KUALA LUMPUR, May 27 — Pizza Amane Tokyo definitely stands out from the crowd with its Sunkist orange look and its decision to offer the bigger NY-style pizzas. 

Even the toppings differ; some have a Japanese slant while others are classic like their newly launched beef pepperoni. 

Following customer feedback, they improved their dough by using a longer baking time and a refined fermentation process, making it crispier yet still soft.

There are also promotional prices to entice people to try the place out. 

Tender Japanese Wagyu grade A5 with a slight sweet flavour is the highlight of this pizza.

Unlike other pizza spots, their dough is soft, easily pulled apart and so much easier to finish—even the crust, which I often struggle with.

With its improved dough it’s even better and noticeably crispier at the bottom but not hard or dried out. 

One XXL slice is more than enough for one person. 

Pizza Tamaki (RM14.90 per slice), their signature flavour designed with Japan’s Pizza Studio Tamaki, may look simple but it’s definitely on my repeat order list. 

Butter Chicken Masala is a spicy, fragrant and creamy combination that works well with the softer pizza base.

This white sauce pizza, made with smoky mozzarella cheese, cherry tomatoes and fresh basil, is drizzled with a fruity extra virgin olive oil. 

It’s all about classic flavours but is lightened for the stomach, allowing one to fully enjoy the pizza. 

Salmon Miso Cream is an unusual mix of miso marinated salmon with cream cheese that is surprisingly not too rich -- Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Build a set with French fries or their Japanese fried chicken (karaage), which is crispy on the outside and juicy inside. 

A5 Wagyu Pizza (RM38.90) is controversial due to its higher price but it’s definitely enjoyable with the sliced Japanese A5 grade Wagyu seasoned with a sweet yakiniku sauce flavour. 

Japanese Fried Chicken (left) is crunchy and juicy inside. The Matcha Slurry (right) keeps you cool as you drink up the 100 per cent matcha drink.

Butter Chicken Masala (RM23.90) is their staff’s pick, likely due to the spicy, fragrant flavours tempered with yogurt and cream. 

Salmon Miso Cream (RM28.90) is the most unusual, featuring miso-marinated salmon and mozzarella on a bechamel sauce base. 

Orange pops up everywhere in their eatery which once housed Dottys in Taman Tun Dr Ismail.

The flaked fish has a softer texture that isn’t dried out, and the miso adds a nice umami flavour to the pizza. 

Other flavours include Hawaii Chicken, Japanese Teriyaki Chicken and Spicy Beef Sausage. The latest addition is the classic Beef Pepperoni, introduced with special pricing available from May 19 onwards.

Then there is their newly-introduced Matcha Slushy (RM12.90) which differs from your typical icy cold drinks. 

It has a distinctive matcha flavour and melts slower than others, allowing you to enjoy the matcha flavour longer.

Look for that bright orange facade that will grab your eyes for super large pizza slices.

Pizza Amane Tokyo

20, Jalan Tun Mohd Fuad 2, 

Taman Tun Dr Ismail, KL.

Open daily: 11am to 10pm

Instagram: @pizza_amane_tokyo

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

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

MELAKA, May 26 — Just beyond the bustle of Jonker Street — and by that I include the wider tangle of Heeren Street, Jalan Tokong and little alleys such as Lorong Hang Kasturi — Melaka’s coffee culture has settled into something of a permanent café hop.

Tourists drift from one specialty coffee stop to another, admiring hand brews at Coffeebar 125+ or squeezing past camera-toting influencers outside The Coffee Jar (both cafés are favourites of mine, by the way, and come highly recommended).

The area thrives on its own curated charm: heritage façades restored for the Instagram generation, espresso machines humming behind century-old shutters.

This trip we decided to turn away from the familiar current of visitors and wander towards Kampung Jawa instead. 

Further down lies Jalan Bunga Raya, once among the busiest commercial stretches during Melaka’s post-war heyday.

Today the road is still full of locals seeking their regular bowls of wantan mee or plates of char siew rice — classic Malaccan eats that those who grew up here appreciate, as much for the nostalgia as their flavours.

Here the atmosphere is a far cry from Jonker Street. Fewer tourists, for one.

Gibraltar. — Picture by CK Lim 

This is where we find, facing the main road but surprisingly unobtrusive, AB Coffee Brewers.

The café feels shaped by the memory of Jalan Bunga Raya itself. 

This was once a lively corridor of colourful store fronts in the 1950s, though much of that energy has faded as businesses shuttered and younger generations moved elsewhere.

Rather than resisting that history, AB Coffee Brewers folds it into the design of the space. 

Terracotta floor tiles, inspired by Melaka’s long relationship with clay craftsmanship, lend the room an earthy warmth.

That same warmth repeats in the effusive greetings we received upon entering the space. 

The baristas are more than happy to go through their menu with us, sharing their suggestions for coffee and little bakes.

Filter brew. — Picture by CK Lim 

I decided on the Gibraltar, a drink I haven’t seen on a coffee menu in years. Two shots of espresso tempered by a modest amount of steamed milk.

Served in the thick-walled Libbey Gibraltar glass from which the drink takes its name, I can’t help but notice the layers suspended in the glass, dreamy and delicate.

Though often compared to a cortado — and known elsewhere as a noisette, Tallat or Garoto — the Gibraltar belongs to the brisk coffee culture of San Francisco, where it emerged sometime around the mid-2000s.

Its appeal lies in proportion. There is enough milk to soften the bitterness of the espresso, enough coffee to maintain structure and depth.

Not as airy as a cappuccino, not as severe as a straight shot. More enjoyable than either, if you ask me, given the right mood.

Equally compelling is their filter brews. The one we chose is made with Ethiopia Nigusse Nare Murango Lot Q beans, roasted by Cheras micro-roastery Arkib.

The fragrance carries notes of dried fruit and warm sugar, each mouthful layered with gentle sweetness. 

‘Chai masala’ cheesecake. — Picture by CK Lim 

This is a coffee that rewards patience, revealing different textures and flavours as the temperature drops.

Every sip feels like a breather from the Jonker crowds, especially with the well curated ambience. 

The lighting is soft without feeling dim, encouraging visitors to settle into their seats rather than rush through their cups.

The food menu leans towards home-style bakes and desserts. 

First, a chai masala cheesecake; this Basque-style rendition has deeply bronzed edges with a softly trembling centre. We detect cardamom and nutmeg, but above all: heady cinnamon, my favourite.

Then there is the panna cotta, the café’s specialty that is made in-house. Depending on when you visit, you can sample different takes on this Italian dessert.

The sirap bandung version carries the fragrance of rose through sweetened milk, while a seasonal orange variation cuts through the cream with bright citrus oils and a faint bitterness.

‘Kuih talam’ panna cotta. — Picture by CK Lim 

But my favourite has to be their kuih talam panna cotta. Pale green and perfumed with pandan, it balances grassy sweetness against the savoury richness of coconut milk. A touch of salt smoothens the creaminess and sweetness.

Light, yes, but it feels decadent nonetheless.

What AB Coffee Brewers offers, ultimately, is an unassuming “drop by if you like” atmosphere that has become increasingly rare in heritage districts polished for tourism.

Here, customers are encouraged to linger over coffee, sink deep in conversation, or simply lepak for an hour or two without feeling hurried along by queues outside the door.

The café has an unassuming, ‘just drop by’ atmosphere. — Picture by CK Lim 

Perhaps that is its greatest luxury. Away from the dense throngs orbiting Jonker Street, AB Coffee Brewers still feels calm, separate from the churn of Melaka’s café circuit.

Will that serenity survive the years ahead? Who can say? For now, though, it remains a space worth savouring slowly.

AB Coffee Brewers

87, Jalan Bunga Raya, 

Kampung Jawa, Melaka.

Open daily 8am-8pm

Phone: 017-948 3543

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

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

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

LONDON, May 25 — Matrimonial Chicken inspired by Ayam Masak Merah. Pajeri Nenas. Coconut Pandan Layered Custard inspired by Tepung Pelita. Pandan Tiramisu.

The Malay Cook is  Ranie Saidi’s way of preserving the legacy of his grandmother Che Aminah Ismail’s signature wedding catering dishes.

The debut cookbook by London-based Ranie is selling well in the UK – it hit 1,000 pre-orders before its actual release – where Malay and Malaysian cuisine is growing beyond just nasi lemak and char kway teow.

Ranie contributed to this with his very popular and always sold-out supper clubs in London.

“I started cooking as part of grieving my grandmother’s loss. Two years after she passed away, I moved to London, thinking that putting an ocean between myself and my grief would somehow make it easier,” Ranie said.

As a young boy, Ranie was his grandmother’s little shadow, quietly learning just by watching her cook.

Born in Pasir Mas, Che Aminah lived all over Malaysia with her army officer husband until she settled down in Taiping to open her wedding catering service.

Sadly, after she died, her treasured recipe book was stolen, robbing the family of their inheritance.

In London, Ranie Saidi participated in various supper clubs to showcase Malay food (left). Each menu curated by Ranie Saidi told of his culinary heritage which he inherited from his late grandmother (right). — Pictures courtesy of Ranie Saidi

What Ranie was left with were his taste memories of the dishes and an important lesson on how to become an intuitive cook.

“The greatest lesson she ever gave me was the art of tasting. The Malay flavours I grew up with were never overly spicy or overly sweet.”

“It was always about balance, where no flavour dominates because every ingredient has its own place and purpose.”

In London, Ranie searched for his identity by recreating his grandmother’s dishes, using memories gathered from his parents and aunt.

At that time, Malaysian food was gaining popularity primarily for its unique Chinese and Indian dishes but Malay fare was still little known in London.

“This became a catalyst to reclaim the Malay cooking I grew up with.  At the same time, I also had to be honest about how living in London had changed my life. I adapted the dishes and ingredients to reflect that life while still respecting the essence.”

Of all his grandmother’s dishes, Daging Masak Hitam was the hardest to recreate. By the time Ranie’s father asked her for the recipe, her memory had failed and she could not recall some of the steps.

With different versions from his relatives, Ranie had to recreate the dish from memory and instinct.

One of the desserts served at Ranie Saidi’s supper club reflects distinct Malay flavours. — Picture courtesy of Ranie Saidi

“At the same time, I also needed to make it accessible for people who may have never cooked Malay food before.”

“The recipe in the book became a celebration of both my grandmother’s cooking and my own interpretation, which involves cooking it in the oven to better suit the London lifestyle. I hope Malaysians won’t bash me for this!”

The book offers an in-depth glimpse into the agak-agak method of cooking which shuns precise measurements but relies instead on taste,

Ranie takes it a step further by tabulating how to achieve the various flavour groups — sweet, sour, salty, spicy, creaminess, aromatic, nutty and pungent — in The Malay Flavour Table,

The table also has a dual purpose, as Ranie explained, “accessibility is really important to him,” having gone through the challenges of not always being able to find the right ingredients in London.

It’s a table built from many years of trial and error, as Ranie had to go through many failures before finding the right substitutions.

Ranie shares how some called his sambal inauthentic because he omits belacan, since it’s a Kelantanese recipe.

He had to omit it earlier due to the lack of supply and because he was concerned for his neighbours who won’t appreciate the pungent smell of fermented prawn paste.

A plate of fragrant lime and pandan rice is paired with his grandmother’s recipe for Malay Wedding Curry as inspired by Ayam Masak Merah, together with Potato and Tempeh Sambal and Pineapple Relish (left). Pandan Kaswi Steamed Cake with vanilla and palm sugar ice cream and shredded coconut (right). — Pictures courtesy of Ranie Saidi

“The Malay Flavour Table exists to give people options and substitutions, whether due to ingredient accessibility, allergies or dietary requirements. What I never want is for someone to look at a recipe and decide not to cook it simply because they can’t find one ingredient!

“Truthfully, our food culture has always been adaptable and resourceful and I think that’s one of its greatest strengths, which we should celebrate. That flexibility is part of what makes Malay cooking so special and alive.”

At the heart of Malay cooking are the spices, pastes and sambal, which form the foundation of many dishes.

Preparing them properly requires significant time and care; Ranie believes this is why they deserve the spotlight in the main part of the cookbook.

In London, supermarket shelves are dominated more by spice blends for Pakistani or Indian dishes, which led Ranie to create his own spice mix to cook the gulai he missed from the East Coast.

This cookbook was a labour of love that took him three years to bring to life.

Despite rejections from five literary agents, he pushed ahead and connected with his current agent who guided him through the writing and rewriting process.

“Many cookbooks are built around comforting memories whereas my story began from grief and vulnerability — subjects we don’t often openly discuss. Finding the balance between storytelling and recipes took time.”

Like therapy, Ranie found his voice through repeated writing, which led his publisher to take a chance on him as a debut author.

The cookbook’s design, especially the cover, is layered with meaning, benefiting from Ranie’s experience in creative brand building and reflecting his roots as a Malay cook.

Ranie Saidi also released a limited Red Ginger Lily Chili Oil for sale, where torch ginger flower or ‘bunga kantan’ is used to infuse chili oil. — Pictures courtesy of Ranie Saidi

His brief required incorporating the colours of the Malaysian flag, the hibiscus as the national flower and squares on the book’s spine to reflect the craftsmanship of the Malay tikar mengkuang weaving tradition.

After its release, the cookbook quickly went into reprint, as it found favour with many. This is a boon for Ranie as a debut author because everything depends on sales figures.

Media attention in the US and London has been overwhelming too, showing people’s eagerness to learn more about the dishes.

“Seeing some of the dishes featured on the covers of national newspapers has been incredibly emotional. Malaysian food is so loved on this side of the world and I felt proud to contribute to the conversation.

“In many ways I was reclaiming what had been lost and sharing it in a way I hope my grandmother would have wanted. I never wanted to write simply for the sake of writing. It had to carry meaning and purpose that could outlive me one day.”

Ranie hopes the book will also inspire others to collect their family recipes before they disappear.

“Recipes carry history, memory and identity and they deserve to be passed from one generation to the next.”

* ’The Malay Cook’ is available at Kinokuniya Malaysia or the bookstore’s website.

* For more on Ranie Saidi’s journey, follow his Instagram: @raniesaidi

PETALING JAYA, May 24 — Sometimes it takes a fresh set of eyes to show you something you’ve been missing, especially when it’s been right under your nose the entire time. 

I’ve lived my entire life next to the neighbourhood of Taman Mayang Jaya in Petaling Jaya, and almost every Sunday morning, my parents and I would drive through it to head to St. Ignatius for mass when I was a kid. 

And twice a week on weekdays, I’d go to a house for my dreaded maths tuition, kicking (denial), screaming (anger) and dragging my feet (bargaining) on the way in, where depression and eventually acceptance waited for me in the form of algebra and linear equations. 

My teacher was a lovely lady, but I can still remember the oppressive glare of her kitchen lights; the loud, piercing sound of her pen scratching on paper; and the deafening silence that the other eight-year-olds and I had to maintain for two hours, lest we incur her wrath. 

I’m getting chills just writing this. 

Tea Time Kopitiam is popular during lunchtime, when parking is much harder to find.

One day, I stopped going. At some point in my young life, I gave up both the maths tuition and Catholicism. I traded in Descartes and Paul for Shakespeare and Sartre, and in the process, ensured that I would spend the rest of my school life being constantly on the brink of failing maths. 

As a result, I practically never set foot in that neighbourhood again. Until recently, when I was tipped off by a reliable source about a bona fide “hidden gem” that exists there in plain sight, largely unnoticed.

Taman Mayang Jaya is home to a dense concentration of auto workshops, whose staff often frequent Mayang Oasis Food Court, a central fixture of the neighbourhood. 

But nearby, Restoran Tea Time Kopitiam is another popular coffeeshop with a wide variety of stalls, opening throughout the day from six in the morning to one in the morning. 

At lunchtime, the economy rice stall is the most popular, but my tip sent me here for a quieter stall located in the far left corner of the shop: Lim Fried Oyster. 

It opens at 11am every day, and sells only three things: fried oyster omelettes (RM15), prawn omelettes (RM15), and carrot cake (RM9). 

Lim Fried Oyster’s stall is in the far corner of the kopitiam, away from the rush at the very popular ‘zhap fan’ stall.

There are a number of things that make this oyster omelette truly enjoyable in my book: first, the oysters are plump and juicy with a mildly sweet-salty flavour, rather than the occasionally overwhelmingly briny specimens found in some places. 

Second, the texture is soft, appropriately eggy, and, despite the addition of sweet potato starch for that characteristic chewiness, it never reaches the point of being gummy or gloopy. 

Third, though it isn’t as dark and aggressively singed as what might be found in Penang (my favourite is in Seng Thor Coffee Shop along Lebuh Carnavon), the balance of char, garlic and white pepper creates a rich, savoury depth of flavour without being overly salty. 

Fresh coriander and the tangy chilli sauce are the ideal condiments to give everything a lift. A well-constructed, comprehensive winner, all ends up. No notes.

In addition to oyster omelettes, shrimp omelettes and fried ‘lo bak go’ are also offered at Lim Fried Oyster, although I heavily recommend sticking to the signature dish. 

The same, unfortunately, cannot be said about the carrot cake. While it sort of passes the eye test, sporting dark caramelised edges, it is slightly sweet but mostly bland, due to a dearth of preserved radish, which is a key component in bringing crunch and flavour to the dish. Without it, the result is rather unremarkable. 

Years ago, Taman Mayang Jaya was simply a place to be endured, somewhere I associated with fluorescent kitchen lights, algebraic humiliation and sleepy Sunday drives to church. 

It turns out I had been looking at it all wrong. There is something satisfying about discovering that a place you thought you knew still has the capacity to surprise you, that all it takes is enough time and the right plate of food to rewrite an old memory. 

If nothing else, Lim Fried Oyster has given me a reason to return to a neighbourhood I once could not wait to leave.

Lim Fried Oyster Stall,

Restoran Tea Time Kopitiam

23, Jalan SS 26/4, 

Taman Mayang Jaya, Petaling Jaya.

Open daily, 11am till sold out.

*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 musings on food and occasionally self-deprecating humour.

KUALA LUMPUR, May 23 — A little trip can offer much inspiration.

Be it a short one to the neighbourhood farmer’s market, where fresh produce abounds, or a vacation to farther shores, where the foods might be less familiar (and more fermented, as you will see), new ingredients can mean new dishes for the weekend table.

These are my most recent inspirations:

A punnet of heirloom cherry tomatoes, their skins taut and sun-warm. A single ripe avocado that yields gently under the thumb.

Small jars of Japanese pickles in the refrigerator, waiting patiently for their turn on the chopping board. On the counter, a few feathery sprigs of dill stand in a glass of water, fresh from the garden this morning.

Not all of these ingredients belong to the same culinary tradition or even the same recipe book, I guess.

But who can say that they shouldn’t be paired together? There is something deeply satisfying about allowing them to meet, to allow their flavours to marry.

Heirloom cherry tomatoes. — Picture by CK Lim

This salad of avocado, heirloom tomatoes and pickles borrows freely from various worlds: the freshness of market produce, the savoury sharpness of Japanese preserved foods, and the herbaceous brightness of what was just snipped from one’s own garden.

The result is, perhaps not surprisingly, an explosion of different flavours and textures.

The tomatoes burst sweetly against the salt and tang of the pickles. Creamy avocado softens the edges.

Aromatic sesame-studded goma sauce and Japanese mayonnaise lend body to the dressing while lemon zest sharpens everything into focus.

Roughly slice the heirloom cherry tomatoes. — Picture by CK Lim

Finally the nearly forgotten sprigs of fresh dill — green, fragrant and unexpectedly the very ingredient to bind everything together.

Serve it cold, ideally not long after tossing, while the tomatoes still hold their shape and the avocado remains silky rather than fully absorbed into the dressing.

This salad, you could say, is a little farmer’s market, a little Kyoto... and absolutely full of contrast and crunch. Why not try it today?

A SALAD OF AVOCADO, HEIRLOOM TOMATOES & JAPANESE PICKLES

Ripe avocado. — Picture by CK Lim

In this salad, the highlight for me are the Japanese pickles.

The shibazuke, which hails from Kyoto, combines chopped cucumbers and eggplant that are then salted and brined together with red shiso leaves. The gari is the instantly recognisable thinly sliced pickled ginger.

Both pickles behave almost like seasoning rather than bulk ingredients. The shibazuke brings crunch and salinity; the gari contributes sweetness and warmth.

Together, they transform what might otherwise have been a simple tomato-and-avocado salad into something more layered. Something, I believe, more intriguing, their flavours more delicate.

Snip fresh dill over the salad just before serving. — Picture by CK Lim

Ingredients

1 punnet heirloom cherry tomatoes, roughly sliced

2 tablespoons shibazuke, finely chopped

2 tablespoons gari, finely chopped

1 ripe avocado, peeled, seeded and cut into cubes

2 tablespoons shoyu (Japanese soy sauce)

2 tablespoons goma (sesame seed sauce)

1 tablespoon sesame oil

1 tablespoon Japanese mayonnaise

Juice and zest of 1 lemon

Freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Fresh dill, for garnish

Method

Begin by roughly slicing the heirloom cherry tomatoes; their uneven edges and escaping juices are part of the charm here.

Finely chop the shibazuke and gari until the pickles are small enough to mingle easily with the softer ingredients rather than dominate them. Transfer everything to a large mixing bowl.

Halve the avocado, remove the seed and gently cut the flesh into cubes before adding them to the tomatoes and pickles.

The avocado should be ripe enough to yield easily but still firm enough to hold its shape once tossed.

Add the shoyu, goma sauce, sesame oil and Japanese mayonnaise, followed by the lemon juice and zest.

Toss everything together carefully but thoroughly, ensuring the creamy dressing coats every piece without turning the avocado mushy.

Finish with a generous grinding of black pepper.

Snip and scatter fresh dill over the salad just before serving. Best enjoyed immediately.

KUALA LUMPUR, May 22 — This week, I watched Stephen Colbert embark on quite the farewell tour for The Late Show, which was axed last year by CBS. 

The network called the decision “purely financial”, but it was a fairly transparent display of sycophantic, anticipatory obedience by parent company Paramount ahead of getting approval from the US Federal Communications Commission for its US$8.4 billion (RM33 billion) merger with Skydance. 

The merger would later be completed, and now, Colbert is leaving.

In a special episode titled “The Worst Of The Late Show”, he took the opportunity to look back and reminisce on some of the most bizarre, outrageous and downright ridiculous skits or gags that never made it to air for all sorts of reasons. 

But it wasn’t the “that pigeon looks just like Michael Keaton” cold open, or the spoof advert for an unconventional use for Thanksgiving gravy that Colbert sat through with a ruptured appendix, that caught my eye. 

Instead, it was the “steamed chicken” that he ate throughout the episode. 

It was obviously some New York City approximation of chicken rice, and as I watched him dip pieces of all-white chicken into the little plastic tub of dubious brown gravy, I felt even more sorry for him than before. 

This truly is the worst of The Late Show, I thought. Poor Stephen Colbert has probably never known the satisfaction of eating a truly good chicken rice for lunch while at work, and here I am taking it for granted.

PJ is full of chicken rice spots, but KL is where you find eateries dedicated solely to working people. 

Unlike the rest of the eateries in Pertama Complex, Semua House Chicken Rice is located on the second floor, among phone and clothing shops. — Picture by Ethan Lau

The closer you get to the city centre, the more lunch-only spots you’ll find, though rising costs have largely relegated them to older buildings, where the combination of a steady working crowd and cheaper rent has helped sustain them. 

On the second floor of Pertama Complex, which turns 50 this year, Semua House Chicken Rice is one such spot. 

This unassuming chicken rice spot was originally located in Semua House, another of KL’s old malls. 

When it shut for refurbishment a little over two years ago, Semua House Chicken Rice moved into Pertama Complex, taking the name of its original home with it.

Most eateries in Pertama Complex are located in the food court, which — apart from a branch of The Ship — mostly serve Malay food. 

Semua House Chicken Rice is instead located in a tiny lot up on Level 2, amidst a sea of sporting goods, mobile phone repair and local clothing stores. 

It is one of the few non-halal eateries in the general vicinity, not just the building itself, which is why, on any given weekday, there is almost always a line at lunch hour. 

And it’s not just about the offerings, which include roast pork, char siew, and both roast and poached chicken, that draw people in; it’s also the extremely friendly prices, which start from RM7 for chicken wing rice and reach up to RM14 for the triple combo of char siew, roast pork and chicken rice.

Naturally, I opted for the combo when I arrived about 10 minutes after opening. The shop was still empty, so I sauntered up to the self-service counter, placed my order and collected it together with the free bowl of soup. 

Though I’m personally partial to poached chicken, there were four roasted chickens for every quarter of poached chicken. 

The choice was clear. The oiled rice had a rich, sticky texture, the chicken was moist and succulent, the roast pork was crispy and tender, and though not as aggressively salty as I like, I’ve had much worse in some food courts around the city. 

