competition sponsors require contestants to use designated brands for certain ingredients, including flour, butter, candied fruit and even the panettone cases.

That means Ang is now working with panettone flour from Italian mill Dallagiovanna, a world away from the ordinary bread flour he used for his winning Classico in Singapore.

“It has very different characteristics from the flour I was used to working with, and it took quite a lot of testing to understand how it behaves,” he says.

Ang’s willingness to work methodically has been a defining feature of his approach to baking. 

To prepare for Milan, Ang developed nearly 100 batches of ‘Classico panettone’. — Pictures courtesy of Twenty-Two Bakery

His background in specialty coffee has also shaped how he thinks about flavour, taste and texture.

That philosophy carried over when he and his wife, Yee Teng, opened Twenty-Two Bakery in 2018. The bakery subsequently developed into a fully sourdough-based operation.

Panettone, however, presents a different challenge.

The Italian festive bread is not deeply rooted in Malaysian food culture, and Ang believes that unfamiliarity makes the tasting experience particularly important.

“Panettone isn’t really part of our food culture in Malaysia, so for many people, their first experience with it is an imported or commercially produced panettone,” he says.

Rather than simply presenting his Milan campaign as an individual achievement, Ang wants customers to understand what goes into making the bread and to have a chance to taste the result before the international judges do.

“I also wanted more people to be part of this journey. This is the first time a Malaysian baker from our bakery is taking panettone onto the world stage, and I felt it shouldn’t be a journey that only I experience.”

His Malaysian perspective is also something he sees as an asset rather than a handicap.

“Growing up in Malaysia has definitely shaped how I taste and what I look for in food. I tend to enjoy flavours that have a clear and immediate presence. Something you can recognise from the first bite.”

There is even a practical advantage to making panettone here. Malaysia’s relatively stable warm temperatures provide Ang with a consistent environment for R&D (research and development) and fermentation, an important consideration when working with natural sourdough.

For the final, contestants are required to use designated brands for certain ingredients, including flour, butter and candied fruit. — Picture courtesy of Twenty-Two Bakery

Yet for all the technical demands of the competition, Ang reduces his ambition to something considerably simpler.

“And perhaps because I am learning this tradition from the outside, my goal is quite simple: the panettone has to taste good.”

That, ultimately, is what he wants visitors to discover at the tasting sessions.

“I’ll be there to guide everyone through the tasting and explain what we are looking at — the aroma, crumb, texture, flavour and how everything comes together.

“For me, the purpose of the tasting is not to teach people how to judge panettone. It is to let them experience what a panettone made at this level can actually be like.”

The Panettone Tasting Session will be held at Twenty-Two Bakery in Bandar Sri Damansara on October 10 at 11am, October 16 at 3pm and October 24 at 11am. Each session lasts one hour and costs RM25, with limited seats available.

The tasting includes two slices of the competition panettone, along with an introduction to the work behind it and an opportunity for participants to share their thoughts before Ang heads to Milan.

For a baker who has spent hundreds of hours baking and trying to understand every variable in his recipe, there is perhaps one final test that cannot be done alone: seeing what people actually think when they take that first bite.

Malaysia’s relatively stable warm temperatures provide Ang with a consistent environment for ‘panettone’ R&D. — Picture courtesy of Twenty-Two Bakery

Panettone Tasting Session

Register at https://twentytwobakery.com.my/panettone-tasting/

Dates & Time: 10th October 11am, 16th October 3pm, 24th October 11am

Duration: 1 hour (Limited seats per session)

Location: Twenty-Two Bakery (4-G, Jalan Ara SD 7/3B, Bandar Sri Damansara, KL)

Fee: RM25

Web: https://twentytwobakery.com.my/

IG: https://www.instagram.com/twenty2bakery_/

For more food fables and café chronicles, visit Life for Beginners.

KUALA LUMPUR, Sept 28 — Blink and you probably would have driven past Restoran Hup Kee, as the restaurant sits slightly away from the road framed under a huge tree.

There’s no flashy signboard. Just a banner proclaiming its presence.

Tables and chairs in striking fire engine red line the front. Walk ahead and push the sliding glass doors to find a small dining area plastered with festive Chinese New Year posters.

The place has aged but remains clean and welcoming.

Now the third generation runs the restaurant, carrying on their grandparents’ legacy with signature dishes like the Sweet and Sour Pork (RM13).

The simple everyman dish looks very different here: instead of flat, diamond-shaped battered meat pieces, this place serves them in round shapes, making them resemble batter-covered meatballs.

The friendly proprietress told me the dish evolved from being made with pork belly to lean pork as diners made healthier choices.

​​​​​​​Fried Prawn and Taro may not look like much, but its golden, crunchy batter coupled with bouncy prawns and thin taro sticks is hugely satisfying like fast food. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

​​​​​​​

With its round shape, it resembles lychee pork or lizhi rou, a Fuzhou dish served with a sauce and water chestnuts.

Famed Taiwanese television chef Fu Pei Mei featured the dish in her cookbook from the 1950s and 1960s, where the pork loin is cut into thick slices, scored and marinated with soy sauce and red colouring.

She prefers to roll it into a cylinder shape before deep frying the pork and combining it with a sauce that uses sugar and vinegar thickened with cornstarch. There’s no tomato ketchup like her recipe for sweet and sour pork.

The recipe has evolved; now many marinate the meat with red glutinous rice for the colour and pair it with the same sweetish, tangy sauce used in sweet and sour pork.

This version served at Hup Kee feels like a blend of both styles: it has the circular shape of lychee pork but is married to the same sauce used in classic sweet and sour pork.

​​​​​​​Every meal should have fish and for a change from steamed fish, this place does an excellent Deep Fried Ma Yau Fish with golden edges paired with a soy sauce that is almost like syrup. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Typically, ketchup and vinegar weren’t used in China; haw flakes provided that refreshing acidity in the sauce. As far as I know, only one other restaurant in Kuala Lumpur upholds that tradition with haw flakes.

