SUBANG JAYA, Sept 23 — In Japan, the hamburger steak can be found in yoshoku (Japanese-Western) restaurants or even in home kitchens.

Hambagu as it’s referred to in Japan, isn’t a steak made from a single piece of meat but is fashioned from minced meat shaped into patties. 

No bun is used, rice is the chosen accompaniment for the hambagu. 

It is typically served with a rich brown sauce, known as demi-glace. Variations include pairing it with curry and even tomato sauce. 

Hikiniku to Come changed all this the moment they opened their doors in Japan in 2019 with the philosophy: “Just ground. Just grilled. Just cooked.” 

Wagyu beef patties are made from freshly ground beef and grilled over a smoky fire allowing you to enjoy them at their prime.

Shohei Yamamoto devised the concept with his partners, Toshiyuki Kiyomiya and Toshiyuki Konishi, pushing that Japanese philosophy to focus on one item and take it to its absolute best. 

The brand has spread from multiple locations in Japan to Taiwan, Korea, Hong Kong, Thailand, Indonesia, the Philippines, and Singapore with Malaysia being the latest addition. 

When you arrive at the Sunway Pyramid outlet, you may encounter a queue that starts from 10am before the place opens at 11am. 

On weekdays, the queue is shorter. If there’s no backlog of people waiting, you will be seated quickly once a spot is available. 

You get your own personal grill in front of your seat that keeps the patty warm.

Weekends have a higher volume of diners. They manage the queue by asking customers to book their preferred time slots, allowing you to shop in the mall while you wait.

Ordering is done at the kiosk and a staff member will guide you to select your choices. 

Everyone must order the set for RM67.90, which includes three Wagyu hamburger steaks (each weighing 90 grams), a raw egg, unlimited refills of Japanese rice, miso soup and daikon oroshi — their homemade ponzu vinegar paired with freshly grated radish. 

Add-ons like a kimchi salad, minced meat potato salad (RM8.90) and their signature sauce (RM4.90) can also be ordered, but the set is sufficient since they already provide an assortment of toppings and seasonings at your seat. 

Staff will lead you to your seat at a round-shaped counter surrounding a grill. 

You will walk past an enclosed chilled room where workers diligently prepare the patties. 

Every patty is freshly ground in-house daily and shaped with their rubber gloved hands.

According to Business World from the Philippines, each country has its own recipe for the patties, known only to the founder. 

While the ingredient ratios are unknown, Hikiniku to Come in Malaysia confirmed in a social media post that their Wagyu patties are made from 100 per cent beef.

Refreshing radish (left) with their homemade 'ponzu' vinegar, served with your second beef patty. Minced meat potato salad (right) can also be ordered to accompany your meal.

Once you sit down, the server explains everything so quickly that the load of information may bewilder you. 

Thankfully, a card inside the drawer provides detailed information. 

You get your miso soup and a bowl of freshly cooked rice scooped from the hagama pot. 

It’s a three-part experience course to enjoy the hamburger steaks in various ways. 

First, enjoy the patty on its own, delivered straight from the main grill to the small grill in front of you that keeps it warm. 

Putting the patty on the bowl of rice lets the grains catch the juices that ooze out the moment you squeeze the patty with your chopsticks. 

It’s incredibly juicy as you bite through the charred crust to relish the beefy flavour. 

The last beef patty is topped with an egg yolk that oozes golden happiness over the meat-and-rice combination.

Various condiments are on hand to enhance the experience: crunchy fried garlic flakes, Mou’s Xinjiang spice mix for heat, oil-marinated green chilli for a spicy kick, salted lemon with green chilli pepper to cut through the richness and Japanese pepper sauce. 

The salted lemon is my pick to relieve the palate from the beef patty’s richness.

Once you finish the first patty, the second beef patty arrives at your personal grill, together with a bowl of grated radish and their homemade ponzu vinegar. 

The crunchy radish adds a freshness as you pour the ponzu vinegar over it, making it my favourite combination. 

I slowly relish every bit of the patty, which takes on a different taste with the radish. 

Once you finish, it’s the swan song for the last patty, which is the egg yolk version.

The Japanese are particular about how one should eat rice at the table, forbidding soy sauce from touching the grains. 

However, for the hamburger steak on rice, you’re exempted from those rules so add soy flakes and top it with the egg yolk for a super rich experience. 

As the golden yolk oozes over the patty, it becomes a rich sauce with a beefy flavour. 

It drips down the rice, transforming the grains yellow and giving it a decadent flavour. 

Those with bigger appetites can also order extra hamburger steak.  

Prior to Hikiniku to Come’s opening, copycats had already appeared in Kuala Lumpur, attempting to mimic this similar concept of hamburger steak on rice, cooked right in front of you. 

While they can follow the same method, they falter badly with the patty because it’s never as juicy and decadent as Hikiniku to Come’s. 

The set-up is minimalist with a round-shaped counter surrounding the charcoal grill to give you a front row view of the cooking action.

Even their condiments aren’t as numerous compared to the spread at Hikiniku to Come, which is a major part of the whole experience.

Looking at other places’ pricing, they offer a variety of Angus beef, Japanese Wagyu beef and chicken patties, where three hamburger steaks cost RM74 with unlimited Japanese rice, miso soup and vegetables. 

Your pasteurised egg yolk is an add-on for RM3. 

All this makes Hikiniku to Come’s RM67.90 set reasonable. 

If you plan properly to shop at Sunway Pyramid while you wait for your turn, the whole dining experience will be incredibly enjoyable.

Hikiniku to Come

G1.111, Ground Floor, 

Sunway Pyramid, 

3, Jalan PJS 11/15, 

Bandar Sunway, Subang Jaya.