The importance of eateries like these cannot be overstated; they are the backbone of society, keeping the average Joe fed every day. — Picture by Ethan Lau

But the real star is the char siew, which sports a subtle level of caramelisation, not quite reaching carbon-black levels, instead taking on a rich red hue. 

The flavour of Chinese rose wine comes through very strongly; a very old-school touch compared to the thicker, darker and sweeter variety that has evolved in Malaysia. 

Each piece is soft, even the lean ones, and as the takeaway queue began to build, I heard many orders for char siew. 

In 2026, paying anything less than RM15 for a tasty, filling meal in the city centre, in the comfort of an air-conditioned shop, is becoming increasingly rare. 

But there are still pockets like this where a working person can have an honest lunch without burning through their wallet, though it is unclear how long this can continue. 

Rising costs, delivery apps eating into their revenue, and the ramifications of a global conflict yet to be felt all seem determined to make small, independent businesses go the way of Colbert and The Late Show. 

Except there won’t be a farewell tour. Blink, and you’ll miss it.

Semua House Chicken Rice

Lot 2.32, Pertama Complex, 

Jalan Tuanku Abdul Rahman, 

Chow Kit, Kuala Lumpur.

Open Monday to Saturday, 11am-2.30pm

Tel: 012-357 3517

* 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 musings on food and occasionally self-deprecating humour.

PETALING JAYA, May 21 – Coffee, I have decided, is never just coffee.

Not in the Klang Valley, where cafés are often something more: places where we while away the hours, sure, but also havens that hold time in their embrace.

True, given the trying times and tightening of purse strings, even I am loathe to indulge in café-hopping, preferring the budget-friendly charms of our local kopitiams instead.

But spending time in a café isn’t always about having a meal and filling our bellies; surely they offer us something more.

These might not be hallowed halls but they are sanctuaries still; spaces where coffee meets character.

A couple of months ago, I wrote about two cafés — one in Cheras, the other in SS2, PJ — that made every inch count. That story resonated with readers somehow.

Many asked for more in the same vein, and this is me, after a fashion, acquiescing to that petition.

This time we travel from Ara Damansara to Kajang, once more drifting from one café to another. Yet again they are different in form, different in rhythm. Both circle the same idea, however — that of warmth.

One builds it. The other inherits it.

Handmade wood furnishing (left). Black and white coffee at Shan Mu PJ (right). — Picture by CK Lim

We start our journey in Ara Damansara; a growing neighbourhood, where turning off the main road leads you into quieter residential lanes.

The entrance to Shan Mu PJ is understated: old, repurposed wooden planks assembled into a door; a large piece of driftwood resting atop two boulders, a seat for customers waiting for the rest of their party; an almost bare, concrete washed wall.

Inside, that aesthetic continues. Wood anchors the room. Not polished to a gleam, but left raw and naked, a nod to the passing of time.

Handmade wood furnishing, pottery that lines the shelves, the tables and the chairs: everything is imbued with a warm, earthy tone and tenor.

This is a space that has been composed; proof that you can evoke age — years or even decades — with the appropriate design sensibility.

At the coffee counter, that intentional philosophy deepens. Led by award-winning barista Oscar Wong, the team works with a measured precision that borders on ritual. Beans rotate; expect both local roasters and international names here.

If you are unsure where to begin, the “1+1 Combo” offers a helpful introduction. One black, one white, both drawn from the same espresso. Two expressions of a single origin. 

This is not just a comparison of taste; it is a reflection, perhaps even a small recalibration of what you thought you knew about coffee.

Shan Mu’s food offerings lean towards the same warmth and light touch: restorative ochazuke, rice submerged in tea; sourdough sandwiches filled with chicken nanban or kaya and coffee infused butter.

Red bean toast (left). Pottery on the shelves at Shan Mu PJ (right). — Picture by CK Lim

And then there is the Ara Damansara exclusive (its sister café in Cheras offers a cured salmon sandwich): red bean toast.

A brioche loaf, thick-cut. Cold butter. Sweet adzuki paste.

You are meant to assemble it yourself, slicing the toast into smaller squares, spreading butter and red bean across each piece. Slowing down to do so feels purposeful.

Don’t rush. Embrace the warmth, whether in the grain of the wood, the spacing of tables or the cadence of service. This is a place that invites you, gently, to stay.

Across town in Kajang, Wooca Café stands out from their surroundings the way Shan Mu disappears into theirs.

You find this coffee shop along Medan Selera Jalan Bukit, the old food hub near the still bustling Kajang Pasar. Here the surroundings feel worn in, with older shoplots and stalls.

Which makes Wooca’s façade all the more remarkable: a bright, unmissable blue against the faded textures of the neighbourhood.

Wooca is small, which, if you remember the lesson from the earlier story, can be a boon and a blessing. A takeaway-first operation, with just enough room for a handful of seats. These are foldable camping chairs, we realise; stacked storage containers double as a table.

And yet, it works. Beautifully at that.

Wooca’s iconic blue cart serves as both workstation and a centrepiece. It can even be rolled outdoors when needed. A café that can adapt accordingly, in tune with its environment — and with time.

Wooca Café in Kajang. — Picture by CK Lim

Owner-barista Kelly Saw runs the show. A Kajang native, her path has taken her through larger coffee institutions such as Starbucks and Espresso Lab before returning here, to something smaller, closer to her roots.

The menu is familiar at first glance. Long blacks, flat whites, the expected foundations. But look closer and you find more of Wooca’s delicate beverages.

A lemonade coffee, citrus cutting through espresso, sharp and refreshing. Sour plum coffee, for something more local in character. A creamy matcha latte for a trip to Kyoto by way of Kajang.

There is little room to remain for long stretches, and yet people do, in their own way. Residents drop by to catch up, grabbing a quick coffee between errands. You can see the market-goers pass by outside, their haul from the pasar in large plastic bags.

If Shan Mu brings time to you, in their microcosm of wood and concrete, then Wooca absorbs it, all the daily activities that haven’t changed in decades.

One café is composed, intentional, measured by precision. The other is compact, adaptive, shaped by circumstance.

One invites you inward, perhaps into yourself. The other draws you outward, into the rhythms of the street.

But spend time in both, and you’ll understand both cafés are more similar than not.

At Shan Mu, the calm is not emptiness but attention — to materials, to craft, to the act of making coffee as something worth slowing down for.

At Wooca, the bustle is not disorder but continuity — a reminder that coffee, too, belongs within the flow of daily life.

Both, in their own ways, are intimate.

Lemonade coffee (left). Wooca’s iconic blue cart (right). — Picture by CK Lim

One offers the space to notice the curve of a cup, the weight of a sip, the passing of an afternoon. The other offers proximity: voices, movement, the subtle choreography of people sharing a small corner of the world.

And both, unmistakably, are chasing warmth.

At Shan Mu, it is built: carefully, deliberately, each element contributing to a sense of serenity that did not exist before the doors opened.

At Wooca, it is inherited: from the neighbourhood, from the regulars who return, from the simple fact of being present in a place that has long been lived in.

Neither is more than the other. They are simply different answers to the same question: what makes a place feel like you belong, that you are welcome there?

Perhaps the answer lies somewhere between them: in the simple truth that warmth is not one thing.

Warmth can emerge from stillness or from movement, from solitude or from companionship.

Two cafés, on opposite ends of the Klang Valley.

Matcha latte at Wooca. — Picture by CK Lim

Two ways of brewing a cup of coffee.

Two ways of brewing warmth, offering a safe space, a place, however briefly, to feel at home.

Shan Mu Café PJ

B-G-29, Taipan 1, 

Jalan PJU 1A/3J, 

Ara Damansara, PJ.

Open Tue-Fri 11am-9pm, Sat-Sun 10am-9pm, Mon closed

Phone: 010-821 8266

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

Wooca Café

B11, Medan Selera, 

Jalan Bukit, Kajang.

Open Thu-Tue 10am-4pm; Wed closed

Phone: 016-321 0028

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

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

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

KUALA LUMPUR, May 20 — Who knew that one can find fluffy, crispy-edged appam in Taman Melawati?

After all, Taman Melawati’s town centre is where you’ll find Malay food on every corner.

Lo and behold, this tiny restaurant where you find people queuing up on a Sunday morning has changed my perception.

Originally a food catering service from 2017 to 2020, it morphed into a food truck in 2021 offering sweet appam and vadai. On the side, they took orders for pani puri, murukku and gulab jamun.

The big leap occurred in March 2025 when they moved into their present space, which has won many hearts and is firmly entrenched as a neighbourhood favourite.

Tiny space. Tiny menu, big on flavour, especially the appam.

On Sunday, everyone wants their ‘appam’ fix and securing one of their indoor tables takes lots of patience (left). Look for this small eatery below the dentist for amazing ‘appams’ (right). — Pictures by Lee Khang Yi

Your appam can be ordered a la carte or as a set of two. There’s also a Sri Lankan version with lacy edges that have a slightly chewier texture,

Aside from the normal appam without any toppings, pick from a choice of brown sugar, banana, corn and egg.

Appam fans can rejoice because the pancake formed from fermented rice batter and coconut milk is served all day here.

Order the thosai, chapati, poori and idli for a light meal before turning to the appam.

Snacks like vadai and curry puffs will help ease the hunger pangs for those waiting for a table.

During peak times, be patient because they make everything from scratch, ensuring it’s fresh and served piping hot.

Banana Appam (RM5 for one, RM7 for a set of two) comes with a sprinkle of brown sugar on the soft coconut milk mound of the pancake.

As you tear open the spongy centre, you will encounter the ripe banana mingling with the rich coconut milk, which tingles your taste receptors with its sweetness and creaminess.

This appam boasts brown edges that shatter when bitten into, contrasting with the spongy centre.

The Special Appam is one of a kind, featuring a spongy centre coddling a soft-cooked egg with an oozy yolk, paired with brown sugar. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

We were curious about The Special Appam (RM9 for one, RM11 for a set of two), an interesting combination of brown sugar and egg.

The spongy centre hugs a creamy egg with its soft white and oozy golden yolk, while the sprinkle of brown sugar creates caramelised swirls.

Who can say no to such a divine pancake with that soft centre surrounded by slightly chewy edges?

Ghee Thosai is reminiscent of homemade versions, featuring a softer texture and just a whisper of clarified butter. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Generally, their thosai reminds me of homemade ones, featuring a softer texture and a light touch of ghee as seen in the Ghee Thosai (RM4).

Wrapped like a parcel, the Masala Egg Ghee Thosai (RM6.50) offers layers of flavours, with an egg cooked into the thosai and filled with lightly spiced masala potatoes.

Your Masala Egg Ghee Thosai has layers all wrapped up in a square with an egg cooked into the pancake and filled with soft, lightly spiced potatoes. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

For a stronger flavour, pair it with their Sardine Perattal (RM4), which has a rich tomato taste and shredded canned fish.

There’s Masala Tea but their Teh Tarik (RM2.50 for small) with its milky taste was the perfect way to end such a satisfying breakfast.

A cup of Teh Tarik (left) is a good way to end the meal. Sardine Perattal (right) gives a tomato punch with shredded canned fish. — Pictures by Lee Khang Yi

Raja’s Appam

36, Lorong Perak,

Taman Melawati, Kuala Lumpur.

Open: 8am to 12pm (Monday), 8am to 9pm (Tuesday to Sunday)

Tel:011-28464059

Instagram: @rajas_appam

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

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

SEMENYIH, May 19 — This might not be a sprawling banquet spread but on a rainy day, nothing beats a steaming bowl of fish ball noodles.

Specifically I am slowly savouring the signature fish ball noodles at 1368 Fish Ball Noodles in Semenyih. Here, the older shoplots still carry the unhurried charm of a small town. The shop fits right in, promising nothing more than soulful comfort.

The fish balls here are made fresh every day without preservatives, using sai dou (wolf herring) prized for its naturally springy flesh.

One bite and the texture immediately confirms the handmade process: firm yet yielding, with that unmistakable bounce that only proper handmade fish balls possess.

The bright, clean interior of the shop. — Pictures by CK Lim

Served either dry or in soup, the noodles are dependable whichever route one chooses. Ordinarily, as regular readers know, the dry version might edge ahead for its punchier flavours and slick coating of sauces.

But the weather has a way of making decisions for us. (Doesn’t it always?)

With rain drumming against the windows, the soup version felt more appropriate. The broth is clear and lightly sweet; it warms us steadily and surely.

The shop itself reflects a newer generation of kopitiams. Bright lighting, air-conditioning and spotless tiled floors replace the grease-stained nostalgia of old coffee shops. 

There are no rattling ceiling fans pushing humid air around the room, no sticky tabletops perfumed with decades of kopi spills.

Part of me still mourns those rough-edged spaces slowly disappearing from Malaysian food culture. 

Yet truth be told I perhaps appreciate the reassurance of cleanliness more so. Hygiene, after all, is hardly the enemy of good eating.

The service follows suit: brisk, efficient and surprisingly attentive. Recommendations come easily when asked, without the rehearsed enthusiasm that often accompanies trendy eateries.

‘Cham’ for a strong, creamy and sweet start. — Pictures by CK Lim

Being a noodle shop with kopitiam leanings, drinks and toast naturally enter the equation. 

We begin – as we nearly always do, creatures of routine that we are – with cups of hot cham, that deeply comforting marriage of coffee and tea.

It’s our personal, eternal question: Why choose between kopi and teh when we can have both? As with the best questions in life, this is entirely rhetorical, of course.

Strong, creamy and sweet in equal measure, we don’t mind if others might consider us boring; we rather see ourselves as consistent...  and rewarded with a sure thing.

In the same vein, we can’t not order some butter and kaya toast too. Thankfully, this was proper roti bakar rather than limp supermarket bread merely introduced to heat. 

A proper ‘roti bakar’ with visible char marks. — Pictures by CK Lim

The surface bore visible char marks, the crust brittle enough to scatter crumbs across the table with every bite.

The slab of butter had softened more than ideal, dissolving too readily into the toast, but the kaya compensated beautifully. Fragrant with pandan and coconut, sweet without becoming cloying.

But these are but fleeting distractions, if you will. We have come to 1368 for the noodles.

Choices abound: bee hoon, yellow noodles, koay teow, lou shu fan. There is little pressure to conform; one must select whichever best suits one’s palate or appetite.

Curry fish ball noodles. — Pictures by CK Lim

Beyond the classic fish ball noodles, those seeking something fierier ought not miss the curry fish ball noodles. At first glance, it appears to be the regular bowl transformed merely by the addition of scarlet curry broth.

Yet the details quickly reveal otherwise. Taupok swollen with spicy stock, spoonfuls of briny seehum, fried tofu skin drinking in every drop of curry—this is a richer, more muscular bowl altogether.

The broth clings to the lips with gentle heat before deepening into something almost velvety from coconut milk and spices. 

Truly, what’s more nourishing than a bowl of fish ball noodles? — Pictures by CK Lim

Blood cockles lend bursts of metallic sweetness while the tofu puffs collapse softly under the teeth, releasing pockets of scalding curry hidden within.

Even the fish balls seem to take on a different personality here, their sweetness sharpened against the spice. One can imagine this bowl restoring circulation to cold fingers after a storm.

More adventurous diners might gravitate towards the Special Na Zha Noodles, crowded with curry fried fish balls, radish wedges, pork skin, fried pork and intestines.

Elsewhere on the menu are curry shark meat noodles, curry lala noodles, fish maw fish ball noodles and the intriguingly named Three Kingdoms Seafood Noodles, which gathers fish paste, sliced fish and lala into one lavish bowl.

Yet for all the variations, our favourite remains their house speciality fish ball noodles.

There are the aforementioned handmade fish balls, of course. The bowl also includes slices of homemade fish cake, crisp sheets of fried tofu skin and a handful of greens, usually lettuce.

The broth carries the faint sweetness of the sea, gentle enough to drink by the spoonful. Lettuce leaves wilt just enough to retain their freshness. Steam rises steadily from the bowl, carrying the healing aromas into the cool, after-rain air.

Truly, what’s more nourishing than a bowl of fish ball noodles? Uncomplicated, restorative and deeply familiar.

Simple? Certainly. But sometimes a bowl of fish ball noodles is exactly what we need.

1368 Fish Ball Noodles 日昇永发鱼丸粉

29G, Jalan Semenyih Sentral 4, 

Semenyih, Selangor.

Open daily (except Mon closed) 7:30am-4pm

Phone: +60 13-250 0614

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

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

KUALA LUMPUR, May 18 — Adventurous eaters willing to trek into Chow Kit will discover Restoran Sunan Drajat, home to truly unforgettable sate kambing inspired by its Surabaya roots. 

It traces its origins back to the 1980s when its previous location was a stall behind a mosque. In the 1990s, they moved to their current premises. 

The eatery’s entrance is incongruously situated among a row of stalls (between Nasi Lemak Atan Heritage and Johan Bundle) along Lorong Haji Hussein 1 because it uses a side entrance for easy access to the building.

Look for this sign when you walk or drive along Lorong Haji Hussein 1. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Also note that the address and location pin on Google is incorrect; we have edited it below to reflect the correct address, based on their business registration license issued by the authorities. 

As you walk inside, you will find a hallway that opens into a dining area with a green theme on the walls, tables and even the emergency exit. 

Green is everywhere at the restaurant, a choice favoured by the owners. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Everyone is here for their Sate Kambing (RM2 per stick, minimum order of five skewers), jammed with tiny pieces of the meat, grilled over hot coals. 

The meat is surprisingly tender and easily tears from the skewer as one slowly savours the satay. Some skewers have a burnt tip, so remove it to enjoy the grilled meat. 

It is liberally doused with coarsely ground peanuts, kicap manis sauce and garnished with chopped shallots. 

A wedge of cut lime is on hand to keep the sweetness of the kicap manis sauce in check.

Two small catfish are used for the Pecel Lele that is deep fried to a crispy state. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

For your main meal, different types of pecel are served with a plate of rice and vegetables. 

The chicken and catfish are deep fried well, especially the Pecel Lele (RM9) which has crunchy fins that are brittle and incredibly edible. 

Because they selected smaller catfish, the fins are finer, making it easy to crunch down on the crispy bits. 

Even the Pecel Ayam (RM8) was good, featuring a golden crust and ample juicy meat. 

Pecel Ayam boasts a golden skin and juicy meat inside. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Surprisingly, the sambal used has a mild spiciness, featuring tomatoes instead of intensely hot chilies.

Raw vegetables like long beans and cabbage cool the tongue if one accidentally bites into a chilli. 

You see bakso in every Indonesian place but not Rawon (RM10), the almost black beef stew that uses keluak paste, on the menu. 

Rawon, a rarity in the Klang Valley, can be found here. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Tender beef pairs with the earthy broth, which is laced with a dollop of the fiery red chilli paste that provides the burn on the tongue. 

A better choice is the Gule Kambing (RM13), which offers a robust, spicy broth with meat that tears apart easily. 

Gule Kambing, as a takeaway, is a great idea, featuring a slightly spicy profile and tender meat. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Restoran Sunan Drajat

71, Jalan Haji Hussein, 

Chow Kit, Kuala Lumpur

Open daily: 9am to 9pm

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

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

KUALA LUMPUR, May 17 — When life sends me to one of the many watering holes along Changkat Bukit Bintang, whether as an 18-year-old on a tear fresh out of high school, or more recently, struggling financially at a friend’s birthday, I always let out a little sigh of resignation. 

Resigned, because I know that no matter what transpires over the evening — encounters with drunk tourists or an overeager massage parlour promoter — my dinner will be at best, “just okay”. 

Not that the area has ever truly held a reputation as a glittery destination for gourmands, but surely, somewhere amongst the countless bars, pubs, sports bars, izakayas, gastrobars — did I mention bars? — there exists a great meal. 

Lo and behold, on Jalan Mesui, where not one, not two, not three, not even four, but five izakayas stand on the same hundred metre stretch of road, the answer lies in Yakitori Izakaya Kin No Tsubo.

The restaurant is located beneath The Mesui Hotel. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Unlike its neighbours, where attractive drink promotions rule instead of compelling dishes, Kin No Tsubo prides itself on its offerings. 

Yakitori, in particular, is excellent, from juicy, succulent skewers of momo (thigh, RM7) to crunchy, snappy bonjiri (tail, RM7) and seseri (neck, RM8). 

Seasoning is a choice between shio (salt) or tare (sweet sauce); bigger, meatier pieces and crunchy, cartilage-type textures shine with a clean, salted profile, whereas the stronger flavour of offal like kimo (liver, RM6), kokoro (heart, RM6) or gingawa (outer gizzard layer, RM7) really benefit from the richer, sweeter glaze. 

One exception to this is the tsukune (meatball, RM8). A dense, firmly-packed chicken meatball, tsukune is traditionally always brushed with tare then grilled. 

Kin No Tsubo serves theirs with a dab of hot mustard for a bit of sharp contrast. 

Smaller, crunchier skewers like ‘bonjiri’ (chicken tail) and ‘seseri’ (chicken neck) benefit from the clean profile of ‘shio’ (salt) seasoning. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Not to be outdone, Kin No Tsubo does have its share of attractive drink promotions. This is Bukit Bintang, after all. 

We opted for lemon sours (an izakaya staple of shochu, soda and lemon), but beer and other highball drinks are immensely popular. 

When I walked to the restroom, I spotted an obscene number of Kakubin bottles with customer names labelled — all Japanese, unless Kenji and Shota were popular names in Malaysia decades ago — sitting outside the private room. 

A set of six lemon sours (RM115) set us up nicely for the yakitori and the fried izakaya dishes coming next. 

Apart from yakitori, kushikatsu are skewers of the deep-fried variety. Uzura katsu (deep-fried skewered quail eggs, RM8) are like mini Scotch eggs minus the sausage coating, which means the egg slips out its batter coating far too easily for my liking. 

The ‘tsukune’ is grilled with ‘tare’ and served with a bit of mustard on the side. — Picture by Ethan Lau

The result is a dry, hard-boiled quail egg, an empty shell of deep-fried batter, and a plate of thick, sweet demi-glace sauce to dip both in. 

Much better than this is the nankotsu karaage (fried chicken cartilage, RM14). I already have an affinity for nankotsu when grilled, but the crunchy bits of soft bone take on an even lighter, crisper texture when fried in a light coating of batter. 

But the best of the fried dishes we tried has to be the most unassuming of all: agedashi tofu (RM14). The staple of deep-fried cornstarch-coated tofu served in a hot tsuyu broth (dashi, sake and mirin) was made remarkable with smooth, soft tofu and an enriched broth, thickened to the consistency of gravy rather than soup. 

Topped with a sufficient amount of ponzu and bonito flakes, this is a winner every day of the week.

‘Kushikatsu’ is a different type of skewer, where the ingredients are deep-fried then skewered, like this quail egg. — Picture by Ethan Lau

By this point in the meal, I was on my last glass of lemon sour, and the restaurant had become increasingly filled with Japanese customers. 

At one point, we were the only non-Japanese table inside. 

The meal called out for a soupy, comforting finish, so we opted for oden. This is no FamilyMart variety of oden, by the way. 

I ordered satsumaage (fish cake, RM5), atsuage (fried tofu, RM5) and gyu suji (beef tendon and skirt, RM9), which were served with just a bit of the sweetish soy sauce broth. 

Deep-fried soft bone bits, with a squeeze of lemon juice. What’s not to like? — Picture by Ethan Lau

A unique feature of Kin No Tsubo’s oden is the ginger soy sauce dip that comes with an order. 

It is typical of Himeji-style oden, which hails from Hyogo prefecture, and it lends a warm, aromatic touch to the rich, sweet soy sauce. 

By the time I walked out of the restaurant, I realised something unusual had happened: I had actually eaten well in Bukit Bintang. 

Kin No Tsubo is not flashy, nor is it trying to modify the izakaya experience for local tastebuds. 

Instead, it succeeds through attention to execution, technique and detail, whether in its yakitori or oden. 

Simple and unassuming, but so, so good: Kin No Tsubo’s ‘agedashi tofu’. — Picture by Ethan Lau

In an area where drinks usually take priority over dinner, Kin No Tsubo is a rare exception — a place where the meal itself is the night out.

Yakitori Izakaya Kin No Tsubo

13, Jalan Mesui, 

Bukit Bintang, Kuala Lumpur.

Open daily, 5pm-12am. Open from 3pm on Saturday and Sunday.

Tel: 03-2110 3577

https://kinnotsuboyakitori.com/

Facebook: Yakitori Izakaya Kin No Tsubo

Instagram: @kin.no.tsubo

Kin No Tsubo serves Himeji-style ‘oden’, which is served with a ginger and soy sauce dip. — Picture by Ethan Lau

*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 musings on food and occasionally self-deprecating humour.

JOHOR BAHRU, May 16 — Stepping into Kira Dining, nestled in an unexpected corner of Johor Bahru — a car service centre, no less! — you are immediately struck by a sense of anticipation. 

There’s a deliberate playfulness to the space, shifting from wrenches to whisks, hinting at the culinary surprises that await. 