Hup Kee’s sauce isn’t as sharp or sweet compared to other places and its viscosity is thinner because the sauce needs to cling to the pork; otherwise, it will soften the crispy pork.

It is that lack of acidity and cloying sweetness along with the stir fried capsicum, onions and pineapple which makes it one of my favourite renditions of this classic dish.

I probably missed some other old-school items, as I only managed two dishes: Sweet and Sour Pork and Fried Prawns and Taro (RM24).

This version of Mui Choy Kaw Yoke will require multiple servings of rice as the pork belly and preserved mustard greens isn’t too salty and the fat is cooked to a luscious melt in the mouth texture. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

The fried prawns are covered with a golden batter coating that is shatteringly crispy, contrasting with the chewy bouncy prawn meat and the fluffy sticks of taro.

It would have been better with more taro but again with rising costs, taro is now a premium item.

On its own, it lacks much flavour so dip it in the bottled chilli sauce served on the side.

I prefer eating it plain to taste the mild sweetness from the prawn found under its crunchy layer.

Fish is of course a must for any meal and this place offers steamed fish, a much lauded assam fish served cut into pieces instead of whole, and one of my favourites, Deep Fried Ma Yau Fish (RM68).

​​​​​​​Refreshing, crunchy Stir Fried Paku Pakis is topped with tiny deep fried baby prawns. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

When deep-fried, the elongated threadfin fish offers a glorious contrast of crunch and tenderness, making you want to relish every fin and the head till everything is clean.

Hup Kee’s version is even more addictive as it pairs the fish with a syrup-like soy sauce and fine crispy shreds of ginger.

As I am rather salt-averse, I anointed the fish sparingly to just lightly season it rather than letting it soak up the sauce.

It takes some time but there’s a sense of satisfaction when every bone is clean of the glorious flesh.

​​​​​​​This bowl of spinach in a broth, topped with the frilly strands of a beaten egg, tastes just like home. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Mui Choy Kaw Yoke (RM30) comes in a super dark mahogany brown hue that scared me into thinking it must be very salty but it wasn’t.

Distinct layers of creamy fat and lean pork melt in the mouth along with the preserved mustard greens (mui choy), which isn’t salty, ensuring every bit of the sauce was wiped clean.

You can taste that the pork belly was properly pan-fried until it formed a crust before being steamed with the mui choy and sauce until it softened.

Most diners order greens as if it’s a chore but I like how each restaurant goes beyond just stir-fried vegetables with garlic.

Refresh the palate with Stir Fried Paku Pakis (RM13), brightened up with thin slices of red capsicum, tomatoes and onions to make it look appetising with its red-green colour contrast.

Every day, regulars from the neighbourhood come here to fill their stomachs with the good food. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

The surprise addition was tiny dried shrimps that gave a short burst of briny flavour when caught amidst the greens.

Siong Tong Spinach (RM18) is on every Chinese restaurant’s menu but this place puts its own spin on the dish.

Under a mound of spinach swimming in broth dotted with red goji berries, it is partially blanketed with a layer of wispy beaten fried egg peppered with cubes of salted egg white, century eggs and strips of Spam!

It’s the home-style broth that entices you to happily finish your greens without any nagging from the parents.

Last but not least, their homemade jelly for dessert is the perfect end to the heart warming meal here with its wobbly tanginess that leaves a sweet aftertaste in my mouth and a vow to return for more old school dishes.

Who needs sorbet to cleanse your palate when you get a complimentary plate of wobbly jelly (left). Hidden slightly away from the main road, you can find the restaurant by its green banner (right). — Pictures by Lee Khang Yi

Restoran Hup Kee

4A, Jalan Sultan Azlan Shah,

Kuala Lumpur.

Open daily: 11:30am to 3pm, 5pm to 10pm

Tel: 012-3062628

*This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal.

**Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.

KUALA LUMPUR, Sep 27 — In the never-ending, self-destructive pursuit of the newest, hottest, most viral food, we’ve forgotten the capacity of a run-of-the-mill, everyday meal to excite and satisfy — and, more than that, to jolt us awake from the AI-generated negative feedback loop we call our daily routine. 

Or maybe that’s just me.

Every neighbourhood should have a place like that: a restaurant or a stall that keeps you well fed, even tantalises the senses, without drawing too much attention to itself. 

Everyone should be able to grab breakfast there before heading out to face the horrors of the day, or come for a restorative lunch and leave refreshed and revitalised.

Bangsar’s Lucky Garden has had its share of places like these, especially in the Pusat Penjaja that the time-honoured Anuar Fish Head Curry calls home. 

Madam Tim’s stall is located at Gerai 2, with a pretty hard-to-miss neon sign. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Madam Tim Chicken Rice is one of the centre’s newer vendors, only a few months in, serving the tried and tested classic working man’s food: chicken rice.

Madam Tim’s stall is on the other end of the hawker centre, nondescript and flanked by two drink stalls. 

All three sport signs and posters indistinguishable from one another: the same unnatural, uncanny AI-generated food and drink imagery, smooth and devoid of anything remotely resembling life. 

It’s become especially prevalent among food businesses recently, but there’s no value in moralising at independent operators for using it. 

As long as the cost of human-generated visuals remains rightfully higher than slop, the catch-22 will persist. 

Nobody wins — not the businesses, not us diners. Only a few ghoulish billionaires. Big chains using AI, though, can go do one.

The “madam” herself is the sole operator of the stall, which offers a choice of “normal” or “free-range” chicken, but only poached, with either rice or hor fun. 

You could opt for the chicken thigh rice set and leave only RM9 poorer, or you could be like me and get the entire lower quarter for RM18. 

The poached chicken has reasonably smooth skin, the flesh is succulent enough, and the bean sprouts below it are decently crunchy. 

Nothing groundbreaking, but all still very satisfying. 

A little of this stuff goes a long way, but just try stopping at only having a little. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Then she brings a jar each of chilli sauce and ginger paste; the former is similarly unremarkable, but the latter is pure, unadulterated dynamite.

Not because it is fiery and explosive, but because it is dynamite in the thrilling, electrifying sense. 