Open daily: 11am to 9.15pm.

Same-day booking opens at 10am on a first-come, first-served basis.

Instagram: @hikiniku_to_come_myofficial

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

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

SHAH ALAM, Sept 22 — What happens when a viral food trend lands in the hands of bakers who can’t help but try and make it better?

In Cake Jalan Tiung’s case, the result is a butter tteok that is darker, crunchier and more dessert-like than the versions elsewhere.

Made with glutinous rice flour and plenty of butter, the Korean-inspired baked rice cake has taken the internet by storm, from South Korea to Malaysia. (The tteok in its name translates to “rice cake” in Korean.)

“The first bite is the edge: deeply crispy and caramelised, with a rich buttery aroma,” says Hidzad Bin Lahuree, who runs the Shah Alam bakery with his wife, Nur Shafinaz Binti Abdul Rahman. “Then it gives way to a light interior with a slightly mochi-like chewiness.”

The combination is clearly compelling: crunchy, caramelised, chewy, and a little char from the oven. Really, what’s not to like?

Hidzad Bin Lahuree runs the Shah Alam bakery with his wife, Nur Shafinaz Binti Abdul Rahman.

There is also another factor at play: our country’s continuing fascination with South Korean culture.

Hidzad says, “From K-dramas and K-pop to skincare, cafés and food, anything South Korean is very much in vogue in Malaysia right now. Butter tteok arrived riding that wave.”

But the Korean connection alone would not be enough to explain the craze in Malaysia.

“We love chewy things here, so it feels familiar, but the crisp edge makes it feel new,” Hidzad explains.

The simple flavour profile also helps: butter, a hint of sweetness and a deeply browned exterior. Simple yet far from straightforward. There’s just something irresistible about these buttery rice cakes.

Hidzad says, “It’s a trend that happens to taste really good, and amazingly simple clean flavours which is very rare.”

Crispy and caramelised outside, slightly chewy like 'mochi' inside.

He adds, “Butter tteok is also very social-media friendly, because when you break a piece open you see that golden crust and soft centre.”

Cake Jalan Tiung itself only came across the trend recently. Hidzad confesses, “Here’s a fun fact: neither of us has ever tried butter tteok in South Korea!”

Like many others, the couple encountered it through social media, where the buzz was enough to spark their curiosity. They began experimenting with their own version nearly two months ago.

But the first attempts did not quite satisfy them. Hidzad recalls, “To our palate they tasted too much of glutinous rice, too ‘pulut’, if that makes sense.”

For a bakery better known for pastries and desserts, that was a challenge they were ready to take on.

Rather than simply reproduce what was already popular, Hidzad wanted “something closer to a dessert, so we reworked it until it was almost like a very crunchy canelé.”

It took about four rounds of testing before Cake Jalan Tiung was happy with the taste and appearance.

That relatively short development period belies the precision involved: the bakery was not merely trying to make a rice cake with a crisp outside, but one with a very particular contrast between crust and centre.

Fresh from the oven (left). A small serving of condensed milk on the side for dipping (right).

Cake Jalan Tiung’s version — which comes with a small serving of condensed milk on the side for dipping, adding a little extra indulgence — has proven to be remarkably popular.

“Within two weeks of launching, it became a smash bestseller,” Hidzad says. “In August alone we sold around 4,000 sets.”

The difference between Cake Jalan Tiung’s version and other butter tteok is immediately apparent. The bakery deliberately bakes its rice cakes darker, creating a deeply browned shell with a slightly imperfect appearance.

“It’s our signature Cake Jalan Tiung style: we bake darker,” Hidzad explains. “That gives a crisp outer shell and a rustic look, with a light airy interior underneath.”

There is also another detail that might not be obvious immediately. Hidzad shares, “It has an almost mochi texture inside but we don’t use any mochi. Instead it comes from using tapioca flour.”

Again, simple but not always straightforward. Take getting the exterior just right; this requires more than simply baking until the cakes turn dark.

Hidzad says the deep, crisp crust needs a high-end oven, which is “why we use an Unox, plus special trays that can handle very high temperatures.”

This approach reflects Cake Jalan Tiung’s philosophy of marrying flavours and textures that feel both familiar and slightly unexpected, such as their now iconic pandan and gula Melaka croissant, but never chasing novelty for its own sake.

“We’re bakers first,” says Hidzad. “So we treat butter tteok the way we treat everything else at Cake Jalan Tiung, with attention to colour, crust and texture.”

For their butter tteok, that means keeping the flavour deliberately clean. This, Hidzad says, means “real high quality French butter and restrained sweetness, with the sweetness in the background instead of taking over.”

That also explains why the cakes are left looking almost deliberately unfinished.

“Rustic elegance means we don’t over-decorate,” he says. “It comes out dark golden and slightly imperfect, and that’s part of its charm.”

Cake Jalan Tiung makes around 450 pieces every day and sells out almost daily.

So you might not necessarily reach for the prettiest piece.

“The ideal one, at its freshest, has a shell that crackles when you bite it, then a light warm interior with a slightly mochi-like chewiness, and butter on the finish rather than sugar.”

Indeed, that freshness is crucial. Like many baked goods built around texture, butter tteok is at its best soon after it comes out of the oven.

Today, Cake Jalan Tiung makes around 450 pieces every day, which is 150 sets of three pieces each. They are available from 10:30am and sell out almost daily.

From Seoul to Shah Alam, butter tteok is clearly a new feather in Cake Jalan Tiung’s cap.

But perhaps more importantly, it is also a way for this hardworking duo to give their customers more reason to smile.

Or as Hidzad puts it: “You should feel comforted and always want another piece.”