For Chef Jacob Goy Ye Han, 31, this unconventional setting is part of the restaurant’s charm. He says, “One of our biggest challenges is also what makes us unique: our location. What might initially seem unusual has become one of our strongest talking points, creating a dining atmosphere that surprises guests and sets us apart from typical restaurants.”

Chef Jacob’s journey to Kira Dining began in Bangkok, at Le Cordon Bleu Dusit. He explains, “I graduated from Le Cordon Bleu Dusit, Bangkok and have always dreamed of opening a modern dining restaurant to share my passion and culinary experiences with customers in Johor.”

The path wasn’t linear: eight years in Singapore, moving across established dining restaurants, gave him exposure to a spectrum of cuisines and styles.

Kira Dining’s Chef Jacob Goy has always dreamed of opening a modern dining restaurant. — Pictures courtesy of Kira Dining

“These experiences shaped my approach to food and hospitality,” he reflects. This year, he felt the timing was right to translate his vision into a reality.

The restaurant’s name, Kira, is more than a label. “Kira represents the spark that appears when good food meets pure craving. The mask symbolises transformation: once inside, you’re no longer just a guest — you become someone who can’t resist the flavours, textures, and imagination behind every dish,” Chef Jacob says. 

That philosophy is evident from the very first bite. For sharing, dishes like foie gras atop crisp sourdough toast with sambal onion marmalade or Hokkaido scallops paired with curry pumpkin and butter vinaigrette set the tone: luxurious yet playful, familiar yet inventive.

‘Foie gras’ (left) and Hokkaido scallops (right). — Pictures courtesy of Kira Dining

Kira Dining’s cuisine is described as modern casual, but the term barely captures the subtleties Chef Jacob brings to the table.

“Our modern casual cuisine is about creating familiar flavours in unexpected ways. I focus on balance while giving diners surprises in every dish. Instead of presenting dishes in a traditional format, I deconstruct classic dishes to create something exciting yet approachable,” he says. 

The menu reflects this philosophy: Spanish octopus with romesco and mojo verde sits alongside burrata with beef salami, confit grapes and hazelnut oil, while king fish crudo is brightened with kumquat, tobiko and seaweed. Each dish is a conversation starter.

Spanish octopus with romesco and ‘mojo verde’. — Pictures courtesy of Kira Dining

Mains continue the dialogue, layering textures and flavours in unorthodox pairings. Squid ink pasta is elevated with tiger prawn, calamari and smoked duck, while truffle pappardelle with assorted mushrooms in truffle cream demonstrates the precision and restraint that define Chef Jacob’s approach. 

Comfort meets adventure in Jamaican jerk chicken served with pilaf rice and sriracha, or in the Black Angus ribs infused with bak kut teh and paired with black garlic mash potatoes — a nod to both heritage and innovation.

Jamaican jerk chicken (left) and Black Angus ribs (right). — Pictures courtesy of Kira Dining

Diners respond enthusiastically to the way traditional Malaysian flavours have been elevated to contemporary elegance. Chef Jacob proudly shares, “Since opening just over three months ago, we have been consistently fully booked, with guests returning for both the food and evolving experience.”

‘Burrata’ with beef salami, confit grapes and hazelnut oil. — Pictures courtesy of Kira Dining

Despite the meticulous craft in the kitchen, Kira Dining thrives on spontaneity. Seasonal décor updates and daily specials inspired by seasonal ingredients ensure each visit feels fresh and dynamic.

Looking forward, Chef Jacob is keen to expand the Kira experience. A lunch menu is in development to attract daytime diners, while the front area of the restaurant will host art exhibitions, merging culinary and visual creativity. 

King fish ‘crudo’ (left) and truffle pappardelle (right). — Pictures courtesy of Kira Dining

“We are aiming to open a second outlet in a unique space that aligns with our concept,” he says, hinting at further exploration of the intersection between food, space, and imagination.

At Kira Dining, dining becomes an act of discovery. It’s a place where textures, colours and flavours converge to surprise, delight, and linger in memory — proof that culinary sparks can ignite anywhere, even in a car service centre.

Seasonal décor updates and daily specials ensure each visit feels fresh. — Pictures courtesy of Kira Dining

Kira Dining

PTD52709 B, Jalan Ros Merah 2/2, 

Taman Johor Jaya, Johor Bahru.

Open daily (except Mon closed) 12pm-10pm

Phone: 011-6768 2758

IG: https://www.instagram.com/kira.dining/

FB: https://www.facebook.com/p/KiraDining-61584666546531/

PETALING JAYA, May 15 — For a long time, I have been eyeing the postings on Pete and Dori’s Kitchen for their home cooked Indian fare. 

Dishes like mutton varuval and wild boar peratal tempted me with their thick gravies but I knew I couldn’t finish such a large portion by myself, as their orders require a minimum of 500 grams.

That’s why I was ecstatic to find they have branched out to a standalone stall inside Ming Yang Kopitiam offering their famed dishes with nasi lemak. 

Their signature dishes are served daily along with fried chicken. Occasionally, chicken varuval joins the line-up too. 

On weekends, you may get special dishes like sambal prawns or sotong. 

The basic nasi lemak (RM6) includes basmati rice lightly scented with santan, sambal with a spicy-sweet character, crunchy ikan bilis and fried peanuts. 

A perfectly cooked fried egg with an oozy yolk and crunchy slices of Japanese cucumber complete the whole dish. 

On weekends, special items like this ‘sambal sotong’ can be paired with your Nasi Lemak Ayam Goreng.

They were still tweaking their sambal when I visited and I felt version 2.0 was much better because it balanced spicy and sweet notes that uplifted and soaked into the fluffy basmati rice grains. 

It’s hard to pick between the Nasi Lemak Mutton Varuval (RM17) and the Nasi Lemak Wild Boar (RM15), so both ended up on my plate even though I knew it was an overkill of protein

Their boneless mutton, diced into pieces, was a tender bite that complemented the drier varuval with its assortment of curry leaves, dried chilies and star anise. 

For those who prefer more sauce with their nasi lemak, pick the wild boar peratal as it is served with a thicker curry redolent with spices like cinnamon, cloves and star anise.

The coffeeshop comes alive with people on weekends, probably because parking is easier then.

Their handling of the wild boar is top-notch; they have tamed the gamey smell and it was likely pressure-cooked for the right amount of time to yield tender meat without any chewy parts. 

Both dishes can also be ordered in larger portions in advance for your parties. 

On weekends, special dishes are added and this time I had the opportunity to sample their sambal sotong, made with fresh cuttlefish. 

Using fresh sotong instead of the dried brown, reconstituted version makes a world of difference in texture.

Once a rundown place next to Menara Mutiara Majestic, this coffeeshop has new owners that spruced it up and curated new stalls.

The fresh type has a slight chew that is more natural, unlike the brown dried sotong, which may use alkaline water for softening, resulting in textures ranging from too mushy to still hard and extremely chewy. 

Nasi Lemak Sambal Sotong is RM15 and available only on weekends.

Their fried chicken is made in small batches, so I got a freshly fried piece that was juicy with a thin, crispy crust. 

You can get this with their Nasi Lemak Fried Chicken for RM12, available every day.

Pete and Dori’s Kitchen Nasi Lemak

Ming Yang Kopitiam, 

19 & 21, Jalan Othman 3/14, 

PJ Old Town, Petaling Jaya.

Open daily: 8am to 2pm or until food finishes. Days off not fixed. 

Tel:016-3264184

Facebook: @pete-and-doris-kitchen

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

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

PETALING JAYA, May 14 — Nostalgia is a powerful thing. 

Whether it’s being harnessed by Don Draper to pitch the Kodak Carousel in Mad Men or warming Anton Ego’s ice-cold heart in Ratatouille, it is, in Draper’s words, “a twinge in your heart far more powerful than memory alone”. 

And food is often the vessel through which we come under the dizzying influence of nostalgia: a sight may remind us of a memory, a sound may remind us of the place, and a scent may remind us of the person. 

Put them all together in one dish? 

TianMiMi Secret is located in the Taipan Damansara 1 commercial centre in Ara Damansara — Picture by Ethan Lau

It takes us back to a time when things were better. 

Or at least, when we were happier.

It’s why we are such creatures of habit, why we return to some restaurants or cafes, sometimes even long after we stop considering them our favourites. 

It’s why restaurants so often use it as a marketing tool — à la Don Draper — to get us through the door. 

At TianMiMi Secret, a tong sui cafe and restaurant in Ara Damansara, the appeal to nostalgia isn’t exactly shoved in your face; instead, marketing copy on the walls talks about how a bowl of tong sui “carries the taste of memories, and warmth of home”. 

It’s a common angle for traditional desserts, but TianMiMi, which opened in January, doesn’t limit itself to just tong sui. 

The name is both a pun and a reference: tian mi mi is a phrase in Mandarin that means “sweet as honey”, and is the title of one of Teresa Teng’s most famous songs, while mi mi is a homophone for the Chinese word for “secret”. 

The secret? There is none. 

The presentation is rather unorthodox and healthy-food-coded, but the ‘sambal petai’ prawn is worth considering — Picture by Ethan Lau

TianMiMi prides itself on using natural, healthier ingredients, less salt, less sugar and no MSG — just the sort of thing that diners who miss “the good old days” will love, although there’s absolutely nothing wrong with good old monosodium glutamate. 

Another thing that’s a throwback directly from yesteryear: a Hainanese chicken chop (RM24.90). 

For many, particularly those from my parents’ generation — they’re both in their 60s — this classic Hainanese dish was their first taste of “Western” food. 

But I didn’t grow up with this dish. 

Would it still win me over, without the weight of nostalgia behind it?

The answer is a resounding yes. 

Here, the chicken is lightly pan-fried instead of battered and deep-fried, served with the classic accompaniments of potatoes, tomatoes and peas. 

The best thing about it is the terrific sauce: traditionally conceived with a mixture of ketchup, Worcestershire, brown gravy and onions, many versions often sit somewhere between cloyingly sweet and tasteless brown sludge. 

This is definitely not. 

Savoury and tangy, the flavour is spot-on; however, my only complaint is that I wish it had a thicker consistency for a truly optimal smothering experience.

The rest of the savoury menu includes house-made yong tau foo (RM3.80 per piece) and even a decent version of sambal petai prawn (RM25.90), but the real highlights are the chicken chop and, of course, the many tong sui on offer. 

The peanut paste has a lovely, thick consistency — Picture by Ethan Lau

When I brought my parents on one visit, they opted for their favourites, peanut paste (RM13.90) and bubur cha cha with fresh coconut milk, topped with nangka (RM12.90). 

The former came thick with a lovely nutty flavour, while the latter was laden with the natural sweetness of sweet potatoes, but both were distinctly light on sweetness. 

Part of their philosophy here is to use only wild honey and no white sugar, only a bit of brown sugar if needed. 

The result is a lighter dessert experience that doesn’t completely take over your palate and leave you bowled over, but just satisfied enough.

‘Bubur cha cha’ comes with an option to add ‘nangka’ slices at no extra charge — Picture by Ethan Lau

When I visited alone the first time, barley and ginkgo sweet soup (RM12.90) called out to me from the QR menu. 

I have a soft spot for it: every year, on the morning of the first day of Chinese New Year, my grandmother would make it for the whole family as part of a breakfast together with fried nian gao. 

When I studied abroad, that was what I missed the most about Chinese New Year with the family. 

Not the reunion dinner, not the ang pao, but the breakfast of fried nian gao and ginkgo barley. And I don’t even like eating ginkgo nuts!

The version at TianMiMi is, somewhat ironically, not as sweet. 

Ginkgo barley is a personal preference for me, one packed with sentimental value — Picture by Ethan Lau

But it still took me out of my seat and dropped me back in my grandmother’s kitchen in Ipoh, sitting under the massive recreation of da Vinci’s The Last Supper (my grandfather was a staunch Catholic) and enjoying the sweet, mildly creamy soup. 

When I left, I called my grandmother, who — and I am ashamed to admit this — I don’t speak to nearly enough. 

They Ratatouille-ed me into doing it, and for that I am grateful. 

I can’t think of a higher compliment than that.

TianMiMi Secret 甜秘密糖水铺

A-G-11A, Block A, 

Taipan Damansara, 

1, Jalan PJU 1A/3J, 

Ara Damansara, Petaling Jaya.

Open daily, 7am-9.30pm. Open till 11pm on Friday and Saturday.

Tel: 010-455 8383

Facebook: 甜秘密 Tianmimi Secret

Instagram: @tianmimisecret

* 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 musings on food and occasionally self-deprecating humour.

KUALA LUMPUR, May 13 — A man slurps his wantan mee with his chopsticks enjoying its slightly chewy texture. 

Nearby, a grandfather dotes on his granddaughter, carrying her to the food stall to show her off. 

A white-haired uncle settles down at his table with a pot of Chinese tea. He fills two cups with the brewed tea to cool as he opens his newspaper and marks each story he has read with a red pen.

Opt for a leaner cut of ‘char siu’ to be healthy, and choose the crispy roast pork with your noodles — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

That’s the scene that unfolded at this coffee shop inside Kuala Ampang when I visited; it was like watching a daily show in this part of the city.

It’s a place off my usual beat but a reader had recommended this wantan mee stall serving an almost forgotten, old-fashioned noodle taste. 

Right in front of this corner coffee shop is the wantan mee stall run by two brothers carrying on their father’s 30-year legacy. 

The first thing I noticed was each strand of the noodles being separated and their striking yellow colour. 

‘Wantans’ are good too with silky skin and a chunkier minced pork filling — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

It turns out these noodles are made with egg hence the yellow hue. 

My plate of Char Siu Wantan Mee (RM9 for small) arrives at the table, with my choice of pun fei sau (half fat, half meat) cut. 

The char siu is rather fatty but it’s tender and the layers of decadent fat are cooked through, melting in the mouth.  

The noodles had the perfect texture — not overly thin, springy with a toothsome bite — and were dressed with their homemade sauce mixture and lard. 

The egg noodles have a bright yellow colour — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

The dark brown sauce is said to combine soy sauce, dark soy sauce and oyster sauce, giving the noodles a more savoury flavour.

Most stalls omit oyster sauce; hence, that deeper taste isn’t something we’re familiar with.  

For my second visit, I ordered the Mixed Char Siu and Roast Pork Wantan Mee (RM11), going for the leaner cut for the char siu. 

The pork noodles served in this coffeeshop have a cleaner-tasting broth — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

While the lean cut was healthy, I craved a bit of fat for a richer texture.

Roast pork was also on the healthier side, featuring less fat but a crispy top. 

There’s also minced pork for those craving that old-fashioned topping. 

This coffeeshop is spruced up with newer tables and packed with regulars -- Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Even the wantans are very good here with roughly chopped meat wrapped in silky skin. 

There are various stalls scattered around the coffeeshop too and I decided to order a bowl of pork noodles minus the innards. 

It’s well cooked with fluffy mince and a cleaner-tasting broth that is sure to please the older patrons who visit the place. 

Located just next to the market, this coffeeshop offers a refuge from the big city buzz of the busy MRR2 highway outside, creating a small-town vibe. 

Located next to a market, the coffeeshop is a favourite breakfast hangout — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Restoran Sing Seong Teck Mui

No. 238, Lorong Awan 10, 

Kuala Ampang, Ampang.

Open: 8am to 2pm. Closed on Monday. 

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

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

KUALA LUMPUR, May 12 — By 7am, the streets of Taman Yulek in Cheras are already busy. Residents have risen with the sun — or earlier, as some are already returning from the pasar pagi with their morning market haul of fresh fruits, vegetables and meat.

Time for breakfast next; we hear the clatter of chopsticks and the hiss of boiling water. The low, whispered gossip and the loud banter of regulars who have claimed their usual tables. 

(I understand the practice: we too have a table we prefer at our favourite café, one that we claim with the quiet authority of habit. That, and the head barista always reserves it for us.)

Restoran Meng Shiang in Yulek, Cheras — Picture by CK Lim

Every row of shophouses has at least two or three kopitiams. Each offers another possibility, another stall making its case through aroma alone; each one suggesting it might be the place to begin the day.

With so many options, choosing just one could prove a real headache. Fortunately for us, a friend who lives in the neighbourhood had already given us her recommendation, backed by a history of excellent suggestions in the past.

And so we followed her lead to Restoran Meng Shiang, a kopitiam located along the always bustling Jalan Kaskas 2. It’s easy to spot the shop; there are two stalls operating in tandem at the entrance. One handles drinks, the other noodles.

The cooking station near the shop entrance — Picture by CK Lim

When there aren’t too many customers, when it’s early enough that one isn’t blocking foot traffic at the entrance, it’s a simple pleasure just watching the cooks at work: portions blanched, tossed, assembled with part muscle memory, part noodle choreography. 

But most people don’t stay at the cooking station for long. Orders are placed, and you move inside with purpose towards empty seats, if any still remain.

Our kopi arrives first, stronger than we had expected, brewed to a near-viscous intensity. This is extra kaw, the sort that guarantees insomnia if drunk even a minute after midday.

Extra ‘kaw kopi’ — Picture by CK Lim

Makes me wonder why we even need double espressos when good old kopitiams have been reliably plying customers with these robust cuppas since before we were even born.

Before the tiny, winged barista on my shoulder (the one with the halo, or the one with the pitchfork — I’ll leave that to your imagination) could reprimand me for my disloyal thoughts, the server approaches with our noodles.

First is the shop’s signature tai yang mian or “sun noodles”. The noodles are springy, lightly dressed in savoury soy sauce and rich rendered lard.

The signature ‘tai yang mian’ or ‘sun noodles’ — Picture by CK Lim

There are thick slabs of char siew, crispy fried wantans and a soft-boiled egg, its yolk spilling out in slow, golden rivulets that coat everything luxuriantly.

What truly elevates the dish, what makes it worth rising with the sun for, is the chilli crisp. Dry, fiery, textured with crunch and heat, it provides the punch of chilli pan mee (another noodle dish on the menu). 

Every mouthful is a delightful play between fat and fire, between salt and spice.

Our second bowl of noodles is their curry mee, as suggested by the shop’s proprietor. The Malaccan boy in me detects a broth in the style of aromatic Nyonya curry. 

Airy cubes of taupok soaking up the curry, fish balls with their gentle bounce, more fried wantans adding crunch, and again that chilli crisp for more welcome heat.

The Nyonya style curry mee — Picture by CK Lim

Squeeze fresh lime over your bowl and everything brightens. The acidity cuts through the richness; the curry feels less heavy and cloying.

Somewhere between the last sip of kopi and the final tangle of noodles, we agree that this is indeed a breakfast worth getting out of bed for — though, perhaps, not rising in unison with the sun. Better sleep means a bigger appetite, after all, no?

Restoran Meng Shiang 茗香茶餐室

3, Jalan Kaskas 2, 

Taman Cheras, KL.

Open daily (except Mon closed) 6am-3pm, 5-10pm

Phone: 018-320 1059

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

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

PETALING JAYA, May 11 — Hidden inside an office building, Thinnai Express hits differently than typical Indian eateries with its healthier, home-style approach. 

Even the look of their thali sets differs, laid out in a triangular tray and the use of thonnai, a bowl made from biodegradable dried areca leaf.

Expect a concise offering of thali meals for lunch (12pm to 3pm) and other eats like thosai, idli and bhaji available throughout the rest of the day.

Vegetarian Thali Set is wholesome, featuring three types of cooked vegetables, curd, rasam and pappadam — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Once you try the superb Podi Idly (2 pieces for RM5.90), you will return for it again and again. 

Idli may not look exciting with its plain white appearance but when prepared well, its texture is cloud-like, all thanks to a batter made from fermented soaked rice and urad dal. 

This healthy snack gets a make-over with a dusting of explosive podi, which pings your mouth with flavour. 

Curry leaf chicken is served with their Chicken Thali set and two types of vegetables — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Thinnai Express elevates their version further, using a one-of-a-kind mixture of toasted urad dal, mustard seeds and an abundance of curry leaves.

Each bite is slowly eaten, combining fluffiness with the crunch from the toasted dal and the lingering fragrance from the curry leaves. 

It really does not need the tomato chutney or dhal served with it but we suggest you also eat all of it because it's well prepared. 

Tomatoes are kept chunky, letting you enjoy their natural umami and even the dhal has am appetising, creamy texture. 

Ghee Thosai looks pale but it's crispy and good paired with a chunky tomato chutney and dhal — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Various thosai options are on the menu, such as their Ghee Thosai (RM4.90), which is pale in appearance but surprises with a crispy texture. 

Their brioche buns are an oddity on the menu but they make sense for the location, serving as a quick work bite when hunger pangs strike. 

Peanut Butter Spread Brioche Bun is a great snack-on-the-go snack, featuring a warm, toasted bun smeared with peanut butter — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Peanut Spread Brioche Bun (RM6.90) served hot was satisfying with well toasted edges, a smear of soft butter and the rich peanut butter, especially when paired with the fragrant Nattusakarai Masala Tea (RM4). 

Lunch is a more substantial affair with refillable items, which have found favour with those who work upstairs in the insurance company. 

The place gets packed during lunch hour — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

The vegetable meal is RM11.90, the chicken meal is RM16.90 and the mutton meal is RM18.90.

The spread has three types of vegetables, cooked well and not mushy blobs on the banana leaf. 

Papadum, curd, pickle and rasam are served with a mountain of rice. 

The chicken meal for that day came with a curry leaf chicken that had a mellow spiciness in each piece. 

Thinnai Express

B1, Wisma MCIS Zurich, 

Jalan Barat, 

PJS 52, Petaling Jaya.

Tel:012-4787144

Open: 8.30am to 8pm (Monday to Friday), 9am to 4pm (Saturday). Closed on Sundays. 

Instagram: @thinnai_express

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

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

PETALING JAYA, May 10 — As a neighbourhood, Section 17 is blessed with a wealth of affordable eating.

One particularly abundant stretch is the flats along Jalan 17/1A, where locals head to long-time stalls like Nasi Lemak Pak Din in the gerai makan centre on the corner, or frequent newer arrivals like Bilal Nasi Kandar, which has quickly become a favourite among the working crowd.

The rest of the street is home to a diverse mix of mostly Malay and Chinese eateries, with tomyam and ayam gepuk spots standing side by side with dai chow restaurants and kopitiams.

The proximity of Universiti Malaya student housing has also made budget-friendly Chinese options like Restoran Chuan Xiang Ke, a popular haunt for the university’s international students.

Newer arrivals in recent years have taken on a slightly different character.

A cafe with a baffling retro office concept — and equally bizarre marketing — opened on the street, alongside a tiny soft-serve shop conveniently located next to Bilal, just in case you needed any more calories in one sitting.

The shop is located between a printer and a tailor. — Picture by Ethan Lau

One of the newest additions, however, bucks that trend: Fragrant Town Restaurant, which brings classic Cantonese roast meats, with a focus on roast duck and goose, to the area.

While places serving roast meats with wantan mee and rice are dime a dozen across the Klang Valley, roast duck and goose have never been more widespread in Petaling Jaya than they are today.

Previously, your best bets were specialty spots like Sunrise or Loong Foong, but newcomers like Yat Gor Roasted Goose Noodle House and a branch of Kopitiam 7 have since entered the arena, likely driven by the recent influx of imported birds into the market.

At Fragrant Town, you can get a single portion of roast duck with oil rice (RM12.50) or springy wantan mee (RM13.50), or double down by pairing it with another protein.

The ideal combination, in my eyes, is the roast duck and roast chicken combo. — Picture by Ethan Lau

I’d recommend the roast chicken and roast duck with rice (RM14.50). The prices are not rock bottom, but you could do a lot worse in PJ, especially as gentrification sinks its teeth into every neighbourhood while we navigate an energy crisis whose full extent we still have not seen.

The defining quality of the roast duck here is its juiciness. Every piece I tried — whether from the individual portion or an à la carte order of the lower quarter (RM28) — was profoundly juicy, with tender meat dripping in savoury liquid gold seasoned with medicinal herbs.

Not every piece had shatteringly crisp skin, but there was not a single dry bite of roast duck.

The white-cut chicken isn’t life-changing, but it’s moist where it counts. — Picture by Ethan Lau

The roast chicken is similarly succulent, while the white-cut chicken (RM19 for a lower quarter) is moist and slippery in all the right ways.

The only let-downs were the roast pork and char siu, both of which were merely unremarkable.

The roast pork and ‘char siu’ isn’t bad, but it’s just alright. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Roast goose, meanwhile, is available by advance booking only, priced at RM268 for a whole bird.

Fragrant Town does not reinvent the roast meat shop, but it does serve some genuinely juicy roast duck at prices that still feel reasonable for PJ. In a neighbourhood already packed with cheap eats, that is enough to make it worth a stop.

Fragrant Town Restaurant

58, Jalan 17/1A,

Section 17, Petaling Jaya.

Open daily, 8.30am-3pm, 5.30-9pm

Tel: 016-314 9029

Facebook: Fragrant Town 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 for more musings on food and occasionally self-deprecating humour.

MELAKA, May 9 — Another morning, another kopitiam breakfast.

At Uncle Lai Kopitiam in Ayer Keroh, Melaka, our expectations are upended not because of the menu but how everything we ordered arrived at the same time!