Common enough to be relegated to an afterthought, the condiment can vary from a simple mixture of blended ginger and hot oil to the deep, dark reduction of ginger, garlic and scallions you can find at Kong Sai in Taman Paramount. 

This belongs to neither camp; the chunks of ginger are rough and uneven, the colour sitting somewhere between brown and a strange grey. 

Each bite is a hefty dose of sweet and savoury notes; the warm punch of ginger remains, but mellowed. 

It’s hit after hit of balanced intensity. 

She tells me she uses whole pieces of ginger, cooked down for hours with a mixture of soy sauce and oyster sauce, before pounding it by hand. 

I spied a shallot or two, but I won’t tell.

I finished the whole jar. She noticed and offered to bring more. 

I thanked her, sheepishly, and decided against indulging my greed any further. 

Really, every neighbourhood should have its own Madam Tim. If you do, count yourself lucky. If you don’t, go looking. Because they’re still out there, in every neighbourhood — at least for now.

Madam Tim is flanked by two drink stalls on the left side of the Pusat Penjaja. Look for the white banner. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Madam Tim Chicken Rice

Gerai 2, Pusat Penjaja Taman Lucky, 

Lorong Ara Kiri 3, 

Bangsar, Kuala Lumpur.

Open Monday to Saturday, 8am—3pm

Tel: 017-310 3825

* 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 outstanding ginger pastes.

KUALA LUMPUR, Sept 26 — Tiny shifts can create major changes.

I could be talking about tectonic plates or the stock market, but in this instance I am thinking about recipes and flavours.

Specifically I am thinking about one of my favourite tong sui treats, black sesame paste or (zi ma wu in Cantonese).

As with any traditional dessert, there is more than one way to make black sesame paste. And lately I have been wondering what if I added some white sesame seeds too, to make it sort of a black and white tong sui situation.

The thought is certainly tempting, but I want to ensure I still get a bowl that is smooth, thick and properly fragrant.

Black sesame seeds have a pronounced nutty aroma — Picture by CK Lim

Here is where the little details make a difference.

Black sesame is the base, providing the characteristic deep, almost ink-black colour as well as the more robust flavour we associate with sesame paste.

It has a pronounced nutty aroma with a toasted, earthy character. On its own, however, it can sometimes make the finished paste taste a little heavy or one-dimensional.

This is where white sesame comes in. Its higher fat content and thinner outer skin allow it to release plenty of fragrant oil when toasted.

Rather than overpowering the black sesame, it helps develop its aroma further, while contributing to a smoother and more luxurious texture. The result is a paste.

What we get as a result tastes richer and less bitter, while retaining some of that characteristic stickiness that makes a good bowl of sesame paste so enjoyable.

The higher fat content of white sesame means plenty of fragrant oil is released when toasted — Picture by CK Lim

Double black and white ‘tong sui’ 

The first step is to stir-fry the sesame seeds until fragrant before grinding everything into a fine paste and cooking it. It may sound like an extra bit of work, but this is what helps bring out the aroma of the sesame and gives the finished paste a fuller, more rounded flavour.

Stir-fry the sesame seeds, stirring regularly to ensure they toast evenly — Picture by CK Lim

When it comes to the sesame seeds, I find that a ratio of about 3:1 for black sesame to white sesame works particularly well. Black sesame remains the star of the show, while the smaller amount of white sesame helps to round out its flavour and texture.

There is also a visual reason for keeping the proportion of white sesame relatively low. Part of the appeal of black sesame paste is its beautiful, glossy, ink-like colour.

Use too much white sesame and the finished paste starts to look grey and pale instead of the deep black we are after. A 1:1 ratio, for instance, would give you plenty of white sesame flavour but would sacrifice much of that familiar appearance.

So, think of the white sesame as a supporting player rather than an equal partner. It is there to lift the aroma and texture while allowing the black sesame to remain firmly in the spotlight.

The rice is another small change that makes quite a noticeable difference.

Traditionally, white rice is used to create the slurry for sesame paste. In this recipe I replace half of the white rice with black glutinous rice.

Use black glutinous rice alongside the traditional white rice to create the slurry — Picture by CK Lim

Apart from giving the paste an even deeper colour, black glutinous rice contributes a pleasant chewiness and also contains anthocyanins, adding another nutritional benefit.

This is why I call this particular recipe “Double Black & White Tong Sui” rather than just the singular version; we have black sesame and black glutinous rice as well as white sesame and white rice.

There is, of course, some room to adjust things according to your own preference. A little more black sesame will give you a stronger, more assertive flavour, while increasing the white sesame will make the paste more fragrant and mellow.

After all, some people like their sesame paste thick and almost oozing from the spoon. Others prefer it looser and more fluid, closer to a traditional Cantonese tong sui.

Both are perfect, so long as it is perfect for you.

Ingredients

100g black sesame seeds

30g white sesame seeds

15g black glutinous rice

15g white rice

800ml water

50g rock sugar or slab sugar, adjusted to taste

Coconut milk, for finishing (optional)

Method

Combine the black and white sesame seeds. Wash and drain thoroughly.

Dry-roast the sesame seeds in a wok or pan over low heat, stirring regularly to ensure they toast evenly. Continue for about 5 minutes, or until they become fragrant. Remove from the heat and set aside to cool.

Lightly dry-roast the black glutinous rice and white rice, if desired, until they become aromatic. Remove from the heat and allow them to cool.

Transfer the toasted sesame seeds and rice to a bowl. Add a small amount of water and soak for about 30 minutes. Here the rice acts as a starch slurry to thicken the sesame paste.

Pour the soaked sesame seeds, rice and soaking water into a blender. Blend thoroughly until you have a very fine, smooth mixture.

Blend everything together before cooking — Picture by CK Lim

Add the remaining water and sugar to a pot. Heat over medium heat, stirring until the sugar has completely dissolved.

Pour the blended sesame mixture into the pot. Bring the mixture to a gentle simmer, then reduce the heat to low.