Cake Jalan Tiung

No. 9, Jalan Sukun 4/7, 

Seksyen 4, Shah Alam.

Open daily (except Thu closed) 8am–6pm

Phone: 012-878 7258

Web: cakejalantiung.com

IG: instagram.com/cakejalantiung/

FB: facebook.com/cakejalantiung/

PETALING JAYA, Sept 21 — It’s 5.30pm on a Sunday.

You walk into Lek by Lalachong, which is said to open at 5:30pm, but almost every table is filled with diners. Some are already tucking into their dinner.

Barely a month old, the newcomer is pulling the crowd with its family ties to the 31-year-old Lala Chong Seafood Restaurant (Lala Chong) which built its reputation on fresh seafood.

The face behind Lek is Chrysann Yim, the daughter of Lala Chong’s owner, Yim Sie Chong who picked up the nickname “Lala Chong” for his expertise in handling clams.

She brings a fresh perspective to typical seafood establishments with a menu that blends local favourites with Thai and Indonesian flavours.

On every table, a plate of crabs takes the prized centre spot like a favourite child as it’s their grand opening special: two extra large crabs cooked with your choice of flavour from the menu for RM88, valid until September 30 or as they disclaim in the notice till stocks last.

It’s a steal worth ordering as the sweet flesh is easily extracted from the crab’s body and claws.

However, you won’t get orange roe, as these are not that type of crab. But hey, it’s probably better since the roe is armed with cholesterol that could possibly make you start taking statins.

Ayam Goreng Kunyit Sambal Merah is the sleeper hit with juicy meat scented with turmeric powder and that mind blowing chilli sauce. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Familiar choices like salted egg, chili sauce, sweet and sour, buttermilk and kam heong (fragrant sauce) can be ordered. Since Thai-style curry isn’t your typical pairing, that was what we focused on.

It’s a drier curry that may disappoint those looking forward to copious sauce drenching the crabs for dipping their fluffy deep fried mantou buns.

Instead, it’s more like a fluffy omelette scented with a sweeter Thai spice paste stir-fried with the crabs and a jumble of curry leaves, onions and chili.

This may be a neat freak’s dream crab dish, since it doesn’t leave your fingers covered in sauce as you extract every bit of flesh.

BBQ Stingray Fish gets the smoky makeover penetrating every piece so you can slowly relish it with their spicy sauce. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Seafood-focused restaurants often dismiss other proteins, making it seem like an unwritten rule not to order side dishes like chicken.

Ayam Goreng Kunyit Sambal Merah (RM20) defies that.

Use your fingers to tear through the golden fried chicken dusted with turmeric powder to discover a juicy chook that will leave other famous chicken brands crowing away.

The secret is probably a freshly slaughtered chicken at its prime since the bone is pristine and not darkened with time.

Superior Soup Lala still holds supreme with its creamy molluscs served in a milky broth laced with sesame oil. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

It doesn’t stop there as next to it is a bright red chunky chilli sauce with head-blowing heat that is strangely reminiscent of ayam gepuk, the darling of the F&B scene that people love to squander their time for in long queues.

Who doesn’t love flame licked seafood and protein, the popular supper dish when night falls?

BBQ Stingray Fish (RM60) hits hard; its time over the fire imparts an unmistakable smokiness clinging to its flesh.

The fish is cut into pieces, allowing the smoky flavour to penetrate better and making it easier for many hands to share communally, and cooked with a spicy sauce, a squeeze of lime and raw onions for freshness.

Lala Kuey Teow may have fewer clams, but the hero is the smoky scented noodles slick with the eggy sauce. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

We also dutifully ordered their signature Superior Soup Lala (RM25) with plump molluscs cradled in thick white shells, swimming in a milky looking broth laced with sesame oil and whole green chilies.

Sharp-eyed diners may notice the disparity in the number of clams if they place the Superior Soup Lala side-by-side with their Lala Kuey Teow (RM30) but the latter dish seems to celebrate the flat ribbons more with its smokiness and eggy sauce, making the clams just a side act.

Greens tend to be an afterthought, more like a chore one orders to appease the elders to be “healthy,” but their Paku Cold Salad with Ikan Bilis from Pulau Pangkor (RM20) is a worthy dish to get the good-for-you fibre you need.

Paku Cold Salad with Ikan Bilis from Pulau Pangkor is the type of greens you can happily eat to get your much needed fibre. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Tangy. Crunchy. These fern fronds get a hit of flavour with the fried ikan bilis lightly coated with sugar for a shattering crispy bite.

Thai Lemongrass Prawn (RM55) is for those tired of working their fingers on the crabs as it’s shell-less and coated in a lemongrass sauce, making it easy to pop in the mouth.

Weekends see overwhelming crowds especially on Sunday nights, when almost every family declares the home kitchen is on holiday.

Thankfully, it was quieter on a Friday evening.

Thai Lemongrass Prawn (left) you can pop like candy. Sunday night (right) is when every family takes over the dining room for their weekend treat. — Pictures by Lee Khang Yi

If you sit outside, there’s more space to stretch out and you won’t feel packed in like sardines in a can, especially when a child decides to throw a screaming fit while you’re struggling to eat your noodles.

Gigantic stand fans are also around, blowing air to cool you down as you slowly savour every bit of the sweet flesh from the crabs.

What’s most amazing is how the service staff remain serene amid the chaos while food comes out quickly from the kitchen.

That kind of service is probably why many, including us, will keep returning again and again.

Their location in the dining enclave of Ara Permata means you can easily wander around for an after-dinner drink or even dessert at neighbouring places. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Lek by Lalachong

8, Jalan PJU 1A/42A,

Ara Permata,

Ara Damansara, Petaling Jaya.