An absolute rarity in this day and age, especially at a chain or franchise kopitiam, when your half-boiled eggs might arrive long after your toast has gotten cold.

Instead, our entire breakfast at Uncle Lai is set before us in near-perfect synchrony. Surprised? More like shocked, though happily so.

Uncle Lai Kopitiam in Ayer Keroh, Melaka. — Pictures by CK Lim

Do we begin with coffee, still hot and frothy? Or reach for toast, dragging it through soft yolk? Or go straight to something savoury, noodles cutting through the morning’s sweetness?

(Honestly, there is no prescribed order here. If you encounter the same well-timed service, our only advice: Let your appetite decide.)

Now, for Ayer Keroh residents, Uncle Lai’s reputation rests on two pillars: coffee and mee hoon kueh.

Let us begin with the coffee, specifically the grand-sounding Uncle Lai’s Signature Kopi. Dark yet creamy, built on the deep roast bitterness of traditional Hainanese beans. Ah, but also tempered with a sweetness that is almost — almost — too much. 

Dark yet creamy: Uncle Lai’s Signature Kopi. — Picture by CK Lim

This is kaw in the truest sense: pleasingly thick, robust, concentrated. True, the first sip can feel overwhelming, sugar leading the way.

But we are patient; we allow a moment for it to settle on our tongues, and take another sip. Now its bitterness begins to surface, dancing through the earlier sweetness until the cup feels more balanced. Hits the spot.

Toast, of course, is part of the equation.

Pandan Kaya Toast. — Picture by CK Lim

The Pandan Kaya Toast stays close to tradition: thin rather than thick slices, crisp at the edges and spread with fragrant kaya and chilled slabs of butter that barely hold their shape before melting into the crumb.

We dip the roti bakar into half-boiled eggs, saturating the bread with golden yolk and luscious white. A ritual repeated all over the country every morning — is it any wonder how a kopitiam breakfast is the true breakfast of champions?

Pandan Kaya Polo Bun. — Picture by CK Lim

Then there is their Pandan Kaya Polo Bun. A variation, albeit not an unnecessary one. The same kaya and butter sit within a Hong Kong-style bun, its crackled crust adding further textural interest.

And then, Uncle Lai’s true claim to fame: mee hoon kueh.

For those more familiar with pan mee, you’re in for a real treat. Mee hoon kueh is formed by hand, dough torn into uneven pieces rather than cut into symmetrical strands. 

Each piece differs; some are thin and soft, others thicker with more bite. The result is variation in every mouthful and what Malaccans look for with a gourmand’s critical eye (or do I mean tongue?): that springy, elastic chew.

Pasta maker? Not required. Uniformity? Not desired. This is irregular, imperfect, and all the better for it.

Dry Mee Hoon Kueh. — Picture by CK Lim

While there is a soup version, we always prefer Uncle Lai’s Dry Mee Hoon Kueh. The noodles are tossed in soy sauce and aromatic oils, coating each slippery fold. It’s hard to remember to stop and chew; one’s instinct is to slurp and swallow, not wasting a single drop.

For a bowl shaped by the historical city’s Peranakan heritage, go for their Laksa Mee Hoon Kueh. 

Here, the broth is rich with coconut cream and chilli, unmistakably Nyonya in character. Familiar elements such as fish balls, fishcake, hard-boiled egg, cucumber and see hum (blood cockles) are nestled among the torn pieces of dough.

Laksa Mee Hoon Kueh. — Picture by CK Lim

We both agree: this “fusion” version steals the show, the breakfast show, so to speak. It’s the best of two worlds — what tourists imagine Malaccan cuisine entails (read: Nyonya Baba dishes) and what real Malaccans enjoy on a regular basis at their neighbourhood kopitiam.

Coffee and mee hoon kueh. Toast and half-boiled eggs. These are breakfast foods that endure.

And if you’re a Malaccan, that sometimes means switching things up once in a while. A Hong Kong polo bun here, a Nyonya laksa soup there. Whatever makes sense and is the most satisfying.

Uncle Lai Kopitiam 来叔福南洋茶室

3, Lorong Setia 1, 

Taman Ayer Keroh Heights, Melaka.

Open daily (except Thu closed) 7am-3pm

Phone: 011-2682 1896

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

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

PETALING JAYA, May 8 — As a child, my introduction to mie bakso, the Indonesian dish of noodles and beef balls, was a less-than-ideal one.

To be fair, the odds were stacked against it. I was one of those kids who didn’t enjoy any kind of edible ball: fish, chicken, pork or beef, and I had not yet learned how to appreciate the strong, bitter flavour of Chinese celery, which is included to balance out the flavour of the broth.

But perhaps the biggest obstacle was the myopic view that, because this is a dish of Chinese origin, why not just eat the original?

After all, it is readily available here, and pork is no concern to me. In fact, to some, pork seems to be the point, as if a Chinese noodle dish might somehow be handicapped without it.

Maybe it’s more forgivable in a seven-year-old Chinese boy, but it is hardly a view confined to the young and naive.

It stems from a lack of curiosity about what exists beyond one’s immediate frame of reference, something that can harden like a callus over time.

But bakso is one of the most widely consumed street foods in a country of over 280 million people.

It may be derived from a Chinese noodle and meatball dish, but it has evolved into its own thing, with endless variations. To lack the curiosity to try it would be missing out, and I couldn’t have that.

The popularity of Indonesian food in Malaysia means it is possible to sample it in restaurants, stalls and hole-in-the-wall establishments around Kuala Lumpur, especially in enclaves like Chow Kit.

Warung Jakarta has taken over a space previously held by a cafe. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Further out in the suburbs of Petaling Jaya, Warung Jakarta is one such place.

After the first location opened in KL Central Walk on Jalan P. Ramlee two years ago, the second location in SS4 opened in January this year, taking over the lot from a Kuching-based cafe that had expanded over here.

The menu focuses on bakso and mie ayam, but also includes other classic Indonesian dishes like soto betawi and pecel lele.

For RM16.90, the Bakso Sapi Campur comes with four types of bakso sapi, or beef ball: halus, the fine variant that’s standard; urat, which is made with tendons and has a springy texture; goreng, which is fried; and tahu isi bakso, a piece of tofu stuffed with beef ball mixture, similar to yong tau foo.

It is a display of the different textures a manipulated ball of meat can become: some bouncy, some chewy, some spongy.

The broth is light, sweetened by fried shallots, and by now, I’ve learned not just to tolerate but to gladly embrace the bitter edge of Chinese celery.

Up there with bakso in the pantheon of ubiquitous Chinese Indonesian dishes is mie ayam, whose pale colour might remind some of Hakka mee.

‘Mie Ayam Bakso’ comes with two pieces of deep-fried beancurd skin, noodles topped with chicken mince and beef balls in soup. — Picture by Ethan Lau

But it bears little resemblance. The Mie Ayam Bakso (RM16.90) here comes with mild-tasting chicken mince that has a slightly mealy texture due to its leanness, but the springy noodles are well seasoned.

Much bolder and meatier is the Nasi Soto Betawi (RM28.90). Soto betawi is the Jakarta variant of the classic Indonesian soup and traditionally contains beef offal in a creamy milk or coconut milk soup with tomatoes and potatoes.

Here, perhaps to cater to the decidedly more middle-class tastes of the neighbourhood, large hunks of tender beef sit in a slightly tangy yet comforting broth.

Bakso may have arrived in Indonesia by way of Chinese migration, but trying to measure it against some imagined original misses the point entirely.

‘Soto Betawi’ here features tender hunks of beef in the broth. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Plenty of dishes now considered staples of Malaysian Chinese cooking have themselves changed considerably from whatever version first arrived on these shores, shaped by local tastes, available ingredients and, in many cases, the absence of pork.

Bakso feels no different. What survives is not some fixed idea of authenticity, but the instinct to adapt, which is often what keeps a dish alive in the first place.

It may have taken me longer than it should have to appreciate that, but… better late than never.

Warung Jakarta

35, Jalan SS 4C/5,

Taman Rasa Sayang,

Petaling Jaya, Selangor.

Open daily, 10am-10pm

Tel: 016-404 7058

Instagram: @warungjakarta.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 musings on food and occasionally self-deprecating humour.

SUBANG JAYA, May 6 — When it comes to your local neighbourhood coffee shop, it always pays to have a familiar face who eats there almost every week to guide you on where you should place your bets.

Away from the commercial Taipan area, these two rows of shophouses were once a desert for eateries but that has changed now, with loads of places where you can choose to sit down for a meal.

Opened since last year, Restoran Yum Cha has an impressive line-up of goodies, including kolo mee, pan mee, wantan mee, char kway teow, curry mee, chicken rice and even Chinese zhajiangmian and dumplings.

With its corner lot, the coffee shop offers an airy environment for dine-in customers. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

My friend picked two evergreen family favourites: tom yum fish head noodles and Thai braised pork leg noodles.

The fish head noodle stall offers the usual repertoire, ranging from fresh fish slices, deep fried fish and fish paste.

Customise your bowl with various broths: plain, milky, rice wine infused or the refreshing Thai tom yum.

The Tomyum Milky Fried Fish Noodles (RM15) beats all the others with its mouth watering spiciness and tanginess, making it incredibly drinkable to the last drop.

This stall uses mangrove snapper, which has moist flesh that flakes easily, in its fish head noodle. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

While the plain and milky broths are decent, even when accentuated with a liberal dose of rice wine from the plastic bottle, they lack the natural sweetness I crave in a fish head noodle bowl.

Their fish is exceptional because they take the trouble to source the freshest ingredients all the way from Klang.

Usually it’s mangrove snapper (kakap) or siakap, but occasionally it could be just the fresh catch of the day.

The mangrove snapper I tried had what I love in a good fish: smooth, moist flesh and thin skin.

Just for that, I would travel all the way here to savour the exceptional texture.

Each bowl is cooked only upon order with your choice of broth. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Even when fried, their fish retains a flaky texture that pairs well with the funky tom yum broth.

Complete your Thai adventure at the Yaowarat Khao Kha Moo stall, which sells braised pork leg with rice or noodles (RM13) plus kway chap with offal.

This stall is said to be a casual offshoot of the Royal Siam restaurant located in USJ9.

Inside the bowl, find a Thai braised pork leg with hard boiled eggs and Thai rice noodles. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

The usual pairing for this Thai favourite is rice, but try it with Thai noodles, where the rice flour strands have a slightly chewier texture.

Mix the chilli sauces on the side into your broth for an appetising tangy, spicy touch that gets your tastebuds salivating,

The braised pork hock has a soft, tender texture from long hours of cooking in a broth infused with herbs and spices.

'Char kway teow' is a popular order here and it’s moist with softer strands. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Many have talked about this place’s char kway teow too so I had to sample it for myself.

This version appeals to those who like their noodles soft just on the brink of turning mushy, resulting in a moister bite rather than one packed with wok hei.

Leave some room for dessert at Amachi’s Palagaram which is now located a few doors away from the coffeeshop where a crispy brown appam with jaggery and fragrant masala tea is the perfect after-meal chaser.

Tables and chairs are arranged in rows in this corner coffee shop. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Note that the fish head noodle and Khao Kha Moo stall is open for breakfast and lunch, while the restaurant continues till night time with a siu chow stall.

Restoran Yum Cha

2, Jalan USJ11/3J,

USJ11, Subang Jaya.

Tel: 011-35059827

Open: 6.30am to 10pm. Days off are not fixed.

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

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

PETALING JAYA, May 4 — Nasi lemak is definitely the breakfast of champions in every corner of Malaysia. 

The dish is a humble one, usually cooked at home or even offered in makeshift stalls in front of a house where a makcik or pakcik showcases their best dishes to earn some pocket money. 

It’s grown into a huge business over the years, evidenced by famous places opening all over the country and commanding long queues. 

With so much focus on the flashier places especially in the crowded social media space, small neighbourhood stalls that provide locals with their morning sustenance often don’t get the spotlight. 

A classic pairing of Nasi Lemak with Daging Rendang. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Nasi Lemak Pak Din is one of those places with 40 years of history, quietly offering its homecooked fare to residents near the flats around Jalan 17/1A, where he also resides. 

The rice is soft with a lighter santan touch, probably to cater to a diverse crowd, especially Chinese patrons who tend to avoid anything too rich for health reasons. 

Those fluffy grains are just the backdrop for the sambal, which is made by grinding dried chillies, shallots and sugar to create a version that isn’t overly chili-intense, featuring slight sweetness and a tinge of tanginess, 

For a change from rice, try the Fried Beehoon with Ayam Sambal. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

A concise menu of side dishes laid out in trays will tempt you to add more to your breakfast. 

The Ayam Rendang is different, resembling a curry with less intensity, yet one keeps eating it as the smooth, silky meat entices with the coconut rich gravy. 

On the other end of the spectrum, the Daging Rendang has more concentrated flavours from the kerisik but the meat pulls away with some resistance—a sign that it requires more time in the pot. 

End your meal with a sweet treat with ‘kuih dadar’ and ‘the tarik’. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Paru or cow’s lungs is one of those dishes that sounds scary but I’ve always liked it especially with nasi lemak. 

This version is the rarer spongy type paired with pounded chilies and delightful small bites of fluffy potatoes. 

The nasi lemak is priced according to the type of protein selected; where a choice of chicken or beef is RM8. 

For the paru dish, it’s RM7 with the nasi lemak. 

As early as 8am, expect a short queue to get your breakfast. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Like all breakfast spots, there’s an assortment of fried noodles for those seeking a change from rice. 

Their fried beehoon (RM8 with chicken) is well-prepared, featuring a savoury flavour and perfectly cooked strands that pair well with the sambal. 

I added a Sambal Chicken, which is essentially a piece of fried chicken doused with a sambal sauce that’s not too spicy. 

Supplementing your meal is an assortment of kuih for a sweet treat – which we appreciated – in the form of kuih dadar or pandan flavoured pancakes filled with grated coconut mixed with gula Melaka syrup. 

This small food court is very ‘muhibbah’ with stalls offering Chinese, Indian and Malay food. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Nasi Lemak Pak Din

Stall 2, Gerai Makan 17/1A, 

Jalan 17/1, 

Section 17, Petaling Jaya

Open: 7am to 11.30am. Closed on Friday

Tel: 011-60931914/013-6155877

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

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

PETALING JAYA, May 3 — After a particularly heavy night of drinking — for my fellow Gen Z, it’s like a coffee rave, but actually enjoyable — I always crave the soothing, restorative touch of meat in a rich broth.

What better way to address that than with bak kut teh?

I was in no mood to make the trek to Klang in my decidedly unkempt state. A friend had asked me to check out Xhin Fhong Claypot Bak Kut Teh in Sungai Way after seeing it in a video a few months back, so I decided today would be the day to try something new and closer to home.

Xhin Fhong operates out of a house, just around the corner from the more well-known Ah Sang Bak Kut Teh.

Look for the sign outside the home. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Use that as a landmark, as the stretch in front of the Sri Sakthi Easwari Temple on the same road is probably your best bet for parking.

Xhin Fhong has been in business for the last 39 years, the friendly proprietress tells me.

The place wears every second of that age, from its silver-haired regulars to the many old-fashioned quirks around the space: a newspaper clipping from 15 years ago, and hot water for tea ladled out of a huge pot of boiling water, not from a tap.

The bak kut teh is similarly old-school in taste. The broth is dark but clear, with a strong medicinal and herbal flavour, yet still well-rounded with enough savouriness.

Even when ordered with slightly fattier pieces of pork, as we did with sai kuat, there’s an added element of porky richness, but it never becomes silky or truly greasy like what one might find in Klang.

Don’t miss out on the crispy ‘yau char kwai’. — Picture by Ethan Lau

This is a bak kut teh for those who prefer a cleaner flavour profile, with an emphasis on the herbs.

Best of all, the pieces of pork are soft and tender, even the leaner cuts. Don’t miss out on the yau char kwai, which takes on the robust broth very well.

For a five-person portion, with three bowls of rice, yau char kwai and tea, the bill came to a very reasonable RM126.

What makes Xhin Fhong truly memorable isn’t how unique or old-school the bak kut teh is.

It’s the proprietress herself, warm and unfailingly friendly, chatting with me even after darting around to fulfil everyone’s orders with an unshakeable smile.

She shares that she once ran the business alongside her husband, who died 11 years ago.

The friendly proprietress does almost everything, with one assistant helping her. — Picture by Ethan Lau

She also mentions, in passing, that she used to serve her bak kut teh with shallot oil rice (yau fan), but no longer does, noting that fewer people come to eat like they used to.

In an age where algorithms and social media visibility increasingly decide where we eat, we would do well to remember that even simple interactions with those in our immediate community now come at a premium.

It is human connection, not technology, that will save us from the self-inflicted, mutually assured destruction we seem content to march towards.

What better way to do it than over a meal?

Xhin Fhong Claypot Bak Kut Teh Restaurant | 瓦煲肉骨茶 | Restoran Xhin Fhong Claypot Bak Kut Teh

557, Jalan SS 9A/2,

Sungai Way Free Trade Industrial Zone,

Petaling Jaya, Selangor.

Open Tuesday to Sunday, 8.30am-2.30pm

Tel: 012-209 9579 (Mobile), 03-7874 4154 (Home)

* 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 musings on food and occasionally self-deprecating humour.

KUALA LUMPUR, May 1 — Since Jamun opened its second location in Bangsar, I have been slowly eating my way through its vast menu. 

Their glossy menu will tempt you to dive into their selection of North and South Indian food. 

Diners here are usually families, flooding the place in big groups for a communal meal. 

Some visit the nearby temple, decked in their finery for a special occasion, seeking a more comfortable dining environment with air conditioning, and Jamun fits the bill in this area. 

For an introduction to what’s on offer, try their banana leaf rice set featuring South Indian food for RM11.90 which is available from 11am until 5pm. 

Add protein in the form of Chicken 65 which uses boneless chicken (left). Fried Bitter Gourd is cut thinly for crisps with  the crunchy bite (right) . — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

The spread includes three types of vegetables, your choice of rice (plain or Indian), various curries including crab curry, two pieces of pappadum, pickles, curd chili and rasam. 

So far, from what I have tried, they have cooked vegetables with different textures, such as deep-fried snake gourd, potatoes cooked with eggplant, and stir fried vegetables with okra, or carrot and green bean poriyal.

Apparently the crab curry is a favourite with many but I do find it has a strong taste of curry powder, which may not suit everyone’s palate.  

You can order dishes from an add-on menu with smaller portions to bulk up your set meal, like Chicken 65 for RM11.90 or Fried Bitter Gourd for RM6.90. 

For the Chicken 65, there are no pesky bones to deal with since they use boneless chicken. 

Prawn Varuval from the ‘à la carte’ menu features juicy prawns paired with a mildly spicy tomato sauce. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

What’s good about this version is that each small piece is still juicy, probably from a yogurt marinade, but I find the crust not crispy enough.  

Fried bitter gourd resembles thinly sliced, spiced chips that are nice to crunch on. 

However, because it’s prepped ahead, the texture varies, ranging from crunchy to a softer bite. 

Korma Mutton has a rich, creamy taste paired with fork tender pieces of mutton. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

For larger groups, the main menu offers bigger portions, ideal for sharing.

For instance, the Prawn Varuval on the à la carte menu costs RM30.90, compared with RM19.90 on the add-on menu, which offers a smaller portion.

The prawns are big and juicy and pair well with the tomato-based sauce that surprisingly isn’t too spicy.

Since they cover both types of Indian dishes, adventurous eaters can mix and match tandoori chicken or a rich Mutton Korma (RM30.90) with their banana leaf rice meal.  

Northern Indian set meals, featuring a choice of protein like this Keema Mutter, can be ordered for lunch. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

The highly recommended korma dish hits the spot with a rich, creamy decadence and fork tender pieces of mutton.

Even the North Indian food has a set menu for lunch, running from 11am to 5pm. 

Pick from Butter Chicken, Tandoori Chicken, Mutton Rogan Josh or Keema Mutter, priced from RM22.90 to RM26.90.

Going vegetarian after prayers at the temple? There are also meat-free options, including Paneer Tikka Masala and Palak Paneer,

The set is served with either plain naan or plain basmati rice, dhal, crackers, a refreshing cucumber carrot salad and a vegetable of the day.  

Snack on this Crispy Paper Ghee Dosa with the amazing tomato chutney. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Other naan types can also be ordered for an additional charge.

Keema Mutter Set (RM26.90) is packed with minced meat cooked with peas, which you scoop up with their fluffy naan. 

Tiffin menu covers lighter bites suited for tea time from 3pm to 7pm. 

Do order the Crispy Paper Ghee Dosa (RM8.90) for that enticing combination of crispy dosa dipped in their tomato chutney. 

Most places usually serve it with just coconut chutney but this version beautifully uses tomatoes tempered with spices for a slightly sweeter flavour. 

Poori Masala is a fun way to eat puffy deep fried bread with potato masala. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

It’s that kind of chutney, I would happily buy a bottle of to eat with everything. 

Poori Masala (RM6.90 for two pieces) is one of those items that forever fascinates me: how it puffs up in hot oil to look like a small pillow with a crisp exterior and airy insides. 

This version is classically paired with a rather substantial potato masala made from boiled potatoes cooked in spices. 

And remember to end a meal here with their Masala Tea made with fresh cow’s milk; it’s fragrant with spices and contains much-needed caffeine to keep you awake afterward. 

The fully air-conditioned eatery offers a comfortable dining space (left). Find the eatery at the corner of Lucky Garden (right). — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Jamun Restaurant

1, Persiaran Ara Kiri, 

Lucky Garden, Bangsar, 

Kuala Lumpur.

Open: 11am to 11pm. Closed on the second and fourth Monday of each month. The next date they will be closed is May 11. 

Tel: 012-9115957

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

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

PETALING JAYA, April 29 — Back in 2019 when I wrote about Kampung Chicken Wantan stall I did not think it would become the cult favourite of so many. 

The reason for this stall’s popularity is the milky broth made from chicken carcasses and pork bones. 

Together with poached kampung chicken, smooth hor fun and plump wontons, you get a winning bowl. 

That same pork bone broth is also the base for their new fish head noodles stall, Moon Fish Head Kitchen. 

It’s cleverly converted into three flavours to suit everyone’s taste buds. 

Fresh Dragon Garoupa (RM22) uses the same pork bone broth with just a touch of wine to create a comforting taste when paired with the thick-cut dragon garoupa fish.

A generous clutch of fresh coriander and strips of ginger also add to the overall flavour.

Silky smooth rice noodles, whether thin or thick, make for the ultimate slurp experience with that broth and flaky fish. 

The milky Deep Fried MaYau noodles is topped with added fish paste and the fried fish is served separately. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

For a richer taste and stronger flavour, try the Deep Fried MaYau (RM16). 

Enjoy it plain for a cleaner taste or add evaporated milk to the broth for a creamier, richer flavour.

Slices of ham choy, tomatoes, ginger, and chopped spring onions also balance the milky broth, which has a bit of rice wine added for sweetness. 

Usually, I tend to avoid deep-fried fish because it often results in a dry, thick crust with very little meat to enjoy.  

Thankfully, this place serves the fried fish separately allowing you to enjoy its fried goodness in tip top condition. 

Each piece of deep-fried fish is executed perfectly here. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

It was such a pleasure to slowly relish each perfectly cooked piece of the lightly floured fried fish, savouring the sweetness from the fine flesh,

For a punchier flavour, dip it with the mild chilli sauce fragrant with belacan.

The stall also offers Fish Paste Noodle (RM13) but I added five pieces of fish paste for RM8 to my bowl to try it out. 

Their fish paste is the softer type, likely containing few fillers, making it good for those who dislike bones or skin in their food.

Spicy Four Finger Threadfin with thick rice noodles has a mellow heat. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Cold, rainy days call for their Spicy Four Finger Threadfin (RM16) which hums with a mellow heat that warms you up.

Using threadfin fish, the fried fish has a slightly firmer texture and is as good as the mayau fish. 

Since the two stalls are side by side, you can order at the Kampung Chicken Wantan till. 

Moon Fish Head Kitchen is right next to the Kampung Chicken Wantan stall inside Section 17’s Restoran Goodview Kopitiam. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Moon Fish Head Kitchen @ Restoran Goodview Kopitiam

1091, Jalan 17/27, 

Section 17, Petaling Jaya.

Open: 7am to 2pm. Closed alternate Mondays for the month, the next closing date is May 11.

Tel: 016-9272628

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

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

KUALA LUMPUR, April 28 — Finding a cocktail bar in Kuala Lumpur has never been easier than it is today. 

In the last few years, cocktail bars of every stripe have risen to prominence in the capital. 

They can be quiet and intimate or raucous and rowdy; the drinks might lean rum-forward or revolve around cacao, and you might find yourself climbing up to a hidden shophouse speakeasy or stepping into the lift of a five-star hotel in the city centre. 

They range from the traditional to the experimental, and some have even found international recognition on lists like Asia’s 50 Best Bars.