Stir continuously as the mixture cooks to prevent it from catching on the bottom of the pot. Continue simmering for 5–10 minutes, or until the sesame paste has thickened to a smooth, creamy consistency.

‘Double Black & White Tong Sui’ for two — Picture by CK Lim

Serve warm, drizzled with some coconut milk, if desired.

For more Weekend Kitchen stories, visit Life for Beginners.

KUALA LUMPUR, Sept 25 — Feeling a little bored of your daily dose of latte or Americano?

Get ready for a fun experience at OFFNIC where coffee gets melded with Asian elements to create playful beverages like Tau Fu Fah Latte.

Using their house-made tau fu fah crafted from soy milk brewed by them, the bitterness in the coffee is tempered by the smooth tau fu fah, giving the drink a dessert vibe that is not too sweet.

Izumi Matcha Latte features a seahorse (left) while the latte has a squirrel (right) on top of the drink. — Picture by Choo Choy May

It also extends to a Black Sesame Latte or the Guava Lime Tea which is also unique with the use of guava jam paired with jasmine tea brewed from tea leaves imported from China.

“We set up OFFNIC as we want to serve good coffee in a fun environment,” said OFFNIC’s Charles Wong.

OFFNIC’s Charles Wong shows how to create artwork on your latte. — Picture by Choo Choy May

Plans are afoot to start roasting their coffee beans themselves too.

Currently they use the following coffee blends: Infuse Kasih (Peru and Ethiopia) as their House Blend and Golden Senja (their Single Origin Espresso from Costa Rica).

Each alphabet from the OFFNIC names has various meanings, where “O” is for origin, “FF” is for fun and flavour, “N” is for natural, “I” is for inspiration and “C” stands for craft.

Started in Puchong back in 2024, OFFNIC recently branched out to Petaling Street where it is housed inside a 150-year-old building.

Fit for the heritage area, the cafe is outfitted with nostalgic items with its Nyonya outlook. — Picture by Choo Choy May

In honour of the rich heritage of its location, the fit-out evokes a Nyonya style with dark green walls, nostalgic frilled glass lamps and curated antiques.

Specially designed merchandise — cups, mugs, bags, caps, fans and umbrellas — can also be picked up at the cafe.

It’s not only beverages as various sweet and savoury snacks can also be ordered.

Newly introduced focaccia is assembled upon order and features caramelised onions with BBQ beef. — Picture by Choo Choy May

For a more substantial meal, look towards their house-made focaccia sandwiches, made upon order.

The crowd pleasing bread retains its fluffy texture and makes for stellar sandwiches with BBQ beef and caramelised onions or a Mushroom Melt.

It’s all about fun at OFFNIC as customers try their luck at the claw machine. — Picture by Choo Choy May

OFFNIC also keeps the fun going with a claw machine at one corner; much laughter is bound to accompany the many tries to bring home a furry duck souvenir.

If you can’t get the claw machine duck, you can take home a small plastic duck dressed up to the nines with a beanie. — Picture by Choo Choy May

If you don’t succeed, they are giving a duck dressed up for the occasion to commemorate your memorable visit to OFFNIC.

You can’t miss OFFNIC with its bright pink signboard as you walk down Jalan Tun HS Lee. — Picture by Choo Choy May

OFFNIC Coffee

177, Jalan Tun HS Lee, Petaling Street, Kuala Lumpur

Tel: 011-62361688

Open: 10am to 8pm

Website: @offniccoffee

Instagram: @offnic.my

* Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.

KUALA LUMPUR, Sept 25 — When chef/butcher/restaurateur Logan Terence Lopez converted his Seputeh central kitchen into Kedai Makanan dan Minuman Ah Gan last year, all he hoped to do was utilise the space more.

The plan was simple: noodles, rice, and old-school dishes like roti babi.

Then he started serving a garlic pork roulade that really took off.

Viral fame followed, along with the inevitable crash-and-burn of multiple slammed services. Business was good, if chaotic and unsustainable.

It had become a relentless slog, unrecognisable from what Ah Gan had started as.

So it was no surprise when Lopez shuttered Ah Gan early this year.

You could still go to his Lucky Garden stalwart, Wurst, for his unique sausages, steaks, chops and other speciality cuts.

But the roti babi and pork roulade were no more.

AG. Deli is still in the same shophouse that was home to Ah Gan, but the space has been spruced up a bit. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Now, he’s back: from the ashes of Ah Gan comes AG. Deli & Charcoal Grill, still in the same Seputeh shophouse, just spruced up a tad.

The name is a nod to Ah Gan, but the space is much more personal than anything Lopez has opened before, with memorabilia scattered throughout.

A barely used scooter, green and in extremely good condition, sits in the middle of the room.

A cork board in the corner holds a photo of Lopez with Alain Ducasse, taken when he worked at Aux Lyonnais, the legendary Lyonnaise bistro founded in Paris in 1890.

Ducasse acquired it in 2002, but sold it in 2025.

The menu is divided into three sections.

A tapas classic of stuffed piquillo peppers gets a sweet dunk of Sauternes, a French dessert wine. — Picture by Ethan Lau

First, a loose collection of sharing starters reflective of Lopez’s European training, from a smoked burrata salad to stuffed piquillo peppers, tapas-style.

Next come the carbohydrates, including a prawn fideuà, the pasta equivalent to paella that also hails from Valencia, and a beef nasi ulam.

Then there is the grill, focusing on beef (Tajima Australian crossbred Wagyu, U.S. Wagyu), pork (Ibérico, Mangalica, Kurobuta), and lamb (Mottainai), along with a lone sole fish.

Lopez’s specialisation in meat means that, even though every other restaurant seems to have an in-house charcuterie program, the AG. charcuterie board (RM88) reads less like trend-hopping and more like a calling card.

It’s a selection of 90-day cured beef bresaola, coppa and truffle salami, and pork coppa, speck and salami, salt and fat melting on the tongue in equal measure.

A butcher by training, the charcuterie programme at AG. Deli is extensive, including specialty beef and pork cold cuts. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Still, there’s no mistaking one meat for the other: the bovine flavour of beef is too recognisable, as is its relative leanness to pork.