Open: 11am to 2.30pm. 5.30pm to 10.30pm. Closed on Tuesdays.

Tel: 011-55520316

Facebook: @Lekseafood

Instagram: @lekseafood_

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

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

KUALA LUMPUR, Sep 20 — When I wrote about the surge in bistros opening up in the Klang Valley a few months ago, I could have swapped just about every mention of “bistro” for “steak frites”, and the story would’ve still worked. 

In fact, it probably would’ve covered an even wider range of eateries; such is the portability of the dish that it turns up in all shapes and sizes, from the classic version in all-day bistros to budget-friendly variants in cafes and even loosely inspired renditions in shawarma joints.

Beef, it would seem, is what’s for dinner. And KL is mad about steak frites.

But where do you go for something more refined — something fit for a special occasion, like my mother’s birthday?

For my money, the most refined steak frites you’ll find in KL comes from a fine-dining kitchen.

Set within Potager, the interior doesn’t immediately evoke Parisian steakhouse flair — and that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Potager, the French ode to Malaysian produce headed by chef Masashi Horiuchi, began cashing in on the new wave of steak frites at the start of the year with L’entrecôte de Potager, a casual offshoot devoted to the one dish. 

The name is a reference to the entrecôte, a term intertwined with the history of steak frites in more ways than one: first, as the cut of beef that corresponds to a boneless rib eye — entrecôte translates to “between the ribs” — and second, as the nickname of Paul Gineste de Saurs’ seminal Le Relais de Venise, which became a Paris institution by doing nothing but steak frites.

The restaurant inspired three separate groups of successors, all with “L’entrecôte” in their names in some form, and all serving steak frites the same way Le Relais de Venise did: a salad to start, then steak frites made with contre-filet (sirloin) and served with Café de Paris sauce, and a selection of desserts to finish. 

The sauce takes its name from Café de Paris in Geneva, which invented entrecôte Café de Paris in the 1930s.

L’entrecôte de Potager stays mostly true to the tradition. The three-course L’entrecôte Experience, priced at RM250 per person, starts with corn soup and a garden salad, then moves on to a Black Angus sirloin with Café de Paris-style sauce and triple-cooked tallow fries. 

Desserts are available à la carte. For those who want to splurge, there are pricier alternatives with turbot and blue lobster, as well as a T-bone for two and prime rib for three.

Much of the marketing describes the restaurant as the closest thing to a Parisian steakhouse experience in KL, but I beg to differ. 

Set within the Potager space, the dining area is roomier, sleeker and a lot more modern than what you’d classically find in Paris, swapping white tablecloths and red leather seats for a muted taupe-and-grey scheme.

The meal starts with a clean, creamy corn soup. — Picture by Ethan Lau

The meal begins with a corn soup that’s sweet, smooth and slightly creamy, with the mouthfeel of a very light velouté and a very clean taste of corn. 

The garden salad that follows is a seasonal showcase of Potager’s produce, with lettuce, shallots, strawberries, figs and candied pumpkin seeds, plus big, crunchy croutons.

Sirloin isn’t my favourite cut — it’s a touch lean for my taste — but the best thing about steak frites in this style is that the steak doesn’t really matter. It’s just a vessel for an excellent sauce. 

Still, the cuisson of the steak was a perfect medium rare, but the sauce is the true star. 

The garden salad showcases seasonal picks from Potager’s garden. At this time of year, strawberries, figs and candied pumpkin seeds were featured. — Picture by Ethan Lau

There’s a bright punch of parsley laid atop, then the sauce itself, which is rich, creamy and strong with mustard. 

The original Café de Paris recipe calls for chicken livers, and while I’m not sure that’s the case here, it tastes like it’s been mounted with bone marrow or tallow on top of the butter, which gives it that ultra-rich mouthfeel. 

Each piece of steak is the ideal mop for the thick, unctuous substance that is this fantastic sauce.

The triple-cooked fries are fried in tallow, and they’re every bit as important as the steak, if not more so. 

Crisp, fluffy and perfectly salted, they’re bona fide addictive, and you get a colossal mountain of them. 

A heaping helping of triple-cooked tallow fries. — Picture by Ethan Lau

It was too much even for three of us, but they tasted just as good reheated the next day. Praise be for air fryers.

My mother thoroughly enjoyed her birthday, and my father and I both got to take home a good amount of brownie points together with our doggy bag of frites.

For RM250 a head, you get the feel of a fine-dining restaurant and the kitchen behind it, steak, a sauce worth its weight in gold and a mountain of fries that lasts into the next day.

It isn’t Paris, and it shouldn’t have to be. It’s the most refined steak frites I’ve found in KL — and the only thing that doesn’t say fine dining is the bill.

L’entrecôte de Potager

P11, Bamboo Hills, 

Taman Bamboo, 

Segambut, Kuala Lumpur.

Open daily, 12-3pm, 6-10pm

Tel: 012-623 3152

https://potagerkl.com/entrecotekl/

Instagram: @entrecote.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 steak frites and more.

KUALA LUMPUR, Sept 19 — There are treasures wherever we look: from vinyl records to vintage dolls. Every corner reveals another nostalgic surprise.

There’s a Ghostbusters original soundtrack album from Japan on one shelf. Hanging nearby is a bootleg plaque of Tintin au Vietnam (no such book exists; Hergé never wrote an adventure featuring everyone’s favourite boy reporter in Vietnam).

Every new piece of memorabilia we discover is a test of trivia or a call to investigate; every revelation more satisfying than we could ever imagine.

I even spot the iconic Classic Black Kit-Cat Clock, first made in the USA in the 1950s. Slight creepy with its rolling eyes and wagging tail, but that’s if you even see it.