One, maybe two decades ago, terms like “craft cocktails” and “guest shifts” were few and far between. What’s changed?

“I think when you have bars that rank in the 50 Best Bars, they kind of become tourist attractions,” says Nicholas Ng, 42, a F&B and hospitality marketing consultant and co-founder of Kuala Lumpur Cocktail Week. 

“It does two things: when people come to our country, they have a list of bars that they want to visit; and the more bars we have represented on lists like this, it drives the people who are already running bars to want to do better. When bars open now, the aim is to become a 50 Best Bar.”

There are also more practical reasons for that growth. Ng points to cost as a key one. 

The rise of cocktail bars in Kuala Lumpur has seen international recognition from lists like Asia’s 50 Best Bars, with bars such as Three X Co named No. 15 on last year’s list. — Picture by Choo Choy May

Compared to cities like Singapore, Kuala Lumpur remains relatively affordable, lowering the barrier to entry and, in theory, making it easier for people to go out.

“Imagine you’re a traveller from Hong Kong or China choosing between Malaysia and Singapore: at one place, you’re paying three times the price for half the offerings. When the culture is almost the same, this becomes a factor,” he explains. 

“Maybe five, 10 years ago, going to Singapore made a lot of sense, even for us [Malaysians]. They have such a developed bar scene with world-class bartenders. 

“But the same can be said today of KL. People are coming to KL because it’s a fraction of the price and you’re actually having the same quality, if not sometimes even better. I think the landscape has really changed to favour Malaysia right now.”

Yet even with these advantages in place, they do not automatically translate into consistent local demand. 

Lower costs and comparable quality may explain part of Kuala Lumpur’s growing profile, but they do not fully account for how people choose to spend within the city itself.

On paper, the global decline in alcohol consumption might seem like the most obvious answer, but Ng says it is not so straightforward in this context. 

“The zeitgeist right now is that people are more mindful about drinking, and they’re drinking less. It’s a global issue. If you speak to the brands, they’ll tell you people are really drinking less,” he says. “But I think Malaysia is still okay. People are choosing their drinks.”

Ng believes that Kuala Lumpur’s cocktail bar scene is uniquely positioned, with craft cocktails available at ‘a fraction of the price’, but with ‘the same quality, or even better’. — Picture by Choo Choy May

Ng also points to another shift, using Singapore as an example. “One thing that’s happening right now: the restaurants aren’t doing well, but the bars are doing okay. Why?” he explains. 

“Let’s say I have 300 dollars to spend on a weekend. If I go to a restaurant, it’s going to be 500 dollars. I go to a bar, I order some good bar snacks, some grub, a few rounds of drinks, it can stay within 300 dollars.

“People are going to bars with proper food, and you’ll see this as a trend in the next five years. Bars are going to have really good food programs,” he continues. “Because people are changing the way they spend.”

Taken together, these factors make it harder to point to a single explanation. For Ng, the question eventually narrows to something more basic about how people choose to spend in the city. 

Asked what he sees as the biggest challenge for cocktail bars in Kuala Lumpur, he is direct. “There needs to be an increase in spending. And I think there needs to be better public understanding of what craft cocktails are, for people to see the value when they’re paying a certain amount,” he explains. “Craft cocktails are an experience. You’re not here just to get drunk, right?”

What emerges, Ng suggests, is less a question of affordability or availability, and more a question of perception — of where people believe value is.

“It’s a perception thing. For a lot of people, the grass is greener on the other side,” he continues. “A lot of wealthy Malaysians are willing to spend abroad, but not here.”

“It’s a question that we should be asking ourselves: ‘Why do we seem more keen to spend money abroad than here?’ For me, when those experiences are available here, I will seek them out. 

“I don’t think of travelling to drink. Our bar scene is so strong that if I really wanted a good drink, I could go to any cocktail bar in KL and get a great martini. If you ask me, ‘Would you rather drink here, or in Hong Kong, Singapore or Bangkok — there’s no difference in terms of drink offerings now.’”

To Ng, the cocktail bar scene in Kuala Lumpur is on par with cities like Hong Kong, Singapore or Bangkok. — Picture by Choo Choy May

That perception, he suggests, is reinforced by how spending decisions are made. Ng recalls a conversation involving a luxury hotel, where rooms cost upward of RM2,000 to RM3,000 a night. “I asked them, ‘Are there clients?’ and they were like, ‘You’d be surprised’,” he says. “Locals. So there is the spend in the country. They’re willing to spend; they just need to feel the value.”

Kuala Lumpur Cocktail Week, now in its third year, started as a community project to address this perception. 

“We wanted to do something to bring more noise and build up the visibility of the Malaysian cocktail scene,” says Ng. “Some of the founding bars include Three X Co, Penrose, Bar Trigona and Reka:Bar.”

It has since evolved into a city-wide programme that brings together a wider network of cocktail bars across Kuala Lumpur over one week. 

At the centre of the program is the festival village, a large-scale gathering that runs over 10 hours on the final day and brings together “live” music, food, masterclasses, performances and drinks. 

It functions as the event’s most public-facing component, where visitors sample cocktails from participating bars alongside members of the industry and other attendees and will be at Sentul Depot this year. 

“I remember speaking to some people who came to the festival village [last year], and they’re non-drinkers, and they told me they had a really good time and learned a lot about cocktails,” Ng recalls. “They were like, ‘Why do we need to wait once a year? You guys should do this twice a year!’”

“The festival village is heavily attended by local customers, because it’s the one place where you can get all the bars in KL to be represented in one place,” he continues. 

A big part of Kuala Lumpur Cocktail Week is the festival village, where all of the participating bars in Kuala Lumpur converge for one day, offering visitors a chance to try them all in one location. — Picture courtesy of Kuala Lumpur Cocktail Week

“You can literally bar hop in one day. Of course, it’s not the full experience, but it gives the bars exposure, and for customers, it gives an introduction. Many people end up going to new bars that they’ve never been to because of the festival village.”

This year’s edition continues to include cocktail pairing dinners across participating venues, including Michelin-starred Akar Dining and Terra Dining, alongside Barkar, Bistro Lea, Topshelf and Yellow Fin Horse, among others. 

Guest shifts also feature some of Asia’s most highly ranked bars on the Asia’s 50 Best Bars list, including Seoul’s Zest (No. 2), Bangkok’s Bar Us and Dry Wave Cocktail Studio (No. 4 and No. 5), Guangzhou’s Hope and Sesame (No. 7), and Tokyo’s Bar Benfiddich (No. 9).

This year is also the debut of “Tipple Talks”, an F&B conference bringing together industry figures for panel discussions and exchange around the evolving landscape of hospitality. 

Topics include workforce evolution, the role of AI, and the growing influence of the creator economy on the future of food and beverage.

Kuala Lumpur Cocktail Week 2026 runs from April 28 to May 3. For more information and to purchase tickets, visit their official Instagram page.

Instagram: @klcwofficial

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

* Follow Ethan Lau on Instagram @eatenlau for more musings on food and mildly self-deprecating attempts at humour.

KUALA LUMPUR, April 27 — For fans of all things Peranakan, this will be a dream come true: “Nyonya Kaseh: Sulam & Santapan” will not only celebrate the heritage-rich cuisine but also spotlight the beautiful embroidered kebaya favoured by the Nyonyas. 

Organised by Peranakan chef and cookbook author Debbie Teoh, this will be a unique event as Radjaart Kebaya (IG: @radjaartkebaya) from Indonesia will be bringing their exquisite designs and expertise to create made-to-order kebayas.  

Kebaya, adorned with intricate embroidery, is usually paired with a matching sarong. 

In 2024, through a joint effort by Malaysia, Brunei, Indonesia, Singapore and Thailand, kebaya was inscribed as an intangible cultural heritage by the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation (Unesco). 

For the Nyonyas, the kebaya is a symbol of elegance which they proudly wear for social events. 

Teoh, an avid fan of Radjaart Kebaya, owns 10 pieces with embroidery that celebrate things she loves most, including her cats. 

Nyonya ladies consider the ‘kebaya’ and ‘sarong’ to be symbols of elegance and their rich heritage—Picture courtesy of Debbie Teoh.

Jojo Gouw from Radjaart Kebaya has a knack for creating delicate, brightly colorued embroidered kebayas that stand out without feeling garish. 

Because the kebayas are custom-made, Raajaart Kebaya will be on hand to take the measurements of those who want to place their orders. 

A small selection of ready-made kebayas and sarongs can also be purchased at the event. 

For dinner, expect Melaka-style Nyonya popiah featuring handmade egg skin with a yam bean filling and Melaka-style Nyonya Laksa among the many delicious dishes that evening.

Teoh, whose mother is from Melaka, is skilled at making Melaka-style Nyonya dishes for her catering business and many of these will be served.

One of Debbie Teoh’s signature offerings is the ‘kuih seri muka’ with its soft, fragrant pandan custard and glutinous rice—Picture by Choo Choy May

There will also be an assortment of sweet and savoury handmade kuih, another specialty of Teoh’s. 

Her signature kuih like seri muka with its creamy pandan custard paired with glutinous rice and kuih angku, which features soft skin and mung bean paste, will also be available.  

Limited seats are available at RM388 per person. So contact 012-220 0537 to make reservations now; full payment is required to secure your seats.

‘Kuih angku’ is another of Teoh’s signature items with its soft skin combined with mung bean paste—Picture by Choo Choy May

Nyonya Kaseh: Sulam & Santapan 

Intermark KL,  

348, Jalan Tun Razak, 

Kuala Lumpur.

Date: May 16 (Saturday) from 7.30pm onwards

KUALA LUMPUR, April 27 — Crispy skin like a prawn cracker makes this roast pork stand out. That’s not all. 

There’s crystal char siu with a thin grilled crust and tender meat. Even their roast chicken with its brown skin is juicy and appetising. 

That’s what you get at this roadside shack that opened in Kepong last year.

The master behind these superb roasted meats is a chef known as “Gao Lao Wah,” a nod towards his stature since the nickname literally translates to “tall guy”. 

On the eatery’s wall, his story recounts a life spent learning the craft of roast meats at Tai Thong Restaurant and even a stint with Ah Soon Kor (Wong Ling Soon), regarded as one of the great Chinese masters who once operated Chef Rasa Sayang Restaurant in Imbi. 

Schooled in the art of siu mei (roast meats), he upholds his mentors’ call to use the freshest ingredients to create good roast meats. 

The à la carte portion of roast pork is a thicker chunky cut, similar to what’s served in posh Chinese restaurants. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Every day, there’s a variety of chicken (boiled and roasted), roast pork and char siu. Roast goose is also available by order.  

Even though they open early in the morning, swing by around 11am to catch the roasted meats hot from the oven. 

To put prices in perspective: a plate of rice paired with a roasted or boiled chicken wing can cost as low as RM5, while the usual single pairing of char siu or roast pork with rice will set you back RM9.50. 

Double meat combinations range from RM9.50 to RM11, depending on the chicken part.

The ultimate platter is the triple combination of roasted chicken drumstick, char siu and roast pork that can cost up to RM15.

When curating these sets, eateries usually pick the choice cuts for the roasted meats ordered à la carte rather than for these rice combinations. 

Roast pork has a crispy skin like a prawn cracker (left). Chilli crisp is served with the noodles, which are super spicy (right). — Pictures by Lee Khang Yi

To my surprise, this combination was superb: juicy chicken with a fragrant skin, a decent-sized cut of tender char siu with just a thin, not too sweet crust and even the roast pork lived up to its promised “prawn cracker” crispiness. 

Of course, the roast pork is not cut as thickly as the à la carte strip of roast pork (RM20). 

Those thick, square-looking pieces of roast pork reminded me of the trim cuts usually served in a proper restaurant even though they probably didn’t have time to place them perfectly during the lunch rush. 

A word also about their rice: it looks plain but has a very light flavour and the plump, separate grains were the perfect backdrop for the superb roast meats.  

The chilli sauce is decent, but with such well-prepared meats, you should relish their flavour rather than burn your tongue with spiciness. 

Springy HK style bamboo noodles is served with ‘char siu’ and a bowl of wontons. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Noodle lovers can opt for their Hong Kong style bamboo noodles with thin, springy strands. 

Char siu wonton noodles (RM9.50) is the best choice as it comes with their coveted wontons.

You will notice how big these wontons are; they hide juicy prawns and just a smidgeon of minced pork, making each bite satisfying.

Their noodles arrive swimming in a pool of sauce — it looks like they are drowning — but once you mix it all up, the sauce perfectly coats the thin strands. 

The sauce is darker and has a stronger taste of lard, making it a dish that will satisfy those seeking deeper flavours. 

It also comes with a chili crisp that has a lingering heat, hitting the back of your tongue with its spiciness. 

‘Wontons’ are superb with whole prawns and minced pork. — Pictures by Lee Khang Yi

The char siu is cut into thin slices, with a half fat and half meat cut (pun fei sau). 

I found the top of the meat tender, but the bottom part was definitely harder to bite through, taking away from the enjoyment of the roast meat. 

It’s a complete opposite of the char siu I had with my platter, which was juicy and beautifully charred. 

Perhaps it’s best to enjoy it with the rice combination instead, right when it emerges from the oven. 

The place gets crowded during lunch time but service is efficient. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

The eatery gets crowded during lunchtime, but the food and service are efficient.

On the storyboard plastered on the inside wall, the eatery is also known as Nan Yang Chicken Rice, which is what many people refer to their other outlet in Setapak Indah. 

The older restaurant also features the name, Gao Lao Hwa, which uses a different spelling but the same colours, and just like this one it has a wide fanbase for its roasted meats. 

It may just be a roadside stall but this place definitely deserves multiple visits for their roast meats. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Restoran Gao Lao Wah

4, Jalan Burung Berbarau, 

Taman Bukit Maluri, 

Kepong, Kuala Lumpur.

Open: 6:30am to 3pm Closed on Monday. 

Tel: 012-3228897

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

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

KUALA LUMPUR, April 26 — Deep inside a cluster of flats in Taman Jinjang Baru lies the unassuming Kedai Kopi Soon Teik. 

For over 30 years, it has served a short, simple list of offerings — curry mee, prawn mee, plain soup and dry noodles — and its unique signature: mushroom sauce and curry chee cheong fun. 

This isn’t a choice between the two, but a distinct third creation, like the yuen yeung of chee cheong fun, marrying Ipoh-style mushroom sauce with KL-style curry into one saucy symphony.

The combination was the founder’s calling card. Today, Soon Teik is run by the second generation of the family, notably the son, who is younger than the business itself and took over the reins after his father died. 

Heavily obscured from view along the main road, it isn’t the sort of buzzy, eye-catching shop people wander into. 

Instead, it is sustained by regulars — a mix of those who live and work nearby — who seek Soon Teik out, in spite of its stale atmosphere, for its singular chee cheong fun.

Lean pork strips in the mushroom sauce make for a good contrast against the spongy pork rind of the curry. — Picture by Ethan Lau

For RM9.50, the chee cheong fun comes topped with pork rind and tofu pok, and is generously garnished with fried shallots. 

It sits in a pool of exceedingly pale curry, marbled with the thicker mushroom sauce, while strips of lean pork add a more substantial bite.

It is quite unlike any plate of chee cheong fun I’ve had before. The curry is mild — very mild — with just the slightest hint of sweetness, while the mushroom sauce carries a much-needed earthy savouriness. 

The result is a blend of sweet and savoury that’s satisfying without being cloying; I ended up ordering a second portion to share with my father.

Even with a young man at the helm, the setting at Soon Teik feels worn, almost forgotten. 

The business is now run by the second generation of the family. — Picture by Ethan Lau

When I first walked in, the air felt stale and the space tired. But as I watched regulars come by for their fix, I realised it wasn’t neglect so much as stillness I felt. It was a calm and steady rhythm of routine.

It has served its purpose, day in and day out, feeding a stream of regulars who return not for novelty, but for something familiar and dependable. 

Now in the hands of the next generation, it carries on much as it always has.

The best way to get to Kedai Kopi Soon Teik is to use your navigation app of choice and head to Thye Seng Plumbing Suppliers in Taman Jinjang Baru. 

Look to park somewhere along that same street. Once there, follow the footpath directly across from Thye Seng that leads into the flats; keep going straight until you reach the first block, upon which you will come across a blue sign for Kim Tat Construction. Soon Teik will be on your left.

The sign is admittedly pretty small. Squint if you have to. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Kedai Kopi Soon Teik

7-0-2, Jalan 9/32, 

Taman Jinjang Baru, 

Kuala Lumpur.

Open daily, 7am-3pm. Closed on Fridays.

Tel: 018-327 6114

Facebook: 顺德茶室

* 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 musings on food and occasionally self-deprecating humour.

SUBANG JAYA, April 24 — If you’ve ever been curious about what it might be like to eat banquet-style Cantonese dishes beneath a pickleball court, look no further. 

Even if you’ve never had that oddly specific thought, Restoran Sfeng in USJ 25 now grants that possibility. 

Located in the far-off depths of Subang Jaya that border Shah Alam — about five to 10 minutes from both Main Place and One City — the restaurant is the only other tenant in a mixed-use development still under completion, aside from the aptly named “Dink Avenue.”

The proliferation of restaurant brands from China in the Klang Valley is such old news at this point that it would be truly newsworthy, frankly, if it stopped altogether. 

Yet we, the voracious Malaysian public, continue to lap it up. 

‘Bawang’ roast chicken is another signature at Restoran Sfeng. — Picture by Ethan Lau 

And it’s not just the big players; small, relatively unknown names like Sfeng have been steadily expanding their footprint beyond the city proper. 

The restaurant states that it has existed since 1995 in Guangzhou, but I couldn’t find anything to verify the claim, even after searching the Mandarin name 顺峰 (shun feng), from which its decidedly succinct name comes.

But unlike the dozens upon dozens of Sichuan and Hunan restaurants, Sfeng offers something much closer to home: Cantonese cuisine. 

Despite what the proliferation of hotpot joints across Kuala Lumpur may suggest, Cantonese roasted meats and banquet dishes were the first to capture our hearts and minds.

These pan-fried, hand-beaten cuttlefish cakes were sweet and springy. — Picture by Ethan Lau 

So of course, the first thing we tried was Sfeng’s signature offering: roast goose (RM148 for half). 

While geese used to be something of a rarity — truly fat, plump specimens were hard to come by — many now fly in from the same country of origin as the restaurants serving them. 

And this was a truly fat specimen, with plenty of thin, crisp-as-glass skin. But once the globs of fat and the last of the rich, savoury roasting juices had dribbled down my chin, I was left with meat that was quite tough and, dare I say, dry. 

It was not an ideal start to the meal, particularly for a dish the restaurant prides itself on. 

Salt-baked in name only, the salt-and-pepper tiger prawns were excellent. — Picture by Ethan Lau 

Thankfully, the other signature item — bawang roast chicken (RM68 for one) — made up for it, with juicy flesh, crisp skin, and a slightly spicy dipping salt.

Aside from the roasted meats, banquet dishes form the bulk of Sfeng’s menu, even though the restaurant’s interior feels more like one long prefabricated room than a lavish banquet hall. 

Shunde pan-fried hand-beaten cuttlefish cakes (RM28) were light, bouncy patties that are best enjoyed on their own to fully appreciate their delicate sweetness. 

Equally moreish, the salt-baked tiger prawns (RM58) were crispy, salted to the hilt and an absolute delight to wolf down with rice. 

It may look ordinary, but the braised tofu in abalone sauce is much more than meets the eye. — Picture by Ethan Lau 

Ignore the English description on the menu, though — this is very clearly a classic Cantonese-style salt-and-pepper wok-fried dish.

But the two contenders for dish of the night came from opposite ends of the spectrum. 

First, a rather run-of-the-mill-looking braised tofu in abalone sauce (RM38), which proved deceptively good, with incredibly smooth tofu and a thick, robust abalone sauce. 

Then, finally, a dish that both looked and tasted like it belonged in a banquet: Maggi-style savoury pork (RM58).

The Maggi-style savoury pork is the kind of intricate, elaborate dish that’s fit for a banquet. — Picture by Ethan Lau 

A strange name, considering the thin wafers of heavily marbled pork belly were coated in a sweet, sticky sauce. 

They were presented like Peking duck, meant to be enjoyed in a thin pancake, revealing a brittle, almost caramelised texture reminiscent of hard candy. 

This dish was a clear winner, though it ended up being so sweet that I couldn’t quite place the connection to Maggi. Maybe it’s a rogue bit of product placement — these days, I wouldn’t be surprised.

Look for the sign; there’s literally no other restaurant sign in this area, so it shouldn’t be difficult. — Picture by Ethan Lau 

Restoran Sfeng Sdn Bhd 顺峰壹號

1, Jalan USJ 25, 

Jalan Makmur, 

Subang Jaya, Selangor.

Open daily, 11am-3pm, 5-10pm

Facebook: 順峰壹号特色廣州菜

Instagram: @shunfengno.1

* 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 musings on food and occasionally self-deprecating humour.

KUALA LUMPUR, April 22 — You would have been hiding under a rock, if you hadn’t noticed that the Klang Valley is having a Korean food moment. 

Perhaps it’s not so noticeable since it creeps up year by year as more Korean barbecue joints pop up. 

As natives from Mainland China expand their footprint into Malaysia at almost every corner (mee tarik, anyone?), Koreans seem to be neck and neck in their push for supremacy in the F&B business. 

Once it hits the table, mix the egg yolk with the rice to combine everything inside the stone bowl. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

While their numbers aren’t as high, the Korean approach casts a wider net for diners’ appetites fuelled by an endless love for K-pop and K-drama that transcends all ages. 

Nowadays, Korean staples like fried chicken or jjajangmyeon have been sidelined by exciting new concepts from established brands in Korea and Singapore, such as exploring how many flavours can come from healthy samgyetang or even a variety of pressure cooker dishes. 

Junghee with its Korean fusion cuisine label that has won over Koreans with over 20 branches, is the latest to join the battle for our stomach space. 

Bracken Fern Cream Noodles combines bracken fern, perilla seeds and seaweed with ‘sujebi’ for a fusion dish. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Housed inside the ever hip The Campus, Junghee is the stylish Korean idol, standing up against the ahjummas and ahjussis who favour gamjantang (pork bone stew) or smoky Korean barbecue. 

One can easily dine solo here because the pasta and rice dishes come in individual portions, a vast difference from the huge portions usually found in Korean places that require sharing among friends or family. 

The Korean influence isn’t loud as not every dish includes fiery gochujang (red chilli paste), however, you may find perilla, doenjang (soybean paste), bracken fern in a few dishes.

Once everything is mixed, you can spy the ‘sujebi’ with the fragrant creamy sauce dotted with perilla seeds. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Even their banchan of pickled garlic stems and a subtle, pale looking kimchi, refreshes your palate rather than leaving your tongue with a burning sensation. 

Kick off your introduction to Korean fusion with Wagyu Beef Kimchi Fried Hot Pot Rice (RM37), one of the most recognisable dishes on the menu.

Who can miss that kitsch cow, fashioned from Wagyu beef yukhoe or their version of beef tartare, which made our phones happy as we tried to capture every angle of its cuteness?

Shrimp & Potato Pancake is that crispy snack featuring flaky potato shreds, prawns dusted with red chili powder, and grated cheese. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Housed inside a flaming hot stone bowl, mix it up just like bibimbap, combining the chopped raw beef, egg yolk and kimchi fried rice. 

Leave it for a short time and the residual heat from the stone bowl leaves scorched marks on your rice called nurungjin, which infuses the whole dish with a layer of smokiness. 

The kimchi’s presence in the dish is very subtle, leaving the beef and crust to do the heavy lifting to win your favour. 

Sweet Pumpkin Espuma Bingsu is an airy, cold treat that isn’t too sweet. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Bracken Fern Cream Noodles (RM40) sounds ordinary but its main element is the hand torn sujebi. 

That pulled dough is silky with a slight chew, working well with the thick creamy sauce enlivened by perilla seeds and roasted seaweed. 

There’s just a touch of gochugaru (red chili powder), which splashes red into the pale looking bowl, barely making its heat noticeable. 

Pine Nut Tofu Tiramisu Parfait hides an unusual flavour pairing with layers of tofu, pine nuts, mascarpone cream, and ladyfingers soaked in coffee. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Though it may not look like much, the whole combination made us reach for more even when our stomachs were full. 

Portion-wise, we felt this was good enough to share between two, especially if you want to order their Shrimp & Potato Pancake (RM33).

Gamja-jeon or potato pancake is a personal favourite of mine, featuring crisp, fluffy potatoes and this version is skillfully prepared with minimal oil. 

Dine in modern surroundings at Junghee at one corner of The Campus. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Juicy prawns pop up between the shredded potatoes, adding a hit of sweetness to the crunchy shreds, which are also dusted with gochugaru and grated cheese. 

The fun part comes at the end which most diners tend to skip because Korean desserts are usually an afterthought.

Playing on our love for bingsu with its impossibly fine milky shaved ice, the Sweet Pumpkin Espuma Bingsu (RM24) was divine with its cloud-like espuma and yes, it wasn’t too sweet. 