Air-dried and salted, bresaola in particular is a firm, lean bite, in stark contrast to marbled pork coppa.

For the uninitiated, coppa is also known as gabagool, the beloved snack from The Sopranos.

It is traditionally taken from the neck and shoulder of the pig and dry-cured.

The beef version here, too, is slightly fatty. A few bites of the accompanying cornichons will see to that.

Piquillo peppers (RM35), stuffed with pork and sitting in a pool of olive oil infused with garlic, chilli and Sauternes, are about as comforting as tapas gets.

The piquillo pepper is sweet with little to no heat, and Sauternes, a French dessert wine, only adds to the fragrant sweetness of this dish.

The main event is a 200-gram steak of Tajima Australian crossbred Wagyu, taken from the short plate (RM60), a cut from below the ribs that is commonly used for short ribs and skirt steak.

It’s a lean, beefy cut, brilliant with nothing but ample salt, and very reminiscent of a hanger steak.

And though Lopez serves steaks at Wurst, they don’t get the same char and smoke as these do over an open flame.

On the side: a grilled chrysanthemum leaf, slightly bitter and better known to us as tong ho, and a sweet potato.

A local outlier on the menu, AG. Deli’s ‘nasi ulam’ comes topped with Wagyu burnt ends. — Picture by Ethan Lau

One of the outliers on an otherwise Eurocentric menu is the beef nasi ulam (RM45), replete with bunga kantan, kacang botol, serai and ulam raja.

Crispy bits of salted fish add a real salt-boost. It’s topped with roasted Wagyu burnt ends, but frankly, the beef is a bit of a filler.

It’s a shrewd way to use up trimmings, yet the nasi ulam is flavourful enough to stand on its own.

If it was nasi kerabu with some Wagyu lemak bakar, however... now that would be a different story.

Desserts and butchers aren’t typically associated with one another, but Wurst does a pretty good tiramisu.

So I was intrigued enough to try one of the three charmingly old-school desserts: the Eton mess (RM25).

A simple, old-school dessert of Eton mess. — Picture by Ethan Lau

It comes with kampung mango in place of strawberries. It’s an admittedly low-effort concoction, yet meringue, whipped cream and sweet fruit, even at their worst, are solid. And this is far, far from bad.

At AG., Lopez is going back to his training roots.

Even as the menu appears “simple”, it’s a more personal, more complete restaurant than Ah Gan was ever meant to be.

Here’s hoping it sticks around longer.

AG. Deli & Charcoal Grill

11-1, Persiaran Syed Putra 3,

Taman Persiaran Desa, Kuala Lumpur.

Open Monday to Wednesday, 5.30 — 10.30pm

Tel: 011-3107 2028

Instagram: @agdeli_kl

* 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 charcuterie and steak.

KUALA LUMPUR, Sept 24 — “Do you want a knuckle sandwich?”

Now that’s not a question you’d typically wish to be presented with. For those unfamiliar with the term, it’s basically street slang for a punch in the face with a clenched fist (hence “knuckle sandwich”).

Unless the knuckle sandwich in question is a pork knuckle sandwich.

I’ve had braised pork trotter noodles in Cheras and Sitiawan-style Fook Chow red wine braised pork knuckle (hongjiu lu zhushou). From Thai braised pork knuckle (kha mu) in Melaka to Bavarian roasted ham hock (Bayrischer Schweinshaxe) in Munich.

And let’s not forget black vinegar pork trotters (ju geok cho), the ultimate comfort food when you’re feeling run down or battling a cold on rainy days.

All delicious. But a proper pork knuckle sandwich? I never even knew such a thing existed.

The Willow is a cosy café in Happy Garden offering a fuss-free fusion fare and local favourites. — Picture by CK Lim

Which is why the Pork Knuckle Sourdough Sandwich at The Willow is such a pleasant surprise. The meat is velvety and gelatinous, an utterly luxurious mouth-feel with every bite.

Pair this with a side of crunchy, fried-to-order onion rings, and you have something more than just a meal: it’s an entire experience.

And the experience, if you’re wondering, is warm and welcoming. Run by the husband-and-wife team of Gary and Katherine, The Willow is a cosy café in Taman Gembira (better known to local residents as Happy Garden).

Their menu offers fuss-free fusion fare and local favourites; expect yuzu pork belly don and garlic shoyu beef pasta sharing the limelight with Hainanese chicken chops and nasi lemak with prawn petai sambal.

Given my lack of familiarity with it, I’m guessing the aforementioned pork knuckle sandwich falls under the former category.

To be fair, Gary didn’t ask “Do you want a knuckle sandwich?” but rather pointed it out on their menu to us.

With more social media friendly dishes such as their Porkynara (essentially a carbonara, albeit with more pork) and their oceanic Seafood Salada, it’s easy to overlook the somewhat ungainly sounding Pork Knuckle Sourdough Sandwich.

Which would be a pity, because it’s a showstopper; the savoury notes and decadent texture a pleasurable punch in the taste buds (rather than one in the face, thankfully!).

Refreshing drinks pairing longan with watermelon (left) or coffee with citrus (right). — Pictures by CK Lim

Given the hot, hazy weather recently, we quenched our thirst with refreshing drinks pairing longan with watermelon or coffee with citrus. Iced kombucha hit the spot too.

Aloha Burger. — Picture by CK Lim

Another popular item is their Aloha Burger, with a house-made pork patty (not the frozen, pre-made variety), fresh orange wedge and tangy dressing. For beef lovers, their Steak Sourdough Sandwich will satisfy.

Steak Sourdough Sandwich. — Picture by CK Lim

But given three of the four orders are variations on sandwiches and burgers, we’d be accused of being boring if we went for more bread or buns.

Instead our last pick is The Willow’s signature Mamak Pasta. Traditionally, our Malaysian mee goreng mamak uses yellow egg noodles; here they stir fried pasta with plenty of tofu and vegetables.