Blink and you’d miss it; there are so many mementos to catch your eye.

Which is the appeal of General Store in Kuchai Lama, a shop that offers collectibles, crafts and coffee in a café setting.

Bric-a-brac galore, from Batman posters to skateboards. — Picture by CK Lim

There is bric-a-brac galore, from Batman posters to skateboards. But exploring the curated goods further will have to wait; first: coffee, please.

We take the safe route: a long black and flat white. Just enough caffeine to wake us up properly. It’s early enough for a weekend that, though the sunlight is pouring in through the windows, we still remember the comfort of our pillows.

Long black and flat white. — Picture by CK Lim

Coffee consumed, time for food. The menu here is full of bountiful bakes, from sourdough breads and focaccia to cakes, doughnuts and pastries. So many choices.

In the end, we decided on lighter items since we have an early brunch appointment afterwards.

So instead of a massive focaccia sandwich stuffed with tomatoes, rocket and cheese, we went for a more minimalist platter of espresso walnut sourdough bread with butter.

Espresso walnut sourdough bread with butter. — Picture by CK Lim

The dark coffee flavours really come through each slice of bread; the nuggets of walnuts add a tender crunch. Spread the thin discs of butter and every bite feels almost indulgent.

Croissant or chocolate fudge cake? Perhaps something savoury: so the cheese sausage twist it is. Flaky and substantial enough to tide us over till brunch.

Cheese sausage twist. — Picture by CK Lim

The real draw might be to let your eyes wander even as you sip your coffee slowly. Every angle, every turn, promises new discoveries.

On one concrete pillar, Nippon nostalgia abounds, from a framed print of Osamu Tezuka’s Astro Boy to stickers of Godzilla and the Tokyo Tower.

Across the room, a “widescreen” pegboard acts as the backdrop for an eclectic assortment of contemporary collectibles and retro ephemera: Purple Rain by Prince, a vertical print of The Great Wave off Kanagawa, Star Wars figurines, a poster of the 1962 epic Western How the West Was Won and more.

Nippon nostalgia: Osamu Tezuka’s Astro Boy (left), Godzilla and Tokyo Tower (right). — Picture by CK Lim

Where else might Betty Boop share the same space as Bruno race cars?

Such decorative flourishes create an ambience appropriate for all manner of creative activities. Just the weekend before, our barista tells us, there was a group journaling session. Other gatherings run the gamut from social chess clubs to tattoo art events.

More than a third place, then. More than coffee, collectibles and cakes, General Store is a place for the community. A true community café.

Betty Boop, Bruno race cars and more decorate the pegboard. — Picture by CK Lim

General Store

1-3, Dataran Loka, 

Jalan Kuchai Lama, 

Taman Continental, KL

Open Mon–Fri 10am–6pm, Sat & Sun 9am–8pm

Phone: 012-232 8373

Web: https://www.generalstore.my/

IG: https://www.instagram.com/generalstore.my/

FB: https://www.facebook.com/generalstore.com.my/

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

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

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

KUALA LUMPUR, Sept 18 — When Mee Bebola Ikan Pak Cik Tong went viral in March, I was keen on the provenance of their local seafood, sourced from their own farm. 

Their openness in sharing this was also a plus point, exposing many to what forms the backbone of their noodle bowls: their signature broth, which uses yam bean, dried flounder, fish bones, chicken bones, and dried scallops. 

It’s not your larger 50-cent dried scallops but tiny baby ones. 

Noodles tossed in a special dried shrimp sauce have a stronger flavour. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi 

While they aren’t premium grade and don’t provide a deeper flavour, the smaller scallops spike the broth with a lighter umami flavour. 

The dried scallops are also removed from the soup pot, shredded and used to top the noodles. 

Fresh Live Seafood Party Noodles (RM18.90) is a good starting point for first-timers, as the bowl is piled with fresh prawns, fish slices, fishballs, white clams and dried squid strips.

Once tossed with the dark sauce (left) this coats the noodles for a bouncy, savoury bite. Homemade Ikan Parang fish balls are wobbly, soft bites (right) made with wolf herring fish. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

The clear broth has a sweetness that isn’t artificially enhanced, perfectly complementing the light flavours from the seafood. 

You can also order extras of the “live” seafood, such as white clams and prawns. Cooked crabs are also available. 

Palates that prefer heavier flavours can consider their tangy asam broth or dry noodles tossed in a special dried shrimp sauce. 

Snack away on Fried White Pomfret in mini size for maximum crunch of the fine bones. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

The thick, black sauce when mixed with the noodles gives each strand a savoury flavour. 

Homemade Ikan Parang Fish Ball  Noodles (RM10.50), which uses wolf herring fish has a softer, wobbly bite due to less flour used. 

There are also Signature Fish Balls. 

Small ‘ikan bulus’ or whiting fish can also be ordered as a side dish. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Gym-goers or those cutting carbohydrates can consider their Protein Brunch (RM16.90), which includes eggs, fish balls, prawns, fish slices, brown squid, scallops and vegetables served with a clear soup. 

The fun part is their side orders and I often see big groups indulging in their Sashimi imported Japanese oysters (RM18.90 per piece) — snapping photos and slurping the huge molluscs for social media 

My side orders are more modest, befitting my wallet and veer towards the deep-fried fish for RM14.90 like the white pomfret or ikan bulus. 

Dine in a retro setting harking back to the 1980s with posters of idols from that era and their famous tunes playing as you tuck into the noodles. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi 

Both fish are deep-fried to a golden crunchiness, perfect for leisurely snacking from tail to head, inclusive of their fine bones. 

Dip it in the homemade chilli sauce that doesn’t tone down the heat or just crunch down on the fish as is. 