They had run out of the roasted pumpkin, but it didn’t matter because the espuma drizzled with pumpkin syrup, when paired with the super fine shaved ice, was sufficient to clear our palates.

Don’t miss the Pine Nut Tofu Tiramisu Parfait (RM24) either. 

Beneath the matcha, you will discover unconventional layers of ladyfingers soaked in coffee and cinnamon, along with tofu, pine nuts and mascarpone cream. 

Junghee Korean Fusion Cuisine

G33, The Campus, 

Lot 7706, Jalan Kolam Air Lama, 

Ampang.

Tel: 011-16557260

Open: 11am to 10pm, last order is 9pm

Instagram: @junghee.my

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

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

SEMENYIH, April 21 — There’s something particularly satisfying about pork noodles in a Hainanese kopitiam. Especially when enjoyed in the soft, half-light of morning, before the world has fully woken. 

The shop hums with the familiar rhythm of the day: the soft tap of spoons against bowls, the low murmur of regulars settling in, and the steam rising from pots that have been slowly simmering for hours. 

Sure, it can be a noisy, bustling environment. Oh, very much so. But it can also feel like a rare moment of stillness, more soothing than we realise sometimes.

The same can be said for a decent bowl of pork noodles. To be clear, the dish itself is simple enough: noodles, pork in various forms, a broth that’s built on patience.

Yet, there’s a completeness, a balanced roundness to it that keeps us coming back. We cannot resist.

Leng Leng Pork Noodles in Semenyih. — Picture by CK Lim    

But even the most dependable breakfast can lose its appeal over time. (As with everything in life, if we are being honest.)

Which raises the question: How can a dish like pork noodles be gently reinvented without losing its essence? Should one even try?

At Leng Leng Pork Noodles in Semenyih, the answer is found in yet another question: Who says you can’t have it both ways?

Perhaps this refusal to settle for binary solutions lies in the laidback nature of the town. The pace here is unhurried; expect low-rise buildings and shopfronts that open one by one. 

Customers enjoying their bowls of pork noodles. — Picture by CK Lim    

Mornings here are slow, with breakfast a humble ritual practised daily by factory workers and retirees alike. We relish this calm and follow their lead, letting the day unfold without haste. 

Leng Leng fits seamlessly into this small-town routine, serving different versions of pork noodles that still respect tradition but offer enough nuance to shake things up... just a tad.

First, we must have our coffee. (Regular readers might be bored to tears by my caffeinated custom; I would apologise but for my sheer pleasure in recounting my morning pick-me-up.)

Cups of Hainanese ‘kopi’. — Picture by CK Lim    

Two cups of Hainanese kopi sit side by side, one for each of us. Tiny bubbles on their caramel surfaces gleam mischievously. The first sip is bold and sweet; the second — ah, well, that must wait for our toast to arrive.

Leng Leng offers the usual butter and kaya toast, of course. But our server points out a second version that is, for the lack of a better description, “double butter” kaya toast.

Allow me to explain: The bread is generously buttered before it hits the grill (rather than after), allowing the butter to seep deep into the crumb.

Once the toast is ready, now comes the kaya, spread liberally. Finally a cool slab of butter is nestled between the slices — hence the “double butter” effect.

The ‘double butter kaya toast’. — Picture by CK Lim    

Each bite is a pleasing contrast of warmth and coolness, of butter absorbed and butter intact, held together by the sweet richness of kaya. Savoured with further sips of the kopi, this is a perfect enough little breakfast, one that absolutely hits the spot.

But would you really patronise a shop specialising in pork noodles without partaking in their signature dish? It would be sacrilege to even consider that, truly.

We begin with their signature pork noodles, the basic bowl so to speak. Or, to be precise, two bowls as we always go for the dry version.

The dry noodles are coated in a dark, savoury sauce that clings to each strand. Straightforward and satisfyingly slurp-worthy.

Leng Leng’s signature pork noodles. — Picture by CK Lim    

The soup follows, cloudy rather than clear and all the more flavourful for that. Slices of pork float in the broth; minced pork forms little clusters; tender pieces of liver add a mineral depth.

A well executed rendition and reason enough to visit Leng Leng.

But hang on, the shop’s claim to fame lies in the subtle tweaks they make to the original. The most noticeable variation is the tomato version, which introduces a tangy twist.

The slurp-worthy dry noodles (left). Tender pork liver (right). — Picture by CK Lim    

The dry noodles remain much the same, savoury and familiar, but the soup tells a different story. Its reddish hue hints at tomatoes, whether from paste or slow-cooking, and the flavour is brighter, lifted by a gentle acidity.

As a result, the soup feels lighter, fresher. This is one bowl you can imagine repeating — even during the same visit!

Leng Leng also does a tomyam version as well as pork noodles with its umami levels amped up with seaweed. An excuse to return to try these bowls, yes?

Try the tomato pork noodles for a tangy twist. — Picture by CK Lim    

Leng Leng Pork Noodles

16-G, Jalan Semenyih Sentral 4, 

Taman Semenyih Sentral, 

Semenyih.

Open Mon-Fri 8am-8pm, Sat-Sun 8am-3pm

Phone: 012-384 7336

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

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

KUALA LUMPUR, April 20 — When I was young, my aunts and mother would tell me, “A chicken should taste like a chicken.”

It sounded strange, especially to my young self, as isn’t every chicken meant to taste like chicken? If not, I wondered what else it would taste like. 

As I grew up and my palate slowly refined over the years, I finally understood what the older generation meant. 

The lower quarter portion of the chicken pairs best with the fragrant oil rice. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Nowadays, chicken is rarely reared naturally but instead, our supply comes from industrialised farms focused on rapid growth to maximise profit. 

Even the breeds farmed are selected to produce smooth and soft chicken lacking that meaty flavor. 

That compromise in the F&B industry involved injecting flavour by drowning the poached chicken in a mix of soy sauce and sesame oil, pairing it with a pungent ginger sauce or perhaps topping it with fried garlic. 

The corn fed, free range chicken is from a farm based in Ipoh and weighs around two kilograms. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

That au naturel taste of the chicken was lost, unless you were gifted a hand reared chicken from a kind friend or relative. 

Occasionally, restaurants would unveil special breeds of chicken with the promise of superior flavour.

This restaurant in Cheras, which has its own farm in Ipoh, offers the coveted Qingyuan breed of chicken which was famously served at a banquet for US President Richard Nixon during his 1972 visit to China. 

A bowl of Kai Si Hor Fun is full of chicken and prawn flavour. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Each chicken, weighing roughly two kilograms, is said to be corn fed and allowed to roam freely. 

Under their skilled hands, some parts of the chicken, particularly around the drumstick area, have the coveted gelatinous fat under the skin, resulting in a silkier bite.

The meat has more bite and can be rather lean but the flavour is definitely there. 

Roast Pork is also on the menu, featuring a higher ratio of fat to meat. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Since the chicken isn’t very large, it may have less meat; therefore, a half portion will comfortably satisfy two diners. 

Here, the chicken sits in a fragrant soy sauce mixed with oil, complementing the chicken rather than drowning it out.

I prefer just eating it on its own to relish the flavour, but the leaner breast meat needed a dab of their ginger paste or soy sauce. 

Crunchy, stubby Ipoh sourced bean sprouts can be ordered on the side to accompany your chicken rice. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

The flavour seems concentrated in the skin, chewing it releases all those precious oils to flood your mouth. 

A whole chicken is RM70, a half portion is RM37, the lower quarter is RM23, and the upper quarter is RM16. 

There’s also a chance to buy uncooked chicken, allowing you to cook it at home to suit your preferences. A whole chicken weighing approximately two kilograms is priced at RM50. 

Fragrant ginger paste is good with the leaner parts of the chicken (left). Thick blended chilli sauce gives a mild heat to your meal (right). — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Pair the chicken with a plate of their oil rice (RM2.50), where separate light brown grains are fragrant with chicken oil rather than the artificial yellow from margarine. 

Alternatively, you can opt for a bowl of hor fun noodles (RM4) with the chicken and crunchy, stubby Ipoh style bean sprouts (RM10 for a small portion). 

There’s also Kai Si Hor Fun (RM10), a rich bowl of smooth hor fun with chicken broth laced with crustacean oil, shredded chicken and poached prawns. 

As lunch approaches, the restaurant gets many diners who enjoy the chicken rice (left). Look for the restaurant next to Caring Pharmacy inside Taman Cheras (right). — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

They also serve roast pork (RM13 for a small portion) for those who aren’t chicken fans but the pork has a larger ratio of fat to meat, making it a very sinful meal.

Chicken rice is offered during the day while the night session features a menu of Sang Har Meen and Claypot Butter Lou Shue Fun. 

If you wish to order the chicken, contact the owners to ensure you’re not disappointed. 

Wong Kee Chicken Rice @ Restoran MIssokimissok

28, Jalan Kaskas 3, 

Taman Cheras, Kuala Lumpur.

Tel: 016-6052525 (Alice) and 016-5514131 (Ah Wah)

Open: 9am to 2pm, 3pm to 10pm

Closed on the first and fifteenth days of the Chinese lunar month

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

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

KUALA LUMPUR, Apr 18 — On a competition floor thousands of miles from home, beneath unforgiving lights and the quiet scrutiny of judges, Jacky Chang of Afloat Coffee Roaster stood composed — cup in hand, months of discipline distilled into a few fleeting minutes.

It was the final of the World Latte Art Championship 2026, held on April 12 in San Diego, USA. When it was over, Chang claimed 1st Runner-Up — a landmark achievement that squarely places Malaysia on the global coffee stage.

But what did it take to get there?

“I prepared for this competition over seven months,” Chang says. “Everything — from design composition to my script and overall presentation — was carefully planned with clear monthly goals.”

Chang’s winning latte art. — Picture courtesy of Loo Choy Leng

The structure was deliberate. The first month, a single design. By the fourth, words began to take shape alongside visuals.

Days were split with precision: work in the mornings, practice at night. The script had to be refined, over and over again.

“I was fortunate that Afloat gradually freed up more of my time as the competition approached, allowing me to focus on training,” he adds. “At one point, I even had a full month off to dedicate entirely to practise.”

What emerges from his account is not romanticism, but repetition. Not the idealised image of a barista but a competitor fighting for incremental gains.

“Throughout the journey, we refined even the smallest details. It was tough, but my mindset remained clear: break through, stay focused, and never give up.”

A strong team: Chang supported by his manager Loo Choy Leng and his coach Ryan Liew. — Picture courtesy of Loo Choy Leng

Behind Chang was a tightly knit team: his manager Loo Choy Leng, co-founder of Afloat Coffee Roaster, and his coach Ryan Liew — Malaysia Latte Art Champion in 2022 and 2023, and fourth-place finisher at the World Latte Art Championship 2023.

Even with this formidable support system, however, Chang’s journey was hardly free from struggles. Loo observed both the visible progress and the quieter internal battles.

“From our perspective, Jacky consistently pushed boundaries by increasing the technical difficulty of his designs, making each cup more complex,” she says.

Technical ambition, though, brings its own challenges. The more complex the routine became, the more doubts arose.

“Mentally, he sometimes struggled with overthinking, whether in decisions about the script, patterns or execution,” Loo explains. “As his mentor, I had to know when to step in with feedback while also helping him manage his emotions.”

Chang’s preliminary round latte art was a ferocious sabretooth tiger; for the finals, he showcased three animals: a gorilla and a mammoth for the free pour lattes, and an ape for the free pour macchiato.

Visualisation of Chang’s latte art. — Picture courtesy of Loo Choy Leng

The real breakthrough came not in the cup though, but in the mind. This shift came from seeing designs as static drawings to understanding them as spatial, living forms.

“One key breakthrough was translating flat sketches into a three-dimensional vision. We had to define and refine this concept within a short timeframe,” Loo says. “It’s an area with plenty of room for further exploration, and we intend to keep developing it.”

Everything had to come together: the technical risk; the mental recalibration; the long, unseen hours.

“Being on stage was an incredible feeling,” Chang recalls. “Everything I had worked on came together in that moment. I felt fully present and ready to give my best.”

It is tempting to frame his result as a singular milestone, but within Malaysia’s specialty coffee landscape, it reads more like a continuation.

The past few years have seen a steady rise in international visibility, from Jason Loo’s success at the World Barista Championship in Milan last October to Chang’s own ascent in latte art.

Chang, for his part, resists overstating the personal triumph.

“This was my first world championship, and my dream stage. For me, the result is already extraordinary,” he says. “My goal was to bring Malaysia into the finals, and I achieved that.”

In doing so, Chang is inspiring a new generation of Malaysian baristas, firmly securing Team Malaysia’s place at the forefront of the global coffee scene.

“What means the most to me isn’t the result itself, but the recognition Team Malaysia received during the competition in the US. People began to notice our passion, professionalism, and the strength of our growing coffee scene.”

Recognition, in this sense, becomes both validation and responsibility.

Chang is inspiring a new generation of Malaysian baristas. — Picture courtesy of Loo Choy Leng

“Personally, this experience has reshaped how I see my own potential,” Chang reflects. “It reminded me to keep pushing, breaking limits and striving to become a better barista.”

For Loo, that forward motion extends beyond a single competitor. It is embedded in how talent is cultivated — a balance between individual expression and the exacting standards of global competition.

This is all the more remarkable when you consider her demanding schedule: in the past six months alone, she supported Jason Loo at the World Barista Championship 2025 in Milan, while also opening Submerge, a new espresso bar in Bukit Jalil!

Not one to rest on her laurels, Loo reflects on how competition, mentorship and business increasingly intersect in Malaysia’s coffee scene.

She explains, “To develop talent, both mentor and competitor must commit equally in time and effort, especially in refining routines and being open to both constructive and critical feedback.”

There is also an awareness of continuity, that each achievement rests on foundations laid by others.

“I’m not a pioneer in this industry — many others have paved the way — but I want to carry that momentum forward,” Loo says. “Whether through organising events, contributing to education, judging locally and internationally, or sharing on social media, I aim to raise awareness and support growth in our community.”

At its core, the work for coffee professionals like Chang and Loo remains grounded in something disarmingly simple.

Loo sums it up: “I truly believe that a genuine love for coffee brings both joy and the determination to keep pushing the industry forward.”

Afloat Coffee Roaster

Level 2, 2-15-1, Jalan Jalil Perkasa 13, Aked Esplanad, KL

Open daily 9am-6pm

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

KUALA LUMPUR, Apr 17 — Bobby Saputra, a satirical persona created by Ben Sumadiwiria, is probably the most famous Indonesian millionaire’s son on the Internet. 

Saputra generally shows off his outrageous lifestyle on social media to the delight of his 1.5 million followers on Instagram.

Well, this fictitious larger-than-life persona has opened his burger restaurant—Bobby’s Burgers—in Kuala Lumpur!

When prepared well, the Tallow Fries are to die for with their crispy golden texture.

Interestingly, Sumadiwiria is a former chef who trained at Le Cordon Bleu in Malaysia. 

Last year, he returned to his culinary background by launching his burger venture Bobby’s Burgers in Indonesia.

Building on the success of its three outlets in Jakarta and one in Surabaya, this space in The Exchange TRX marks its first overseas outlet. 

The opening menu is concise, featuring only three food items: Bobby’s Double (RM24), Tallow Fries (RM10) and Filthy Fries (RM18). 

There’s a package deal for RM30, combining Bobby’s Double and Tallow Fries.  

Filthy Fries combines a smashed beef patty with Tallow Fries and their signature Billionaire Sauce.

In Malaysia, the beef patties are made with Angus beef but in Indonesia, they also offer a luxurious Wagyu beef option.

The bun is fluffy and soft, with a tinge of sweetness and thankfully, it doesn’t stick to your teeth. 

Each ball of minced beef is smashed on the hot griddle, allowing it to sear quickly for those desired frilly, caramelised edges. 

Once the patties are cooked, they are topped with finely sliced onions caramelised to provide a slight sweetness. 

A slice of cheese is added on top of the patty and scooped onto the griddled buns. 

Bobby’s Double consists of two patties, a pickle and a drizzle of their mysterious Billionaire Sauce. 

Evian water, rather than a generic brand, is served here (left). On the small tables, there are pink salt and pepper grinders (right).

The sauce’s colour resembles Thousand Island but its flavour is hard to pinpoint. 

It’s an essential component to the whole burger; its creaminess balances out the seared beef patties. 

You may complain about the missing lettuce or tomato but without those distractions, you can fully relish the juicy beef with its browned edges, and the soft bun. 

The pickle has a smidgeon of tanginess rather than an overpowering sharpness that would jar you from your burger heaven. 

Many often avoid eating burgers and fries because they are greasy, but strangely enough after a total of three visits here, I haven’t noticed any lingering greasy aftertaste. 

While my many visits have been satisfactory, a friend’s experience was a vast contrast: her burger had almost no Billionaire’s Sauce and left a greasy aftertaste that made her thirsty. 

The smashed patties topped with sliced onions and cheese are cooked on the hot griddle.

This was probably because they ran out of sauce after a super busy weekend, leaving the burger almost devoid of sauce. 

Bobby’s Burgers is the first fast food place here to offer Tallow Fries (RM10), which use 100 per cent beef tallow instead of typical seed oils. 

It definitely elevates these fries, making them crispy on the outside yet fluffy inside with a hint of beef flavour. 

Consistency though is the hurdle they need to overcome as these Tallow Fries, when done well, are truly “to die for” as one friend remarked. 

When I first ate it I was one of the few diners for the day and it lived up to its “to die for” reputation. 

With a small dining area, some customers pack their burgers to eat elsewhere.

By evening (yes, I had it twice in one day), the fries while still crispy, were not as golden crunchy as the morning ones. 

Don’t get me wrong; it still beats the other places flat but once you tasted it in its golden prime, you know it could be better. 

Filthy Fries (RM18) is a mash up of Bobby’s Double and Tallow Fries minus the bun.

Honestly it tastes better when both items are served separately, allowing you to enjoy the crunch from the Tallow Fries without it being dragged down by the beef patty. 

For bragging points, Bobby’s Double is a well executed version that I wouldn’t mind eating when I’m at The Exchange TRX but it’s the Tallow Fries I would totally tell everyone about as those fries are amazing when prepared correctly. 

Bobby’s Burgers

C59, Concourse Level, 

The Exchange TRX (TRX Mall), 59, Persiaran TRX, 

Tun Razak Exchange, Kuala Lumpur.

Instagram: @theofficialbobbysburgers

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

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

PETALING JAYA, April 16 — If you think of Hokkien mee — the KL variety, not Penang — and where to find it in Petaling Jaya, chances are a particularly famous, long-standing spot in Seksyen 14 comes to mind. 

But what of its less famous, less busy neighbour at the other end of the same row of shops, in Restoran Mei Keng?

Though it may not be as established, Peng Yuan Hokkien Mee has been around for decades, spending most of that time in the shadow of its neighbour.

The tree slightly obscures Restoran Mei Keng’s sign, but the coffeeshop’s glaring white lights are impossible to miss at night. — Picture by Ethan Lau

It is the quintessential “the other place”; any discussion of it is almost always done in relation to its more famous counterpart — this piece included. 

But it’s lasted this long. There has to be a reason.

It’s hard not to think so after one look at the dark, sticky, very caramelised plate of Hokkien mee (RM35 for 3 pax), topped with extra ingredients (RM7) and a mountain of pork lard (RM4). 

A noticeable trait of Peng Yuan’s version is the thick, almost dry consistency of the sauce, which clings to the noodles so firmly that there’s almost no trace of it left on the orange plate. 

Baby squid is a unique inclusion in Peng Yuan’s Hokkien mee. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Instead of a soggy, wet mess, it has a glaze-like mouthfeel that leans slightly sweet while boasting plenty of wok hei. 

The sauce coats everything else just as thoroughly — prawns, pork, and springy bits of baby squid, a signature calling card here.

Though the coffeeshop is fairly quiet at night, with only one or two other stalls open, a steady stream of regulars means there can be a slight wait for your noodles — we ordered at 7.30pm, and it arrived after just over 20 minutes. 

Still, it’s child’s play compared to the wait at the other end of the street. Many tables ordered the pork soup (RM24 for 2 pax) to tide themselves over, and we followed suit, enjoying the surprisingly smoky broth with cabbage, choy sum, slices of velveted pork, and a generous topping of yet more pork lard. Peng Yuan does not skimp on the goodies.

Hungry during the wait? Try the pork soup, which is generously topped with even more pork lard. — Picture by Ethan Lau

So, yes, in most minds, Peng Yuan sits firmly in the shadow of the other place down the road. 

But their Hokkien mee more than earns its place. It is, perhaps, “the other place” only by reputation; on the plate, there is little sense of second place.

Peng Yuan Hokkien Mee in Restoran Mei Keng

42, Jalan 14/48, 

Seksyen 14, 

Petaling Jaya, Selangor

Open daily, 4.30-11.30pm

Tel: 010-281 3382

* 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 musings on food and occasionally self-deprecating humour.

KUALA LUMPUR, Apr 15 — It’s not often an eatery delivers on its promise.

Sure, claiming to serve the best, top or most delicious food is a great marketing gimmick to draw a crowd, but it sets expectations high. 

Believe me, I often walk out shaking my head over wasted calories, time and money. 

And like a friend said, I spend more on another meal to make up for that disappointing experience.

Perhaps that’s why I end up eating so much cake; we all know good cake always waves its sugar coated wand to make life so much better. 

It’s not an illusion but this discreet restaurant actually serves a mighty good bowl of lala clam noodles. 

Behold exhibit number one: a bowl laden with so many clams that you fret they may have forgotten to give you noodles. 

Even the extra bowl provided for the empty shells is filled to the brim. 

The wonder doesn’t stop there, each shell hugs the mollusc, indicating it was cooked to perfection since most times the clams slip out to the bottom of the bowl. 

There are no telltale grains of sand or pesky tiny crabs hiding inside the shells either. 

The broth is well-balanced, a difficult achievement. It is naturally sweet with a tinge of ginger, lightly laced with rice wine, present but not overwhelming. 

The Clam Soup Noodles cost RM13.90, well worth the satisfaction after the meal.

Indulge in the Big Prawn Ginger Wine Noodles with the sweet, potent wine and firm prawns — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Temptations also lie within their two-page menu of noodles, like their potent Ginger Wine Egg Noodles (RM12.90). 

I sprung for a more decadent version: the Big Prawn Ginger Wine Noodles (RM23.90), which came with three large prawns. 

The firm texture of the prawns was a huge plus. 

Try out the different toppings like grouper fish fillet with fish paste — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

The wine is potent with an underlying sweetness, balanced by the scrambled omelette made with fresh ginger and extra crunch from sliced black fungus. 

If you’re a fan of the slightly sweet wine, your bowl will definitely be drained to the last drop. 

Other choices include grouper fillet, fish paste and dumplings, served in different permutations with your choice of noodles. 

Grouper fish fillets are thick cut with a flaky texture (left). Fish paste has a semi-firm texture (right) —Pictures by Lee Khang Yi

There’s also the unusual Golden Fish Puffs, apparently beancurd mixed with fish paste that gives it a softer, fluffier bite. 

The broth has a thicker consistency, flavoured by fish bones and further enhanced with a spoonful of fried garlic. 

All of the other noodle toppings were big hits for me. 

Dumplings and Fish Puffs Noodles is one of the pre-fixed combinations on the menu — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Grouper fillet was thick and flaky with a slightly chewy skin, while the dumplings (siu kow) were a giant, crunchy, juicy bite all rolled into one.

Fish Paste and Golden Fish Puffs focus more on textures, choose based on whether you prefer a firmer bite or a soft cloud-like one. 

Golden Fish Puffs are softer with a mixture of beancurd and fish paste (left). Dumplings are stuffed to the brim with a juicy meat filling (right) — Pictures by Lee Khang Yi

My only gripe is that the menu doesn’t allow much flexibility to order the toppings separately, forcing you to follow their pre-fixed combinations like Dumplings and Fish Puffs Noodles for RM13.90, Grouper Fillet Noodles for RM22.90 or Pure Fish Paste Noodles for RM11.90.

It’s not all about noodles as they also serve the everyman’s super meal: kampung chicken rice. 

This isn’t as popular as most times, you see diners tucking into piping hot bowls of noodles . 

Occasionally, diners will add a side order of chicken to ramp up their protein fix. 

The restaurant offers a comfortable air-conditioned environment ideal for the hot weather (left). The signboard delivers that tasty promise (right) — Pictures by Lee Khang Yi

Restoran Tasty Lala Noodles

39, Jalan Pandan Indah 4/6A, 

Pandan Indah, Kuala Lumpur

Tel:03-42883564

Open: 9.30am to 3pm, 5pm to 8.30pm (Monday to Friday) 9am to 3pm, 5pm to 9pm (Saturday and Sunday)

Facebook: @tastylala

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

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

KUALA LUMPUR, Apr 14 — The chilled watermelon, cut into delicate cubes, has a sweetness that feels both familiar and refreshing. Mint leaves weave through the fruit, releasing their cool aroma.