The Willow’s signature Mamak Pasta. — Picture by CK Lim

One of us remarked that the crunchy bits of fried mushrooms reminded him of tempura batter. That is, if tempura was tossed with a savoury, sweet and spicy sauce. A quick squeeze of calamansi (limau kasturi) brightens everything.

The Willow is the quintessential neighbourhood haven, a place for neighbours, families and friends to catch up over simple, good food. What more do we need, really?

The Willow

74, Jalan Rukun 4,

Taman Gembira (Happy Garden), KL.

Open Mon-Fri (except Tue closed) 11am–9pm, Sat & Sun 11am–9:30pm

Phone: 010-221 1032

IG: https://www.instagram.com/thewillow_happygarden/

FB: https://www.facebook.com/thewillowhappygarden/

For more food fables and café chronicles, visit Life for Beginners.

* This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal.

* Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.

SUBANG JAYA, Sept 23 — In Japan, the hamburger steak can be found in yoshoku (Japanese-Western) restaurants or even in home kitchens.

Hambagu as it’s referred to in Japan, isn’t a steak made from a single piece of meat but is fashioned from minced meat shaped into patties. 

No bun is used, rice is the chosen accompaniment for the hambagu. 

It is typically served with a rich brown sauce, known as demi-glace. Variations include pairing it with curry and even tomato sauce. 

Hikiniku to Come changed all this the moment they opened their doors in Japan in 2019 with the philosophy: “Just ground. Just grilled. Just cooked.” 

Wagyu beef patties are made from freshly ground beef and grilled over a smoky fire allowing you to enjoy them at their prime.

Shohei Yamamoto devised the concept with his partners, Toshiyuki Kiyomiya and Toshiyuki Konishi, pushing that Japanese philosophy to focus on one item and take it to its absolute best. 

The brand has spread from multiple locations in Japan to Taiwan, Korea, Hong Kong, Thailand, Indonesia, the Philippines, and Singapore with Malaysia being the latest addition. 

When you arrive at the Sunway Pyramid outlet, you may encounter a queue that starts from 10am before the place opens at 11am. 

On weekdays, the queue is shorter. If there’s no backlog of people waiting, you will be seated quickly once a spot is available. 

You get your own personal grill in front of your seat that keeps the patty warm.

Weekends have a higher volume of diners. They manage the queue by asking customers to book their preferred time slots, allowing you to shop in the mall while you wait.

Ordering is done at the kiosk and a staff member will guide you to select your choices. 

Everyone must order the set for RM67.90, which includes three Wagyu hamburger steaks (each weighing 90 grams), a raw egg, unlimited refills of Japanese rice, miso soup and daikon oroshi — their homemade ponzu vinegar paired with freshly grated radish. 

Add-ons like a kimchi salad, minced meat potato salad (RM8.90) and their signature sauce (RM4.90) can also be ordered, but the set is sufficient since they already provide an assortment of toppings and seasonings at your seat. 

Staff will lead you to your seat at a round-shaped counter surrounding a grill. 

You will walk past an enclosed chilled room where workers diligently prepare the patties. 

Every patty is freshly ground in-house daily and shaped with their rubber gloved hands.

According to Business World from the Philippines, each country has its own recipe for the patties, known only to the founder. 

While the ingredient ratios are unknown, Hikiniku to Come in Malaysia confirmed in a social media post that their Wagyu patties are made from 100 per cent beef.

Refreshing radish (left) with their homemade 'ponzu' vinegar, served with your second beef patty. Minced meat potato salad (right) can also be ordered to accompany your meal.

Once you sit down, the server explains everything so quickly that the load of information may bewilder you. 

Thankfully, a card inside the drawer provides detailed information. 

You get your miso soup and a bowl of freshly cooked rice scooped from the hagama pot. 

It’s a three-part experience course to enjoy the hamburger steaks in various ways. 

First, enjoy the patty on its own, delivered straight from the main grill to the small grill in front of you that keeps it warm. 

Putting the patty on the bowl of rice lets the grains catch the juices that ooze out the moment you squeeze the patty with your chopsticks. 

It’s incredibly juicy as you bite through the charred crust to relish the beefy flavour. 

The last beef patty is topped with an egg yolk that oozes golden happiness over the meat-and-rice combination.

Various condiments are on hand to enhance the experience: crunchy fried garlic flakes, Mou’s Xinjiang spice mix for heat, oil-marinated green chilli for a spicy kick, salted lemon with green chilli pepper to cut through the richness and Japanese pepper sauce. 

The salted lemon is my pick to relieve the palate from the beef patty’s richness.

Once you finish the first patty, the second beef patty arrives at your personal grill, together with a bowl of grated radish and their homemade ponzu vinegar. 

The crunchy radish adds a freshness as you pour the ponzu vinegar over it, making it my favourite combination. 

I slowly relish every bit of the patty, which takes on a different taste with the radish. 

Once you finish, it’s the swan song for the last patty, which is the egg yolk version.

The Japanese are particular about how one should eat rice at the table, forbidding soy sauce from touching the grains. 

However, for the hamburger steak on rice, you’re exempted from those rules so add soy flakes and top it with the egg yolk for a super rich experience. 

As the golden yolk oozes over the patty, it becomes a rich sauce with a beefy flavour. 

It drips down the rice, transforming the grains yellow and giving it a decadent flavour. 

Those with bigger appetites can also order extra hamburger steak.  

Prior to Hikiniku to Come’s opening, copycats had already appeared in Kuala Lumpur, attempting to mimic this similar concept of hamburger steak on rice, cooked right in front of you. 

While they can follow the same method, they falter badly with the patty because it’s never as juicy and decadent as Hikiniku to Come’s. 

The set-up is minimalist with a round-shaped counter surrounding the charcoal grill to give you a front row view of the cooking action.

Even their condiments aren’t as numerous compared to the spread at Hikiniku to Come, which is a major part of the whole experience.

Looking at other places’ pricing, they offer a variety of Angus beef, Japanese Wagyu beef and chicken patties, where three hamburger steaks cost RM74 with unlimited Japanese rice, miso soup and vegetables. 