Whichever way you choose is supremely satisfying, leaving you planning the next visit. 

Slightly away from the shops, this building nearer to the post office has ample parking at the side road leading to this building. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Those who love retro Chinese tunes will also tap their feet or sing along to classic songs from the 1980s, under photographs of their idols like Teresa Teng, Andy Lau and Alan Tam, which decorate the walls. 

The space also does double duty: during the day, it is Restoran Mee Bebola Pak Cik Tong but when the sun goes down, it becomes Jinjang Roadside Lalapot where hotpot is reimagined with clams. 

Fans will be happy to hear they’re spreadiing their wings with a new offshoot in Jalan Ipoh with a largely similar menu.

For those who live in Puchong, their outlet will open anytime soon and is expected to be along Persiaran Bandar Metro Puchong. 

Restoran Mee Bebola Ikan Pak Cik Tong

Unit G-A1, Ground Floor, 

Lot 81338 No. R1, Jalan Kepong, 

Jinjang Utama, Kuala Lumpur.

Open daily: 9am to 4pm. 

Tel: 011-37666620

Fourth Mile, 643, Jalan Sultan Azlan Shah, Taman Rainbow, Kuala Lumpur

Open daily: 7am to 4pm

Tel: 012- 2906677

Facebook: @sevenumamihouse

Instagram:@uncle_tong_seafood

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

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

PETALING JAYA, Sep 17 — Happy belated Malaysia Day. I hope you were able to stay safe from the haze, show off your allegiance to the country by bidding for special car plates, or at the very least, hand over your hard-earned money to corporations pretending to care about Malaysian history by incorporating it into a promotional campaign. 

No, no, I get it — the drink is only RM6.30. It’s very clever.

In some ways, this article risks being guilty of the same contrived approach: a nasi lemak story any other time of year is unremarkable; a nasi lemak story one day removed from the two most patriotic — publicly anyway — weeks in the national calendar is just a little too convenient. 

But I’ve been thinking about what it means to be Malaysian, and specifically, what it means to eat like a Malaysian. 

As a country, we’ve anointed nasi lemak as our national dish, a symbol of Malaysian-ness, and in turn it has permeated every level of our rapidly changing society. 

Today, one can eat nasi lemak anywhere, from roadside stalls and fast food outlets to the swankiest of hotel restaurants.

Now, simply eating nasi lemak does not a Malaysian make. 

You can find Nasi Lemak Abu parked on the designated “Smark Trak” bays in front of the Qualitas clinic in Dataran Glomac. — Pictures by Ethan Lau

And while I’m not here to police how people eat, choosing to eat nasi lemak exclusively within a bubble utterly divorced from the community that traditionally makes it is a symptom of our fragmented reality — and, worse yet, it pretty much guarantees a lifetime of mediocre nasi lemak.

But a bubble is just that — a bubble. Invisible and fragile, it doesn’t take a poke, so much as a whisper, to pop it. 

A single stop is all it takes to unlearn a preference that had long since calcified into bias. 

Which brings me to Nasi Lemak Abu, a truck parked outside Dataran Glomac in Kelana Jaya. 

It sits just across the LDP from Paradigm Mall, and only a few minutes’ drive from some of the Klang Valley’s most talked-up nasi lemak joints, where the only thing more insufferable than the queue is the bottled-up social media hype spilling out of its gormless patrons.

Before sunrise is the best time to arrive, when the trays of many different ‘lauk’ are still mostly full and ripe for the picking. — Pictures by Ethan Lau

Nasi Lemak Abu opens at 6.15am to serve the masses that keep the city running before the rest of us wake up. 

Rather than a queue, it’s a loose gaggle of people zipping by in the dark to bungkus their breakfast or lunch — delivery riders, security guards, office workers, even early risers walking over from the neighbourhood. 

By the time the street parking fills after 8.30am, the reserves of lauk have largely dwindled. 

Staples like ayam goreng and sambal sotong won’t run out until they close at 10.30am or 11am, but to get a taste of the real treasures, like ayam masak merah and ayam rendang, showing up before the sun is out is a necessity.

Like the sloth that I am, I showed up well after 8.30am the first time and had to settle for nasi lemak ayam goreng with sambal sotong (RM9.50), although the kakak was nice enough to tell me to come back earlier the next time to get first dibs on the full spread. 

‘Ayam masak merah’, ‘paru goreng’ and ‘begedil’ were my breakfast of choice. — Pictures by Ethan Lau

I set an alarm and returned the following day, and happily headed home with my bags of nasi lemak ayam masak merah, paru goreng and begedil and nasi lemak ayam rendang, sambal sotong and begedil for RM21. 

The rice is fragrant enough to smell before you’ve unwrapped the parcel, rich with coconut milk and still fluffy after sitting tightly packed for the better part of an hour. 

The sambal is legitimately pedas, cut with enough sweetness from the onions and a savoury backbone that keeps it from being one-note. 

Even if they served nothing else, Abu is one of the few nasi lemak stalls still worth the detour for the quality of their rice and sambal alone. 

And yet, the lauk impresses too. The ayam masak merah is nothing like the cloyingly sweet versions that pass for masak merah elsewhere; instead, it packs real heat and oomph. 

The ‘sotong sambal’ and ‘begedil’ are good, but the ‘ayam rendang’ is truly great. — Pictures by Ethan Lau

The paru goreng is crisp without the pieces of lung drying out; the begedil are soft, small potato fritters done right, and the sotong in the sambal is cooked to just springy, avoiding the rubber-band texture squid usually turns into. 

But the rendang — my goodness, the rendang! Despite the light colour of the gravy, the depth of flavour it holds is crazy, with lemongrass and galangal doing the heavy lifting. Many places can’t hold a candle to this. 