Pomegranate seeds, like tiny jewels, burst intermittently. Grapes contribute a firmer sweetness, while nutty quinoa provide a surprising texture that elevates the dish. The feta, slightly crumbly and salty, cuts through the medley of flavours.

The Coco Deli in Taman OUG, KL — Picture by CK Lim

This is the Mediterranean Watermelon Salad, served at The Coco Deli in Taman OUG. A collection of contrasting elements, sure, each playing its own tune on the plate, yet also harmonising somehow.

What an introduction to the rest of their menu.

It is our first time at The Coco Deli. After a coffee stop next door at The Hub, we wandered in at that in-between hour when breakfast had already passed, but lunch had not yet fully taken hold. 

Our timing proved serendipitous. Before long, the café filled, reservations securing nearly every table as the afternoon began to unfold.

Back to that watermelon salad; strange how it reminds of us of a Thai classic, pla haeng taengmo. 

Traditionally, that dish pairs watermelon with dried fish floss and fried shallots, creating a collision of sweet, salty, and aromatic flavours that feel both unexpected and natural.

At The Coco Deli, however, the fish floss is replaced with feta, its lactic tang cutting through the sweetness, and the shallots are swapped for mint and grains. This version, although less intense, works wonderfully too.

We love how the sharpness of the feta counteracts the sweetness of the watermelon. While its Thai cousin revels in stronger flavours, this Mediterranean interpretation is more measured and its edges softened.

Grilled Black Pepper Beef Tenderloin & Baby Potatoes — Picture by CK Lim

Following the salad, we share The Coco Deli’s Grilled Black Pepper Beef Tenderloin with Baby Potatoes.

Thickly sliced tenderloin, cooked to a perfect medium rare, are surprisingly tender and charred just enough to impart a grilled flavour. The roasted baby potatoes, their skins blistered and crisp, complement the beef. 

But the true highlight has to be the chimichurri. Vibrant and herbaceous, it cuts through the richness of the meat, adding a much needed acidity that brightens the entire dish.

The inclusion of chimichurri evokes memories of traditional parrilla restaurants in Buenos Aires, where asado or grilled meats are often paired with these bold sauces. Oh, to live — and eat — the way the gauchos did!

Unwrapping the parcel — Picture by CK Lim

Next came a paper parcel where half the fun is in the unwrapping, if you ask us. This is the Baked Seafood Spaghetti, a dish that recalls French style fish en papillote. 

The prawns, still in their shells, retain a juicy sweetness, their flavour seeping into the surrounding cream sauce, which remains velvety without becoming overwhelming.

Truth be told, the pasta itself could benefit from a touch more bite, particularly those who favour a firmer al dente.

Baked Seafood Spaghetti — Picture by CK Lim

One of our party remarked that it reminded them of Singaporean Hokkien Mee, and it’s easy to understand the comparison: both dishes revolve around noodles deep in seafood flavour.

Here, however, the broth is thickened with dairy and then baked, transforming it into a more full-bodied dish. Don’t waste a single drop.

Other offerings on the menu suggest that the kitchen is strongly influenced by Mediterranean and Middle Eastern cuisines, filtered through a local sensibility. 

The Fennel & Herbs salad, with raisins, sumac and za’atar, for instance, offers a bright, aniseed-tinged complexity punctuated by sweet and sour notes. 

The Salted Egg Corn Ribs, dusted with sumac and paired with tzatziki, sound like a playful collision of South-east Asian fervour and Greek coolness.

Salted Caramel Flourless Chocolate Cake — Picture by CK Lim

Which makes it interesting, then, that for dessert, our server recommended a far more neutral (geographically speaking, that is) slice of Salted Caramel Flourless Chocolate Cake.

More dense than decadent, the gluten-free cake’s dark chocolate base is offset by a warm salted caramel sauce. The sweetness of the caramel, with its hint of salt, provides a necessary counterpoint to the cake’s intensity.

Despite the globe-trotting menu, The Coco Deli emphasises comfort food rather than fussy indulgence. What a delight though, to taste the world in every bite!

The Coco Deli

63, Jalan Hujan Rahmat 3, 

Taman Overseas Union, KL.

Open daily 11am-3pm, 6-10pm

Phone: 07-211 4846

IG: https://www.instagram.com/thecocodeli.co/

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

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

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

KUALA LUMPUR, Apr 13 — Who needs to eat yet another avocado toast when your tastebuds can travel to the East Coast via your breakfast spread?

Join the queue at this unassuming eatery on the fringe of Bukit Jalil and Seri Kembangan, where Terengganu food takes center stage. 

Even though Terengganu and Kelantanese food are both from the East Coast, diners in the Klang Valley tend to prefer Kelantanese food for its bolder flavours and heavier use of sugar. 

Nasi Dagang Ikan uses a chunk of ‘ikan tongkol hitam’ paired with a sweeter ‘gulai’ — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Start your morning with a plate of nasi dagang with white grains rather than the reddish-brown flecked rice favoured by the Kelantanese. 

The colour may not grab your attention but the texture of the jasmine and glutinous rice combination is tender. 

It’s painstakingly steamed and combined with coconut milk several times until the separate grains glisten and it’s plump with the santan. 

Nasi Dagang Daging may not look different but it has tender chunks of beef inside a rich, fragrant ‘gulai’. —Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Nasi Dagang Ikan (RM9) is the traditional pairing where a chunk of ikan tongkol hitam is drenched in a gulai made with a spice paste combining fermented shrimp paste, chilies, garlic, ginger and galangal.  

It’s hard to say which one I prefer but the Nasi Dagang Daging (RM9) — an even richer, aromatic gulai with chunks of tender beef — won me over. 

Both gulai dishes aren’t heavy with chiles, allowing you to enjoy the meal without a burning sensation on your tongue. 

Laksam (RM6) is prepared differently here. 

At first glance, it doesn’t look different. You have those rolls of silky soft steamed noodles in a thick coconut milk gravy. There’s an ulam and a dollop of bright red sambal. 

Laksam is prepared differently here, using a thick ‘belacan’ block for flavour when mixed together. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Wait, what’s that brown square on top? It turns out to be a piece of fermented shrimp paste or belacan, which gives an instant boost of umami to the whole bowl. 

What’s unusual about this gravy is that it isn’t made with pounded fish, which leaves you with a cleaner aftertaste. 

As you combine all of the ingredients, the belacan melds with the thick coconut gravy, creating an appetising taste with just a hint of spiciness.

Chewy Keropok Goreng GTR is accompanied by a tangy-spicy sauce. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

On every table, there’s a plate of Keropok Lekor GTR (RM9.50), where the chewy fish cracker is dipped in the tangy-spicy sauce. Leftovers are even packed home to slowly nibble on later. 

Don’t ignore their most unassuming item: the Pulut Gaul Nyior (RM3), which is soft glutinous rice shaped into balls and dressed with the fluffiest grated coconut. 

Pulut Gaul Nyior mixes soft glutinous rice balls topped with the fluffiest grated coconut and paired with salted fish and ‘ikan tongkol’. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Each portion is paired with salted fish and chunks of ikan tongkol, giving the soft tender glutinous rice a tinge of saltiness that combines well with the sweetness from the feather soft grated coconut.  

The spread on the table will tempt you to return for their sticky nasi kunyit, nasi minyak and even nasi lemak. 

There are more temptations nearby in the form of kuih cara and one of the best renditions of kuih ketayap. 

Beside the restaurant, there is an airy dining space. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

This version of kuih ketayap features a soft pandan flavoured green crepe wrapped around fragrant grated coconut soaked in gula Melaka. 

Triangular parcels of grated coconut and fish known as satar plus pulut lepe wrapped in banana leaf can also be bought for a takeaway.

Beside the restaurant, there is an airy dining space. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Kafe Masakan Terenganu Asli

No. 2-G, Jalan LP7/5B, 

Lestari Perdana, 

Taman Putra Permai, Seri Kembangan.

Tel:019-3886645/018-3886847

Open: 7am to 4pm (Tuesday to Saturday), 7am to 1pm (Sunday). Closed on Mondays. 

Facebook: @nasidagangasli

Instagram: @masakanasli_terengganu

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

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

PETALING JAYA, April 12 — I’ve always struggled with the question, “If you could only eat one dish for the rest of your life, what would it be?”

Not because I imagine myself actually having to make that choice; I’m more of an “answer first, consequences later” kind of person.

It’s the hypothetical of getting sick of eating the same thing day after day that weighs on my mind. How could anyone do it? How would I?

Except I have, sort of. For four straight years at university, I ate the same breakfast. Every single morning.

It was a painfully simple meal of microwaved rice, a raw egg, and whatever seasoning I had on hand: soy sauce, chilli crisp, seaweed, or furikake.

It was the first thing my father ever taught me to make for myself, back when I was too young and too short to peer over the stove, and I never once felt bored with it.

What I later learned is that he taught me an abridged version of tamago kake gohan, a classic Japanese comfort food of raw egg stirred into hot rice that, probably owing to its simplicity, I’ve never encountered in a restaurant here.

That is, until I stumbled upon Blue Hour.

Fashioning itself as a tiny Japanese noodle bar and supper spot, it has already captured the curiosity of PJ residents — the younger ones, anyway — in the short three months since opening.

It’s a small place, but it bursts with personality. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Though the location is discreet, tucked above a Cosway store in the SS2 Chow Yang area with no signage at all, it was packed to the brim on a recent visit.

Within minutes of the doors opening at 7.30pm, every table and all but one seat at the bar were taken.

Why the frenzy? I can’t give an objective answer for my fellow PJ-residing Gen Zs, but I’d put it down to a mix of impressionability and a healthy dose of FOMO — the fear of missing out is a powerful motivator.

Me? I’m here for the Premium TKG (RM20.90), a souped-up version of my university breakfast, loaded with shreds of chashu, shio kombu (dried salted kelp), negi, and strips of nori.

Mine never looked this good. Though with this many toppings, you lose the ability to whip the hot rice and egg into the light, frothy consistency that is part of the appeal of tamago kake gohan.

Still, it made for a very satisfying rice bowl, especially when finished with the house-made chilli crisp available tableside.

The ‘aburasoba’, a ‘dry’ ramen, is the main draw for most visitors. — Picture by Ethan Lau

The main attraction here is the Abura Soba (RM26.90), a dry ramen topped with thick hunks of chashu, bamboo shoots, and seaweed.

Dating back to the 1950s, aburasoba is the spiritual predecessor to Taiwan mazesoba, the Nagoya delicacy popularised by the chain Menya Hanabi.

Its traditional toppings are simpler, leaving out the raw garlic, minced meat, and spice mixture typical of Taiwan mazesoba.

The result here is a comforting bowl of porky, savoury ramen, better suited to our “kon lou” inclinations, and ideal for slurping alongside a highball or a beer.

Potato salad is usually a non-event, but Blue Hour’s has a very interesting whipped texture. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Aside from the mains, the Homemade Potato Salad (RM12.90) and Nikujyaga (RM18.90) offer even more in the way of comfort.

The former is cold and creamy, with a delightfully light, whipped texture, while the latter is a simple, sweet stew of sliced pork, potatoes, carrots, and onions, the very definition of heartwarming.

Set a bowl of white rice alongside it, and I could have gone through bowl after bowl of that stew.

Ultimate comfort food: ‘nikujyaga’ is a heartwarming Japanese stew of sliced meat, pork in this case, with carrots, onions and potatoes. — Picture by Ethan Lau

For all its buzz, Blue Hour still feels like a work in progress. The three-man team runs the space with clear earnestness, but the pace can be slow, especially once the room fills up.

That said, there’s a sincerity to the cooking and warmth to the experience that makes the wait easier to forgive.

Make a reservation ahead of time, go in with a bit of patience, and you’ll likely leave satisfied.

Blue Hour

1st Floor, 97, 

Jalan SS 2/6, 

SS 2, Petaling Jaya.

Opening hours:

Monday: 8pm-12am

Thursday and Friday: 7.30pm-12am

Saturday and Sunday: 6pm-12am

Closed Tuesday and Wednesday

Instagram: @blue__hour____

* 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 musings on food and occasionally self-deprecating humour.

KUALA LUMPUR, April 11 — Some desserts ask for patience. A stew might need hours to deepen in flavour; a cake demands careful measuring, folding and the steady watch of an oven timer. Baking, for many of us, carries that quiet expectation of effort.

Then along comes a recipe that feels almost cheeky in its simplicity.

This viral “Japanese cheesecake” – if we may call it that – is one such creation. It has been making the rounds online, quietly astonishing home cooks everywhere with how little it asks of you.

No whisking. No mixing. No baking.

Just yoghurt. And biscuits.

I will admit my first reaction was scepticism. Cheesecake, after all, is usually a more involved affair: cream cheese softened carefully, eggs beaten just so, perhaps even a water bath tucked gently into the oven. The sort of dessert you plan an afternoon around.

Greek yoghurt. — Picture by CK Lim

This version takes about five minutes.

You assemble it at night, slide it into the refrigerator, and forget about it entirely. By morning, the biscuits will have softened into delicate layers while the yoghurt settles into something surprisingly close to a light cheesecake.

No drama, no complicated technique – just a small bit of kitchen alchemy happening quietly while you sleep.

Chocolate biscuits. — Picture by CK Lim

And really, isn’t that the sort of recipe weekends are made for?

VIRAL JAPANESE CHEESECAKE

A thick Greek yoghurt works best as it has already been strained, giving it a richer body than standard yoghurt. The added density also brings the consistency closer to that of a traditional cheesecake, while contributing a pleasant tang that keeps the dessert from becoming cloying.

Press the biscuits down into the yoghurt. — Picture by CK Lim

The type of biscuit is flexible. The original viral version used Biscoff biscuits, but almost any crisp biscuit will do just as well. Plain tea biscuits, chocolate sandwich biscuits, or even lightly spiced varieties all work nicely, each bringing its own character to the finished dessert.

Just before serving, a light dusting of cocoa powder or raw cacao powder is worth adding. The faint bitterness contrasts beautifully with the mild sweetness of the yoghurt and biscuits, giving the dessert a more balanced flavour.

Dust with raw cacao powder. — Picture by CK Lim

Ingredients

500 g thick plain yoghurt (preferably Greek, unsweetened)

10–12 chocolate biscuits, or any crisp biscuit you enjoy

1–2 teaspoons raw cacao powder or cocoa powder

Scoop away and enjoy! — Picture by CK Lim

Method

Begin by spooning the yoghurt into small jars or containers that can be covered later. The containers need not be elaborate; anything with a lid that fits comfortably in the refrigerator will work well.

Once the yoghurt is in place, start adding the biscuits. Press them gently into the yoghurt so that they are mostly submerged.

If you are using tall jars, placing the biscuits vertically works neatly, allowing you to fit several into each container. In a wider, shallower dish, laying them flat tends to be easier.

Continue until all the biscuits have been used. Finish with a layer of yoghurt on top so the biscuits are fully enclosed.

Cover the containers and place them in the refrigerator for at least six hours, though leaving them overnight gives the best result. During this resting period the biscuits soften while the yoghurt thickens slightly, forming a texture that resembles a chilled cheesecake.

When ready to serve, remove the jars from the refrigerator and dust the surface lightly with cocoa or raw cacao powder. Scoop away and enjoy!

KUALA LUMPUR, April 10 — Familia Torres has appointed Luen Heng F&B Sdn Bhd as its exclusive importer and distributor in Malaysia.

The partnership was announced at a launch event at Chinese Palace Restaurant, attended by regional manager for Asia-Pacific, the Middle East, and Africa, Gil Serra Arnau, who said the collaboration reflects a shared vision of quality and long-term growth.

“We’ve been in Malaysia for more than 20 years, but we had a different distribution before,” he said.

“Luen Heng F&B’s strong market presence and dedication to excellence make them an ideal partner to represent Familia Torres and Miguel Torres in Malaysia.”

The largest family-owned winery in Spain, Familia Torres was founded in 1870 in the Penedès region and remains under fifth-generation family leadership.

The company expanded internationally in 1979 with the establishment of Miguel Torres Chile in Chile’s Central Valley.

Today, the group operates vineyards and wineries across multiple regions and exports to more than 150 countries, including key Asian markets such as China, Japan, Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore and Vietnam.

A selection of wines across both Familia Torres and Miguel Torres portfolios, including staples like Viña Esmeralda and more complex expressions like Celeste Crianza from Ribera del Duero. — Picture by Choo Choy May

“We have wines for every palate at every location, so we promote those that are most suitable for the market,” Arnau said.

“In Malaysia, the preference for Spanish wines is still for Rioja, with a richer taste profile, which we have wines like Altos Ibéricos Crianza; some wines, like Sangre de Toro with its red label, are also popular for gifting during festive seasons like Chinese New Year.”

The Familia Torres portfolio in Malaysia is centred on accessible and approachable styles.

Among its key labels is Viña Esmeralda, a Moscatel-based white wine that is the brand’s most popular in Asia, as well as Sangre de Toro, a flagship red first introduced in 1954.

Arnau described Sangre de Toro as “an ambassador of Spanish wine”, noting that it is available in more than 100 countries worldwide.

Beyond its more accessible labels, Familia Torres also produces wines aimed at more experienced drinkers, including premium expressions such as Salmos.

Staples such as Sangre de Toro are available in over 100 countries (left). Conversely, only 10,000 to 20,000 bottles of Salmos are produced each year, of which only 300 are allocated to Malaysia (right). — Pictures by Choo Choy May

“It’s a blend of Cariñena and Garnacha from Priorat, a very small region with only 2,000 hectares of vineyards,” Arnau said. “The soil is unique — it’s slate — and the vineyards can reach altitudes of up to 700 metres above sea level.”

Yields are typically low, resulting in limited production of around 10,000 to 20,000 bottles globally per vintage, with approximately 300 bottles allocated to Malaysia.

He described the wine as intense, with rich fruit and mineral characteristics, noting that 12 months of ageing in French oak adds further complexity and allows it to develop over a further eight to 10 years.

Alongside its Spanish range, the company’s Malaysian portfolio also includes Chilean wines under Miguel Torres Chile, with a focus on styles that pair well with Malaysian flavours.

Arnau recommends a light, refreshing white such as Santa Digna Sauvignon Blanc for a classic Cantonese-style steamed fish.

Lighter wines from their Chilean portfolio, such as Santa Digna Sauvignon Blanc, pair well with local dishes such as steamed fish. — Picture by Choo Choy May

“Sauvignon Blanc has nice acidity, along with floral and vegetal aromas that work with the superior soy sauce,” he said.

As the exclusive distributor, Luen Heng F&B will introduce the portfolio across Malaysia through a network of fine dining establishments, hotels and premium retail channels.

The appointment is expected to expand access to a wider selection of internationally recognised wines, contributing to the development of Malaysia’s wine market.

SHAH ALAM, April 10 — “You like fastidious artisans, eh?”

My instinct was to loudly protest, “No!” and to bring up many substantiated examples of not liking particular eateries that my partner had designated so.

But it slowly drowned in the sinking realisation that, yes, I actually do. If I recall correctly, my words to her at the time were, “I see a certain romance to them.”

Which is why, on a recent weekday, with plenty of better things to do, I embarked on a 30-plus-minute trip to Setia Alam with a friend in search of one thing, and one thing alone: Taiwanese braised pork rice.

In all honesty, the dish — also known as lu rou fan — is easy enough to find in the greater Petaling Jaya/Kuala Lumpur area.

But I’d heard tales of this spot all the way out in Setia Alam, of all places, open for only a few hours a day and, on most days, selling out of a supposedly superlative rendition of the dish.

Typically, when I encounter this sort of mythos surrounding a place that’s hard to track down, sells out before closing, and only serves one dish, I’m expecting to stumble upon a hawker.

Instead, Loba.png — the name refers to the Taiwanese pronunciation of the dish, lo bah png — is a first-floor shop in Sunsuria Forum.

The whole operation is a one-man show. — Picture by Ethan Lau

It’s barely a restaurant, but the space is carefully designed in a Japanese-inspired minimalist style.

The eight-seater counter is reminiscent of Japanese yatai stalls, with a small waiting area behind it lined with books on the titular dish.

Behind the pass is the owner, a young, bespectacled man who barely utters a word, let alone lifts his gaze from his main task: frying eggs à la minute for each portion of braised pork rice (RM13).

There’s no ordering process. You arrive, wait for a seat to open up, take it, and about a minute later, a bowl materialises in front of you.

It’s a thing of beauty: a deep brown layer of meat and sauce, comprised of roughly diced pork belly and tiny globs of fat that barely hold up on your spoon and melt instantly on your tongue.

At its centre, a perfectly jammy yolk from the fried egg shines through like the sun.

Beneath the meat are some simple blanched greens and a starchy variety of short-grain rice.

Can’t find the restaurant? Look for the lift or stairs next to the Maybank ATM on the ground floor. — Picture by Ethan Lau

One mouthful and it became immediately apparent why people queue for it on a weekday, why the drive was worth it, and why the owner doesn’t say much.

Between the copious amount of shallots driving the sweet sauce, the soft but not uniform texture of the pork, and the sticky texture of the rice, the food speaks for itself. I promptly ordered a second bowl.

My partner’s right. I do have a soft spot for this sort of thing. I still see a certain romance in the very human endeavour of striving to perfect something — in this case, Taiwanese braised pork rice — and refusing to compromise in the name of business or profit margins.

Less romantic is the struggle in locating the shop. My advice: park near the Village Grocer entrance, take the travelator up, and look for the Maybank ATM beside it.

From there, take the lift next to the ATM or the stairs in the corridor between to the first floor, and follow the signs.

Blink and you’ll miss it: the restaurant’s front is a minimalistic one. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Loba.png

F-1-40, Sunsuria Forum,

Setia Alam,

Shah Alam, Selangor.

Open daily, 12-4pm, or sold out. Closed on Wednesdays.

Instagram: @loba.png

* 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 musings on food and occasionally self-deprecating humour.

PETALING JAYA, April 9 — Tucked within the timeworn corridors of Happy Mansion in Section 17, PJ, where ageing apartment blocks now house an eclectic mix of independent food businesses, sits Rundle Street Coffee.

The modest coffee bar, which opened in January, is essentially a one-man show run by barista founder Keith Liew. His journey here has been neither direct nor predictable, however.

The 34-year-old’s academic grounding was in communications, film, and media studies at Taylor’s University and the University of South Australia — a foundation that led him into corporate roles.

“I once had lofty dreams of becoming a radio host or a filmmaker,” he says. Instead he began his career as a brand executive at a media company, before moving into “advertising with NagaDDB Tribal and later influencer marketing with SushiVid as Head of Brand.”

Liew’s professional trajectory continued into e-commerce, where he “spent four years across different functions and played a role in setting up Flower Chimp and CakeRush,” before moving into the events space with Informa Markets.

Rundle Street Coffee is located at Happy Mansion in Section 17, PJ. — Picture courtesy of Rundle Street Coffee

Yet, parallel to this corporate climb ran a different, more tactile interest. He says, “In between these roles, I worked at cafés like Rekindle and The Hub Coffee Roasters, which shaped my passion for coffee.”

That prelude gained urgency following a retrenchment. Liew shares, “I was eventually retrenched after two years, and spent several months looking for a corporate role before becoming an e-hailing driver for about one and a half years.”

It was during this period of recalibration that the idea of a coffee bar took form. He says, “With encouragement from my wife Crystal, I presented a plan to start a solo coffee bar and received a small loan from my parents to get started.”

The early iterations were pragmatic but unsustainable. He recalls, “We began with pop-ups and a home-based takeaway setup, but found the model unsustainable due to high costs and inconsistent returns.”

The conclusion was clear: a permanent space, however modest, would be necessary.

The small, intimate space with limited seating encourages interaction between Liew and customers. — Picture courtesy of Rundle Street Coffee

The name of the café offers a clue to its conceptual anchor. Liew explains, “I named the coffee bar after Rundle Street in Adelaide, where I spent much of my time while studying — meeting friends, having coffee, and enjoying the mix of culture and food there.”

The reference is not merely geographic, but cultural. He says, “I want the coffee bar to reflect that period of my life. The name often becomes a conversation starter, which ties into the Australian coffee culture where small talk and relationships between baristas and customers are important.”

This emphasis on interpersonal exchange underpins Liew’s broader philosophy: “In Australia, coffee is part of a daily routine and relationships between customers and baristas develop naturally over time. In Malaysia, there is more of a trend-driven culture where people seek out the newest or most viral spots.”

His response to this social media-driven cycle is deliberate: “My philosophy is to focus on quality, consistency, and genuine customer relationships rather than chasing trends.”

Rundle Street Coffee’s offerings include the Melbourne-style Magic. — Picture courtesy of Rundle Street Coffee

Running the business solo has its challenges, Liew admits, but “it allows me to focus on what matters most.”

The menu reflects this restraint. “Every item on the menu has a purpose. I want customers to feel welcomed and to know they can rely on what we serve.”