Your pasteurised egg yolk is an add-on for RM3. 

All this makes Hikiniku to Come’s RM67.90 set reasonable. 

If you plan properly to shop at Sunway Pyramid while you wait for your turn, the whole dining experience will be incredibly enjoyable.

Hikiniku to Come

G1.111, Ground Floor, 

Sunway Pyramid, 

3, Jalan PJS 11/15, 

Bandar Sunway, Subang Jaya.

Open daily: 11am to 9.15pm.

Same-day booking opens at 10am on a first-come, first-served basis.

Instagram: @hikiniku_to_come_myofficial

*This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal.

*Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.

SHAH ALAM, Sept 22 — What happens when a viral food trend lands in the hands of bakers who can’t help but try and make it better?

In Cake Jalan Tiung’s case, the result is a butter tteok that is darker, crunchier and more dessert-like than the versions elsewhere.

Made with glutinous rice flour and plenty of butter, the Korean-inspired baked rice cake has taken the internet by storm, from South Korea to Malaysia. (The tteok in its name translates to “rice cake” in Korean.)

“The first bite is the edge: deeply crispy and caramelised, with a rich buttery aroma,” says Hidzad Bin Lahuree, who runs the Shah Alam bakery with his wife, Nur Shafinaz Binti Abdul Rahman. “Then it gives way to a light interior with a slightly mochi-like chewiness.”

The combination is clearly compelling: crunchy, caramelised, chewy, and a little char from the oven. Really, what’s not to like?

Hidzad Bin Lahuree runs the Shah Alam bakery with his wife, Nur Shafinaz Binti Abdul Rahman.

There is also another factor at play: our country’s continuing fascination with South Korean culture.

Hidzad says, “From K-dramas and K-pop to skincare, cafés and food, anything South Korean is very much in vogue in Malaysia right now. Butter tteok arrived riding that wave.”

But the Korean connection alone would not be enough to explain the craze in Malaysia.

“We love chewy things here, so it feels familiar, but the crisp edge makes it feel new,” Hidzad explains.

The simple flavour profile also helps: butter, a hint of sweetness and a deeply browned exterior. Simple yet far from straightforward. There’s just something irresistible about these buttery rice cakes.

Hidzad says, “It’s a trend that happens to taste really good, and amazingly simple clean flavours which is very rare.”

Crispy and caramelised outside, slightly chewy like 'mochi' inside.

He adds, “Butter tteok is also very social-media friendly, because when you break a piece open you see that golden crust and soft centre.”

Cake Jalan Tiung itself only came across the trend recently. Hidzad confesses, “Here’s a fun fact: neither of us has ever tried butter tteok in South Korea!”

Like many others, the couple encountered it through social media, where the buzz was enough to spark their curiosity. They began experimenting with their own version nearly two months ago.

But the first attempts did not quite satisfy them. Hidzad recalls, “To our palate they tasted too much of glutinous rice, too ‘pulut’, if that makes sense.”

For a bakery better known for pastries and desserts, that was a challenge they were ready to take on.

Rather than simply reproduce what was already popular, Hidzad wanted “something closer to a dessert, so we reworked it until it was almost like a very crunchy canelé.”

It took about four rounds of testing before Cake Jalan Tiung was happy with the taste and appearance.

That relatively short development period belies the precision involved: the bakery was not merely trying to make a rice cake with a crisp outside, but one with a very particular contrast between crust and centre.

Fresh from the oven (left). A small serving of condensed milk on the side for dipping (right).

Cake Jalan Tiung’s version — which comes with a small serving of condensed milk on the side for dipping, adding a little extra indulgence — has proven to be remarkably popular.

“Within two weeks of launching, it became a smash bestseller,” Hidzad says. “In August alone we sold around 4,000 sets.”

The difference between Cake Jalan Tiung’s version and other butter tteok is immediately apparent. The bakery deliberately bakes its rice cakes darker, creating a deeply browned shell with a slightly imperfect appearance.

“It’s our signature Cake Jalan Tiung style: we bake darker,” Hidzad explains. “That gives a crisp outer shell and a rustic look, with a light airy interior underneath.”

There is also another detail that might not be obvious immediately. Hidzad shares, “It has an almost mochi texture inside but we don’t use any mochi. Instead it comes from using tapioca flour.”

Again, simple but not always straightforward. Take getting the exterior just right; this requires more than simply baking until the cakes turn dark.

Hidzad says the deep, crisp crust needs a high-end oven, which is “why we use an Unox, plus special trays that can handle very high temperatures.”

This approach reflects Cake Jalan Tiung’s philosophy of marrying flavours and textures that feel both familiar and slightly unexpected, such as their now iconic pandan and gula Melaka croissant, but never chasing novelty for its own sake.

“We’re bakers first,” says Hidzad. “So we treat butter tteok the way we treat everything else at Cake Jalan Tiung, with attention to colour, crust and texture.”

For their butter tteok, that means keeping the flavour deliberately clean. This, Hidzad says, means “real high quality French butter and restrained sweetness, with the sweetness in the background instead of taking over.”

That also explains why the cakes are left looking almost deliberately unfinished.

“Rustic elegance means we don’t over-decorate,” he says. “It comes out dark golden and slightly imperfect, and that’s part of its charm.”

Cake Jalan Tiung makes around 450 pieces every day and sells out almost daily.

So you might not necessarily reach for the prettiest piece.

“The ideal one, at its freshest, has a shell that crackles when you bite it, then a light warm interior with a slightly mochi-like chewiness, and butter on the finish rather than sugar.”

Indeed, that freshness is crucial. Like many baked goods built around texture, butter tteok is at its best soon after it comes out of the oven.

Today, Cake Jalan Tiung makes around 450 pieces every day, which is 150 sets of three pieces each. They are available from 10:30am and sell out almost daily.

From Seoul to Shah Alam, butter tteok is clearly a new feather in Cake Jalan Tiung’s cap.

But perhaps more importantly, it is also a way for this hardworking duo to give their customers more reason to smile.

Or as Hidzad puts it: “You should feel comforted and always want another piece.”