The encouraging, yet simultaneously frustrating truth about these insular eating bubbles is that the lines often aren’t physically tangible, geographic boundaries. 

They’re preferences that turn into habits, and habits that turn into implicit bias. Nasi Lemak Abu isn’t some out-of-the-way, inconvenient trek from the rest of these hyped-up spots. 

They’re all, more or less, in the same vicinity. If anything, it serves as a reminder of how we often live shared, but very parallel lives. 

We occupy the same Malaysia, but don’t experience it the same way. 

I don’t know what to do about that. But we can at least try to meet one another at the dinner table. 

I’m reminded of a line uttered by a security guard, Mr Singh, in P. Ramlee’s 1961 film, Seniman Bujang Lapok.

“Lu punya nasib, lu makan. Dia punya nasib, dia makan. Apa salah lu makan sama-sama?”

Nasi Lemak Abu

Jalan SS 6/3, 

SS 6, Petaling Jaya 

(in front of Qualitas, Dataran Glomac)

Open Monday to Saturday, 6.15am — 10.30am

Tel: 012-353 8708

* 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 meditations on nasi lemak.

PETALING JAYA, Sept 16 — In this era where hype food like blue-coloured pasta and “bulu bulu” hairy cake pulls in diners out of curiosity and for their social media, it’s refreshing to find a humble restaurant serving good food for the neighbourhood. 

MaMa Lee’s Home Cooked Kitchen definitely embodies the evergreen allure of home-style, family meals. 

Opened in May, the restaurant’s awkward location in SS2 — in front of a very busy road with little parking — has led them to employ the magical words, “peng, cheng and leng,” literally translated as cheap and nice. 

Strictly for weekdays, one can order a tilapia fish for RM25, compared to the usual price of RM6 per 100 grams, which would have cost me RM42. There’s a catch: you must post a Google review to qualify for the deal.

Ten different sauces are on offer, either steamed or fried, ensuring you don’t get bored if this place becomes your regular canteen.

For those looking for a great deal, the restaurant runs a weekday dine-in promotion: RM25 for tilapia fish, provided you leave a Google review. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Their Lemon Thai steamed fish is a popular pick for many but I decided to try the second most ordered Nyonya curry. 

The butterflied fish sits in a pool of orange curry with vegetables like eggplant, long beans and winged beans. 

The flesh is smooth, especially around the belly as the fragrant curry with a little heat infuses it with flavour that calls for more rice. 

We also appreciated how the vegetables were cooked to a softer consistency, probably because they prepped the curry with vegetables ahead of time. 

Most restaurants don’t do this; they always throw in the vegetables at the last moment leaving them partly cooked and semi-hard. .

When you spot an entire page in the menu dedicated to yam ring with various toppings, it’s definitely a sign you must order this classic Chinese dish.

The restaurant spans two floors and seating is a mix of round family-style tables and square tables for smaller groups. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Indeed the Sweet & Sour Pork Yam Ring (RM32) is a gorgeous rendition not for its looks but for the creamy texture when you start eating it. 

These yam rings are prepped ahead and then fried when ordered.

A firmer bite signals a higher flour ratio, which ruins the enjoyment of this dish — the usual texture found in most places.   

There is the conventional Kung Pao Chicken with its nuggets of chicken and nuts plus dried chilies, but I wanted to try the sweet and sour pork; this dish allowed me to sample both items in one order.

The pork is tender and lightly coated with batter, yielding a softer bite drenched in sauce that balances the sweet tomato sauce well with the vinegar.

Winged Bean with Lotus Root isn’t conventional and offers a fresh change from typical greens, featuring crunchiness and tender, finer beans. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Most restaurants treat greens as an afterthought, but once in a while, you spot a different dish like Winged Bean with Lotus Root (RM18 for small, RM28 for medium). 

The four angled beans are sliced and stir fried with minced pork, aromatics like garlic and chilies, plus the unusual sliced lotus root, producing a crunchier dish than your normal plate of greens. 

What makes this dish exceptional is the restaurant insists on using younger, finer beans, which aren’t woody like the older ones, providing a gentler crunch. 

In general, the food here definitely reminds one of home cooking because they use salt and oil sparingly, much like how a mother cooks for her family with care.

The people behind this restaurant also operate Tien Xia Restaurant at Aurora Place, Bukit Jalil.

As it sits next to the busy road with traffic lights, it doesn’t need much advertising. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Restoran MaMa Lee’s Home Cooked Kitchen

No. 19, Jalan SS2/3, 

Petaling Jaya.

Open: Closed every Tuesday. 

Tel:012-2516163

Facebook: @Restoran-Mama-Lee

Instagram: @mamaleerestoranpj

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

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

KUALA LUMPUR, Sept 15 — What counts as a balanced breakfast nowadays?

Perhaps the right ratio of protein, carbohydrates and fat (though what’s right for each person might vary wildly, no?); if so, I volunteer my classic kopitiam trinity of kopi extra kaw, butter kaya toast and half-boiled eggs.

Perhaps that balance relates to nutritional value (which has a direct correlation with food guilt, it seems); if so, my weekday brekkie bowl of overnight oats, chia seeds, peanut butter, Greek yoghurt and blueberries ought to suffice.

But maybe I’m approaching this from entirely wrong directions. Maybe a balanced breakfast should be simpler: a little savoury and a little sweet. Anything to satisfy the morning munchies.

Palace Rice Vermicelli Restaurant in Yulek, Cheras. — Picture by CK Lim

Which is to say this particular morning I am craving for dumpling noodles, and maybe a bowl of tong sui afterwards. (I have stereotypical Cantonese taste buds, I know; you can blame my ancestors for that.)