That same clarity extends to how the business grows — or rather, how it doesn’t. “I also don’t believe in paid marketing or influencer campaigns. I value organic word-of-mouth — when customers come because someone recommended us, it means the experience genuinely resonated.”

The physical space itself was shaped as much by circumstance as by intent. Liew shares, “I came across the space by chance and had to rethink my usual approach to design, as the coffee bar shares space with an Indonesian restaurant filled with antiques and décor pieces.”

Rather than impose a separate identity, he chose alignment. “It was important that the coffee bar complemented the overall environment rather than clashing with it.”

The outcome is a compact, open-bar layout with limited seating. “The result is a small, intimate space with limited seating that encourages interaction — both between myself and customers, and among customers themselves, similar to small izakayas in Japan.”

Functionally, the setup serves a second purpose. Liew says, “The open bar setup allows for direct engagement, and the compact layout also improves efficiency, especially for takeaway orders.”

On the beverage front, the approach is similarly pared back but intentional: “I exclusively source my coffee beans from The Hub Coffee Roasters, where I previously worked. I serve only single origin beans across all beverages.”

Coffees range from the usual suspects such as espressos and flat whites to less common offerings such as a Magic, a double ristretto topped with steamed milk and served in a 5oz cup (“a Melbourne-style coffee that is not commonly found in Malaysia,” Liew says) and a Sticky Chai Latte, “made with a blend of milk and oat milk for a balance of spice, creaminess and nuttiness.”

Weekends bring a collaborative dimension: “My wife Crystal joins and brings her specialty in matcha. We offer matcha latte and dirty matcha latte.”

The cakes, including the popular Salted Pandan Gula Melaka Cake and Onde Onde Cake, abound with local flavours and are sourced from Elevete Pâtisserie in Taman Megah.

Liew says, “I’ve known the owner for years, and their cakes offer a strong balance of quality and value. Importantly, they are halal-certified, which allows us to cater to a wider audience.”

Salted Pandan Gula Melaka Cake (left) and Onde Onde Cake (right). — Pictures courtesy of Rundle Street Coffee

If the ethos of Rundle Street Coffee appears measured, it is partly because of the constraints that shaped it.

Liew notes, “Capital was the biggest challenge. Equipment like the espresso machine and grinder alone made up about 60–65 per cent of the startup cost. There were also concerns about whether a permanent setup would be viable.”

Yet, early signs suggest optimism. “After a few months, we’ve started to build a small but growing base of regular customers, mainly residents of Happy Mansion, Section 17 and even neighbouring suburbs like Bandar Utama and TTDI.”

For now, Liew’s ambition remains cautious and contained: “I don’t know what tomorrow holds, but I intend to keep the promise of quality of my creations and service to whoever walks through the door.”

In a landscape often driven by novelty, Liew’s approach reads as something else entirely — less about expansion, more about passion; less about visibility, more about presence.

Rundle Street Coffee

AG-6, Ground Floor Block A,

Happy Mansion,

Section 17, PJ.

Open Tue-Fri 8am-3pm, Sat-Sun 10am-3pm (Mon closed)

Phone: 012-206 8713

IG: @rundlestreetcoffee

PETALING JAYA, April 8 — Within the confines of a local coffee shop, you  can sometimes find something different from the usual wantan mee, char kway teow or chicken rice but Japanese ramen?

With a cheaper cost model, these ramen bowls are priced lower than those at a stand-alone restaurant, appealing to budget-conscious diners.

Opened in March this year inside Restoran SS2 Chow Yang Kopitiam, Ramen Ichinisan is run by Japanese chef Masahiro Saito and his Malaysian wife.

Previously he operated a stall inside Jalan Ipoh’s Keng Nam Hai and was featured by several social media platforms.

Choices are aplenty at this vast coffee shop that spans four shoplots. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

This move to SS2 makes more sense as it’s nearer to the couple’s home base.

Using a tonkotsu pork bone base, there are three variations: shoyu, black garlic and spicy.

Their tonkotsu soup leans towards a lighter style and is definitely less salty, so you won’t immediately need water or coffee to banish that lingering aftertaste.

It may not appeal to those who prefer a thicker fattier broth with a heavier taste and a stronger salt profile.

While those types of ramen bowls offer a full punch of savoriness from the first sip, I often suffer later because my tongue cannot adjust to the saltiness and richness from the fats used.

Burn your tongue with this Spicy Tonkotsu Ramen mixed with the potent chilli paste and minced raw garlic. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Black Garlic Tonkotsu Ramen (RM19) includes a burnt garlic oil for a smokiness while their Shoyu Tonkotsu Ramen is rich with the soy sauce used.

Fiery chilli fiends can relish the Spicy Tonkotsu Ramen (RM20), as once you mix in the potent red paste and minced raw garlic, you may be wiping away tears as you drink the broth.

The bowls are dressed with homemade chashu, a marinated egg, ito togarashi (red chili threads), narutomaki (fishcake) and vegetables.

Made in-house, the chashu is cut into meaty slices and grilled to achieve a smoky flavour.

Dry Noodles with Wasabi has smoky flavours from the grilled ‘chashu’ pieces. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

The noodles are sourced from a distributor but ask for it to be cooked to your preferred texture. .

There’s also the unusual Dry Noodles with Wasabi (RM18), which I decided to pack home to sample.

The flavour comes from the chashu, which is chopped into small pieces and grilled to give it an enticing smoky flavour.

Mix the chashu with the ramen, egg, vegetables and the packet of wasabi.

It gets a little dry on its own without a sauce but you can rectify this by adding some of their tonkotsu broth from your bowl of Shoyu Tonkotsu.

You also don’t get much of the pungent wasabi paste with just one packet so ask for extra to ramp up the flavours.

With a lighter taste for the ramen, this leaves room to add a plate of popiah or in my case, some pieces of yong tau foo from the Ipoh Mali stall.

The stall is located at the furthest lot from the corner. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Take note the ramen stall is at the furthest lot from the corner.

Ramen Ichinisan Stall

Restoran SS2 Chow Yang Kopitiam,

44, 46, 48 and 50, Jalan SS2/10,

Petaling Jaya.

Open: 8.30am to 2.30pm. Closed on Mondays.

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

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

MELAKA, April 7 — Food in Melaka is often synonymous with Peranakan cuisine, as though the city’s appetite begins and ends with ayam pongteh and Nyonya laksa.

Spend some time with the locals, though, and you’ll soon realise that this notion is far from the truth. Malaccans, just like everyone else, crave variety in what they eat.

Which is how we found the customers at Ann99 Kopitiam in Taman Pertam Jaya, not far from the touristy town centre: they were all busy tucking into their plates of Thai braised pork.

Ann99 Kopitiam in Taman Pertam Jaya, Melaka. — Picture by CK Lim

Known as kha mu in Thai, this is not a dish that one immediately considers emblematic of the historical city. Still, good food is universal; representation isn’t necessary for diners to revel in it.

The tender pork, steeped in soy sauce and aromatics, yields with a softness that speaks to hours of slow cooking. While the form is unmistakably Thai, the flavours clearly carries echoes of Teochew braising.

In other words, this is a dish we are familiar with, and one we feel an affinity for on some deeper level.

The modest, no-frills neighbourhood setting. — Picture by CK Lim

The kopitiam itself is modest, a typical no-frills neighbourhood setting. This is as it should be, of course, with the attention directed firmly at the food.

At the cooking station near the entrance, the owner works at a steady pace, tackling one customer order after another. The shop seems to mainly draw office workers and neighbourhood regulars, always a good sign, if you ask us.

We order what most tables seem to be having: Pork Leg Rice. (The dish is called khao kha mu in Thai; khao means “rice”).

Served atop hot steamed rice, the pork knuckle has been braised until the meat yields but does not fall apart, its layers of skin and fat softened into that unctuous gelatinous texture. Oh my.

The owner cooking at a steady pace. — Picture by CK Lim

The sauce itself is half the temptation; sinfully dark from hours of patient cooking. Reduced to a point where it almost clings to the meat before seeping gradually into the rice beneath. Such sweet, slow braised symphony.

Some sides, almost an afterthought: A halved egg, its yolk faintly stained by the braising liquid. Pickled mustard greens, sharp enough to reset the palate between bites. Basic, yes, but balanced.

Two sauces accompany the khao kha mu, and they elevate the experience further. One is a fiery red, vinegary chilli sauce reminiscent of what accompanies Hainanese chicken rice.

Pork Leg Rice (or 'khao kha mu'). — Picture by CK Lim

The other, phrik nam pla, delivers something more essential to a proper Thai meal. Fish sauce laced with bird’s eye chillies, raw garlic, and lime — the quintessential Thai dipping sauce.

We get heat from the chillies and umami from the fish sauce. We brave the pungency of the garlic. We celebrate how the bright acidity from the lime juice slices cleanly through the richness of the pork.

Our eyes water and our nostrils flare. Yet these are not distractions but badges of pride. No regrets.

Naturally we couldn’t help but order a bowl of their Pork Leg Noodles (or kuay teow kha mu) too. Here, the braise extends into a darker and more assertive broth, distinct from the lighter kuay teow nam sai (Thai clear pork noodle soup).

Pork Leg Noodles (or 'kuay teow kha mu'). — Picture by CK Lim

Flat rice noodles are the best choice for this heady brew, catching every last drop of liquid in soft folds. Pork meatballs introduce contrast, some barely there bounce to match the melting chew of the braised meat.

The friendly owner reminds us that there are more condiments at our table, from nam pla (fish sauce) and pickled green chillies to the omnipresent canister of granulated sugar — a must in any Thai eatery.

As adoring fans of kha mu, we are grateful that there is no attempt here to modernise. No reinterpretation. The food here is straightforward, delicious and unapologetically Thai.

Thai condiments. — Picture by CK Lim

Just a faithful rendering of a dish that has travelled across borders and tastes as good in a modest Melaka kopitiam as it does from a Thai street food cart.

Visit, and you might not be able to stop at a single plate or bowl. Or at least, make plans to return for more the very next day.

Indeed, who could blame you for surrendering to the call of kha mu? Resistance, as they say, is futile.

Ann99 Kopitiam

51, Jalan PJ 1,

Taman Pertam Jaya, Melaka.

Open Sat-Wed 7:30am–2:30pm; Thu & Fri closed

Phone: 011-2302 8609

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

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

PETALING JAYA, April 6 — Get your sushi belts ready, Klang Valley residents. Japan’s beloved conveyor belt giant, Sushiro, is about to double its footprint in the city.

After the massive success of its first branch at KLCC, Sushiro has officially announced it is storming into two of the country’s busiest malls: 1 Utama and Sunway Pyramid.

That’s right. You will soon no longer have to drive to KLCC. Soon, you can get your fix while shopping for sneakers or catching a movie.

For the uninitiated, Sushiro is famous for its tamago" (egg) that travels by Shinkansen bullet train and its wallet-friendly price point (most plates are under RM4). But the real draw is the quality—specifically the fresh salmon and seasonal specials from Japan.

While official opening dates are still under wraps (expect a soft launch in the coming months), the news has already sent sushi lovers into a frenzy. Both locations are high-traffic giants, so expect the signature Sushiro queues to remain, just slightly more convenient.

Whether you are in Bandar Utama or Sunway, you now have a new place to indulge your sushi cravings.

Addendum: The previous version of this article miswrote the location of the Sushiro first branch and the artice has been amended with the corrected information.

KUALA LUMPUR, April 6 — Social media’s algorithm often gives me some weird recommendations but this one about The Ruai Room definitely piqued my interest since Borneo food is rather under-represented here.

Location-wise, it’s also unusual because it is hidden inside Anjung Melayu, an area that houses the Malay Chamber of Commerce Malaysia and is next door to where Tupai Tupai restaurant was once located before it closed down.

The restaurant was built from scratch inside the compound of Anjung Melayu. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

This area known as Bukit Petaling is surrounded by busy roads leading to the Dewan Bahasa and Pustaka area from Jalan Istana, but you can find it as long as you diligently follow Waze’s directions.

The restaurant has links to Eupe Corporation Berhad, which is building a sales gallery next door for its upcoming development project, Circadia at Belfield, along Jalan Istana.

Relax in a rustic designed dining space where the main feature is a thatched roof similar to those found in a Borneo longhouse. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Central to this newly opened place is the charcoal grill, which they use to cook seafood sourced from Borneo, along with meats like chicken wings, lamb shoulder and Wagyu beef.

Even the iconic Ayam Pansuh (300 grams for RM26), a dish often prepared for festivals by the Ibans and Bidayuh, is cooked over the grill.

Chicken pieces mixed with herbs and covered with tapioca leaves are stuffed inside a bamboo tube, which captures the juices from the cooked chicken for a wholesome taste.

A bamboo pavilion next to the restaurant offers shelter (left). This customised charcoal grill allows the restaurant to cater to larger groups (right). — Pictures by Lee Khang Yi

For larger crowds, they use their customised charcoal grill to cook the food in bigger batches.

Select from various grilled items, vegetables and claypot dishes to eat with rice sets accompanied by small side dishes.

Solo diners can opt for their seafood soup noodles with fish belly, grouper meat, mixed seafood, grilled sea tiger prawns, or clams.

Grilled Sotong Katak features perfectly cooked squid paired with a creamy, savoury peanut sauce. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Sotong Katak (RM32 for 500 grams) impresses with perfectly cooked squid — minus the dreaded rubbery bite — and crunchy onions, displaying a chef’s deft control of the wok and fire.

What elevates it to greatness is their signature sauce made with peanuts and flecked with red chilies, which imparts creaminess and a savoury flavour.

For greens, instead of opting for Manicai with Kampung Egg, the Pucuk Paku with Ikan Masin Tenggiri (RM22) which was recommended.

Pucuk Paku with Ikan Masin Tenggiri isn’t your typical boring plate of greens as the tender stems and young leaves are packed with smoky flavours. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Our dish arrived at the table, full of wok hei that enticed one to keep eating the tender stems with young leaves.

You do get some stray woody stems, but the overall taste of these ferntops was well worth it when paired with the crunchy, not-overly-salty ikan masin tenggiri.

Rice sets (RM9.90) featuring a choice of yellow turmeric rice or jasmine rice can be paired with three side dishes, selected from seven choices, such as pucuk ubi, sambal bunga kantan, cili putih ikan masin, keropok dabai, kerabu mangga, telur masin and wagyu lemak bakar.

The Rice Set can be ordered with a choice of turmeric rice or jasmine rice paired with three side dishes, like ‘telur masin’, crispy fried ‘ikan bilis’ and ‘keropok dabai’. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Our generous portion of rice was accompanied by a nutty, savoury keropok dabai, which featured the Borneo olive, salted egg and the off-menu tiny fried ikan bilis with a hint of spiciness.

This place is a keeper indeed and well worth a second visit to explore more of their grilled seafood and a bowl of their seafood noodles.

The Ruai Room

Lot 734, Anjung Melayu,

Jalan Bukit Petaling,

Bukit Petaling, Kuala Lumpur.

Tel: 017-8036383

Open daily: 12pm to 3pm, 5.30pm to 10pm.

Instagram: @theruairoom

Facebook: @theruairoom

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

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

PETALING JAYA, April 5 — Sarawak laksa on a pizza? It sounds like another one of those garish gimmicks that go viral now and then.

What’s next, nasi lemak risotto?

Except it isn’t a gimmick.

Instead, it’s one of the signature pizzas at Songbird Slice, a small pizza joint on the third floor of Infinity Tower in Kelana Jaya.

Save for a pasta bar a few doors down, there’s little else on this near-empty floor, where Songbird has made its nest at the far end.

Songbird Slice is perched in a tiny space on the end of the third floor. — Picture by Ethan Lau

It’d be generous to call this place a pizzeria; with its 16-seat capacity and skeleton crew — the friendly owner Shane Law and one staff member — it feels more like a physical manifestation of your quirky friend finally realising a lifelong passion for pizza, complete with that friend’s eclectic taste in music.

No prizes for guessing what “songbird” refers to: there’s a vinyl collection spanning Florence + The Machine, Duran Duran, and Oasis, though on the night of my visit, he seemed in a particularly indie mood, with the dreamy sounds of Alvvays filling the air.

A Kuching native, Law sprinkles touches of his hometown throughout the space where he can, whether through tuak and Sundrop canned juices, or the Laksa on a Slice (RM42): a white pizza base with fior di latte, topped with all the typical elements of Sarawak laksa — shredded chicken, crispy omelette strips, prawns, coriander, half a calamansi for squeezing, and a bowl of laksa broth on the side for dipping.

Friendly owner Shane Law is the lifeblood of the place, making the dough, tossing the pizza and coming up with all the creative flavours. — Picture by Ethan Lau

I struggled to imagine how this might work.

How does one translate the mildly creamy, savoury, slightly sour profile of Sarawak laksa onto a pizza?

As it turns out, you use a 24-hour fermented dough that’s thin and crisp straight out of the oven, yet still doughy enough to soak up the broth, and pair it with a neutral, lightly creamy cheese like fior di latte so the toppings aren’t overwhelmed.

I was surprised by how much I enjoyed it, and even felt a slight pang of shame that my imagination had been too small to consider it turning out this well.

But I have now seen the light.

Of the five pizzas on the menu, we tried two more.

The first required far less imagination; the ingredient list alone sounded delectable: smoked bacon, fennel sausage, salchichón, honey, and chilli crisp.

As described, the Porkypie (RM40) is a red-based, sweet-and-spicy, porky affair that will appeal to lovers of bold flavours.

The Porkypie is a porky, sweet-spicy affair that’s perfect for lovers of bold flavours. — Picture by Ethan Lau

There’s no shortage of savouriness from the smoked bacon and salchichón (a cured Spanish sausage), but it’s the interplay between the sweetness of honey and the heat of chilli crisp that makes this a clear winner — especially when taken in a single bite with the charred, toasted bubbles along the edges of the crust.

The final pizza of our night was the PB&J (RM36) — and no, it’s not a peanut butter and jelly pizza, though if there were ever a place to try one, this would be it.

Here, “PB&J” stands for potatoes, bacon, and jam, the trio at the heart of this pie: thin slices of russet potato, smoked bacon, and dollops of balsamic onion jam on a white base.

I’m not sure I’ve ever had potatoes on a pizza, but sliced this thinly, they land somewhere between soft and crisp, acting as a canvas for the salty-sweet pairing of bacon and onion jam.

The dark horse here is the streaks of raw red onion, which add a pungent lift to the overall slice.

The PB&J pizza has nothing to do with peanut butter and jelly; instead, it features potatoes, bacon and onion jam. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Aside from pizza, there are a few sharing options, including a gula apong pork (RM36) that’s slow-cooked before being charred in the oven.

It’s a popular choice, and the coleslaw it comes with is excellent, but the meat itself isn’t particularly compelling. I’d recommend sticking to the pizza.

Places like this are easy to root for.

There’s something especially satisfying about seeing a small, owner-operated spot lean fully into its quirks and come out with food that genuinely delivers.

Songbird Slice could have coasted on novelty, but instead pairs its ideas with thoughtful execution, and that makes all the difference.

It helps, too, that Law himself is as warm and unpretentious as the space he’s built — happy to chat, quick with a recommendation, and clearly invested in what he’s doing.

At a time when so much of dining feels shaped by the algorithm — pushing both restaurants and diners toward whatever might catch the most attention — it’s reassuring to encounter a place that feels guided by something more personal.

And that human touch, more than anything in this increasingly inhuman world, should be what keeps any of us wanting to come back.

Songbird Slice

3-7, Infinity Tower,

Jalan SS 6/3,

SS 6, Petaling Jaya.

Open Wednesday to Sunday, 6-10.30pm.

Tel: 017-580 0359

Instagram: @songbird.slice

* 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 musings on food and occasionally self-deprecating humour.

KUALA LUMPUR, April 4 — Beneath the bustle of Bukit Jalil, a different, more deliberate coffee experience is taking shape.

The team behind Afloat Coffee Roaster has introduced a contemporary espresso bar tucked beneath its main café. 

Called Submerge, the space explores a different dimension of their coffee philosophy — one that favours depth, patience and immersion.

For co-founders Loo Choy Leng and Jimmy Leong, the idea had been forming long before the doors opened.

“We have been wanting to start a space that focuses solely on coffee, with no other distractions,” Loo says. “This idea has been with us for about a year and a half, and we wanted to be bold in shaping the experience.”

Submerge’s co-founders Loo Choy Leng and Jimmy Leong also run Afloat Coffee Roasters. — Picture courtesy of Submerge

The result is an intimate room that encourages a slower pace, quite a contrast to the breezier atmosphere upstairs.

“If Afloat celebrates lightness, Submerge celebrates intimacy. A quieter space that invites guests to dive deeper into the coffee experience,” she explains.

That same philosophy carries into the cup.

The more serene setting allows the team to take a considered approach to brewing. At the centre of the opening menu is a concept titled “One Coffee, Two Expressions”, built on the idea that small shifts in extraction can dramatically reshape flavour.

One Coffee, Two Expressions'. — Picture courtesy of Submerge

Each serving begins with a single coffee: an Ethiopian Alo Chilaka 240-hour anaerobic natural. The beans are roasted once, then extracted using two different espresso baskets on a Kees van der Westen Spiritello.

What arrives at the table are two distinct interpretations of the same origin. A side-by-side study, if you will.

“This idea truly reflects our coffee extraction skills,” Loo says. “We believe coffee can have many faces; with just one coffee and one roast, using two different espresso baskets, you can create entirely different interpretations.”

She adds, “It reflects both the character of the coffee and the skill involved in extracting it. The single-group Kees van der Westen Spiritello allows us to push extraction further. Even a 50-second espresso can taste just as balanced and enjoyable.”

It is, in many ways, a gentle demonstration of craft: one that asks the drinker to slow down and pay attention.

'Take a Breather'. — Picture courtesy of Submerge

As with many thoughtful concepts, the response has taken time.

“To be honest, business is still slow at this point,” Loo admits. “Many of our customers are familiar with Afloat, but Submerge still feels new and unfamiliar to them.”

The slower pace, it seems, is not just intentional; it is part of the process.

“Submerge is technically driven, yet paired with close, attentive service. It’s a platform for customers to take their time and fully immerse themselves in the coffee experience.”

Patience, here, is not only a philosophy of service but also of creation.

Loo spent months developing the menu, a process that began during a trip to Milan, where the team travelled to support Malaysian competitor Jason Loo at the World Barista Championship.

She recalls. “We took time to observe the space, the pace, and the flow of people, which gave me a lot of inspiration.”

Those impressions eventually took shape in a series of drinks that extend beyond the expected.

One, in particular, draws from memories of the Italian coastline. Inspired by a visit to Cinque Terre, “Take a Breather” combines juniper berries, pink peppercorn, Earl Grey and CO₂, lending the Ethiopian espresso a gentle effervescence and a subtle, wine-like oakiness.

'Good Things Take Time'. — Picture courtesy of Submerge

“Take a Breather is about reminding ourselves to pause before diving into anything,” Loo says. “It’s a reminder that we need a little courage. And that it can lead us to endless possibilities.”

Another drink reflects the long journey of bringing Submerge to life.

“This drink is a tribute to the 11 months we spent building this space,” she says. “Every small detail had to come together.”

Titled “Good Things Take Time”, it features rum slowly infused with fresh apples and cinnamon sticks, paired with fennel syrup, elderflower tonic and cranberry hibiscus leaves.

“The ingredients are simple, but the flavours are complex — much like life. Good things take time to grow.”

As the concept has evolved, so too have the roles behind it.

While both Loo and Leong built their reputations behind the bar, their focus today increasingly lies in shaping the brand and guiding a younger team. 

The design reflects this shift; the smaller espresso bar creates space for emerging baristas to step forward.

Mixing infused rum with fennel syrup and elderflower tonic. — Picture courtesy of Submerge

“Although I do miss working behind the bar, it’s important to support the next generation by giving them guidance and opportunities,” Loo says. “I truly enjoy mentoring the team and watching them grow into the next wave of talent.”

Beyond daily service, Submerge also hosts coffee masterclasses and offers beans and merchandise for retail — efforts Loo sees as essential to sustaining the industry’s future.

“We strongly believe that education is essential for long-term growth in this industry,” she says.

“Every class we host is designed to spark deeper interest beyond the routine of daily bar work, and to show the wider possibilities of being a coffee professional.”

She acknowledges, however, that in a crowded café landscape, not everyone is seeking that depth.

“The market is quite saturated at the moment, and learning may not be the main focus for most people,” Loo says. “But I believe there will always be a small group who are genuinely interested.”

For now, Submerge remains a tranquil counterpoint to the lively café above — an ongoing exploration of what happens when coffee is given time, space and attention.

And, as the experience gently suggests, some things only begin to reveal themselves once you are willing to slow down and go deeper.

Loo and Leng’s role increasingly centres on mentoring a younger team. — Picture courtesy of Submerge

Submerge

2-15-G, Jalan Jalil Perkasa 13, 

Aked Esplanade, Bukit Jalil, KL.

Open Thu-Sun 3pm-10:30pm

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