Cake Jalan Tiung

No. 9, Jalan Sukun 4/7, 

Seksyen 4, Shah Alam.

Open daily (except Thu closed) 8am–6pm

Phone: 012-878 7258

Web: cakejalantiung.com

IG: instagram.com/cakejalantiung/

FB: facebook.com/cakejalantiung/

PETALING JAYA, Sept 21 — It’s 5.30pm on a Sunday.

You walk into Lek by Lalachong, which is said to open at 5:30pm, but almost every table is filled with diners. Some are already tucking into their dinner.

Barely a month old, the newcomer is pulling the crowd with its family ties to the 31-year-old Lala Chong Seafood Restaurant (Lala Chong) which built its reputation on fresh seafood.

The face behind Lek is Chrysann Yim, the daughter of Lala Chong’s owner, Yim Sie Chong who picked up the nickname “Lala Chong” for his expertise in handling clams.

She brings a fresh perspective to typical seafood establishments with a menu that blends local favourites with Thai and Indonesian flavours.

On every table, a plate of crabs takes the prized centre spot like a favourite child as it’s their grand opening special: two extra large crabs cooked with your choice of flavour from the menu for RM88, valid until September 30 or as they disclaim in the notice till stocks last.

It’s a steal worth ordering as the sweet flesh is easily extracted from the crab’s body and claws.

However, you won’t get orange roe, as these are not that type of crab. But hey, it’s probably better since the roe is armed with cholesterol that could possibly make you start taking statins.

Ayam Goreng Kunyit Sambal Merah is the sleeper hit with juicy meat scented with turmeric powder and that mind blowing chilli sauce. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Familiar choices like salted egg, chili sauce, sweet and sour, buttermilk and kam heong (fragrant sauce) can be ordered. Since Thai-style curry isn’t your typical pairing, that was what we focused on.

It’s a drier curry that may disappoint those looking forward to copious sauce drenching the crabs for dipping their fluffy deep fried mantou buns.

Instead, it’s more like a fluffy omelette scented with a sweeter Thai spice paste stir-fried with the crabs and a jumble of curry leaves, onions and chili.

This may be a neat freak’s dream crab dish, since it doesn’t leave your fingers covered in sauce as you extract every bit of flesh.

BBQ Stingray Fish gets the smoky makeover penetrating every piece so you can slowly relish it with their spicy sauce. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Seafood-focused restaurants often dismiss other proteins, making it seem like an unwritten rule not to order side dishes like chicken.

Ayam Goreng Kunyit Sambal Merah (RM20) defies that.

Use your fingers to tear through the golden fried chicken dusted with turmeric powder to discover a juicy chook that will leave other famous chicken brands crowing away.

The secret is probably a freshly slaughtered chicken at its prime since the bone is pristine and not darkened with time.

Superior Soup Lala still holds supreme with its creamy molluscs served in a milky broth laced with sesame oil. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

It doesn’t stop there as next to it is a bright red chunky chilli sauce with head-blowing heat that is strangely reminiscent of ayam gepuk, the darling of the F&B scene that people love to squander their time for in long queues.

Who doesn’t love flame licked seafood and protein, the popular supper dish when night falls?

BBQ Stingray Fish (RM60) hits hard; its time over the fire imparts an unmistakable smokiness clinging to its flesh.

The fish is cut into pieces, allowing the smoky flavour to penetrate better and making it easier for many hands to share communally, and cooked with a spicy sauce, a squeeze of lime and raw onions for freshness.

Lala Kuey Teow may have fewer clams, but the hero is the smoky scented noodles slick with the eggy sauce. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

We also dutifully ordered their signature Superior Soup Lala (RM25) with plump molluscs cradled in thick white shells, swimming in a milky looking broth laced with sesame oil and whole green chilies.

Sharp-eyed diners may notice the disparity in the number of clams if they place the Superior Soup Lala side-by-side with their Lala Kuey Teow (RM30) but the latter dish seems to celebrate the flat ribbons more with its smokiness and eggy sauce, making the clams just a side act.

Greens tend to be an afterthought, more like a chore one orders to appease the elders to be “healthy,” but their Paku Cold Salad with Ikan Bilis from Pulau Pangkor (RM20) is a worthy dish to get the good-for-you fibre you need.

Paku Cold Salad with Ikan Bilis from Pulau Pangkor is the type of greens you can happily eat to get your much needed fibre. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Tangy. Crunchy. These fern fronds get a hit of flavour with the fried ikan bilis lightly coated with sugar for a shattering crispy bite.

Thai Lemongrass Prawn (RM55) is for those tired of working their fingers on the crabs as it’s shell-less and coated in a lemongrass sauce, making it easy to pop in the mouth.

Weekends see overwhelming crowds especially on Sunday nights, when almost every family declares the home kitchen is on holiday.

Thankfully, it was quieter on a Friday evening.

Thai Lemongrass Prawn (left) you can pop like candy. Sunday night (right) is when every family takes over the dining room for their weekend treat. — Pictures by Lee Khang Yi

If you sit outside, there’s more space to stretch out and you won’t feel packed in like sardines in a can, especially when a child decides to throw a screaming fit while you’re struggling to eat your noodles.

Gigantic stand fans are also around, blowing air to cool you down as you slowly savour every bit of the sweet flesh from the crabs.

What’s most amazing is how the service staff remain serene amid the chaos while food comes out quickly from the kitchen.

That kind of service is probably why many, including us, will keep returning again and again.

Their location in the dining enclave of Ara Permata means you can easily wander around for an after-dinner drink or even dessert at neighbouring places. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Lek by Lalachong

8, Jalan PJU 1A/42A,

Ara Permata,

Ara Damansara, Petaling Jaya.

Open: 11am to 2.30pm. 5.30pm to 10.30pm. Closed on Tuesdays.

Tel: 011-55520316

Facebook: @Lekseafood

Instagram: @lekseafood_

* This is an independent review where the writer paid for the meal.

* Follow us on Instagram @eatdrinkmm for more food gems.