Make that savoury sui kow and sweet rice balls. Specifically at Palace Rice Vermicelli Restaurant in Yulek, Cheras.

The clean and well maintained shop mostly receives customers from the surrounding neighbourhood; it is a well-established if a tad under-the-radar establishment here.

Their signature rice vermicelli. — Picture by CK Lim

Some might say that variety isn’t their strong suit (I’d argue otherwise, but more on that later): you basically come here for their signature rice vermicelli in soup with an assortment of toppings but mostly dumplings.

The dumplings in question, however, are the very definition of a mundane masterpiece. Each handmade sui kow might appear perfectly ordinary but take a bite and your assessment will alter immediately.

Expect a plump whole prawn in every sui kow; the minced pork is mixed with water chestnut for that crunchy and refreshing mouth feel.

Plump whole prawn and minced pork in every ‘sui kow’. — Picture by CK Lim

This is the bowl to go for on most days and definitely on your first visit. Three humongous dumplings strewn among the strands of rice vermicelli, kept warm by the naturally sweet broth (we detect the amiable presence of ikan bilis).

There is no other choice of noodles, which might deter those who insist on a plethora of noodle selection. But fret not; this is one instance when having the choice made for you is the right decision.

For these are some of the best rice vermicelli (or mai sin in Cantonese) we’ve had: firm and springy, chewy but never mushy. Every slurp is smooth, dare I say sensually sleek on our tongues?

Combination bowl with ‘sui kow’, fish ball and pork meat ball. — Picture by CK Lim

Little wonder the shop’s name in Chinese translates to Imperial Noodles. These are noodles fit for an emperor.

Some might prefer to switch it up on return visits. Their combination bowl with sui kow, fish ball and pork meat ball offers a little of everything.

Other popular toppings include fish cake, squid balls or even a verdant shower of nothing but chopped spring onions to go with the noodles.

I’d recommend ordering a side of fried sui kow too. Yes, it’s more dumplings but the textural difference makes this an entirely new dish: crunchy, with the edges shattering delicately into shards.

Fried ‘sui kow’. — Picture by CK Lim

To complete our “balanced breakfast” (which, I’m sure you realise by now, veers more to excess than equilibrium), something sweet: good old Cantonese tong sui.

We share two bowls of ginger soup and barley ginkgo soup, both with glutinous rice balls. (We never encountered a tong yun we didn’t like but these are impressively large; a most satisfying mouthful.)

Honestly I can imagine returning just for the rice vermicelli or the sui kow alone, but if you have the appetite for it, why not both?

Ginger soup and barley ginkgo soup, with glutinous rice balls. — Picture by CK Lim

Palace Rice Vermicelli Restaurant 宮廷之米線

12, Jalan Cengkeh, 

Taman Cheras, Kuala Lumpur.

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

Phone: 03-9132 3833

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

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

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

PETALING JAYA, Sept 14 — If food were ranked like songs, there’d be classics, one-hit wonders, and those smash hits you cannot stop listening to — or, in this case, unable to stop eating.

Restoran Kacang Pool Haji is a true smash hit, doling out bowls of Johor’s favourite bean-and-meat stew inspired by the Egyptian dish foul medames.

This Ara Damansara shop is a transplant of the original Johor Baru location, often identified as the stall next to the fire station in Larkin, even though it has multiple locations in that city.

Hidden from plain sight, the shop sits in a triangular layout of shops that are mainly offices except for a Thai Nyonya BBQ place just down the road.

On Sunday, it’s quiet with easy parking, and people slowly amble in to take a seat at the tables outside or inside the shop.

I can imagine parking would be scarce if everyone is in the office during the weekday but you’re saved because they’re also on a delivery app that constantly pings with a hungry person’s order every few minutes or so.

Dunk a piece of the ‘roti bakar’ to scoop up a bit of the stew. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

The main act is Kacang Pool Daging (RM9); a mutton version is also available for RM12.

The dish is so widely loved that many websites feature recipes for their version of the bean stew.

It comes in a small bowl topped with a sunny side up egg with a soft yolk, chopped onions and chopped green chillies. There’s calamansi lime on the side to uplift the stew with the tangy juice.

Dunk a piece of thick toast – long Bengalli bread slices smeared with margarine and lightly pan-fried on both sides on a hot griddle – into the stew.

You know it’s cooked to just the right consistency because the stew clings well to the bread without dripping back into the bowl.

It’s a gentle flavour from ground coriander, cumin, and black pepper with a light touch of chilli powder and curry powder that doesn’t make you choke.

Lontong Basah plays a sweet melody with the use of freshly squeezed coconut milk as you try other elements like the ‘nasi impit’ with ‘sambal’, toasted grated coconut and a chunky peanut sauce. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

When mixed with the chopped onions and green chilies, you get freshness, crunch and of course, lingering spiciness,

Built on a base of blended broad beans and minced beef, it’s substantial enough for a light, satisfying breakfast you won’t mind returning for.

Supporting dishes, all from Johor, can also be ordered from the menu, such as nasi ambeng, lontong, mee rebus and mee soto. They also offer fried rice and fried noodles.

This place serves three versions of lontong, which uses nasi impit (compressed white rice often served with satay) that has a firmer bite compared to the softer rice cakes wrapped in banana leaf.

Lontong Basah (RM8) may look scant on vegetables, but taste just the yellow broth first to relish the freshly squeezed santan that lends a beautiful sweetness to the broth coloured with turmeric powder.

Mess alert! Lontong Kering is best mixed together to get flavour with ‘rendang’ chicken. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

It’s good on its own but have more fun by mixing in the chunky peanut sauce for a touch of creaminess, then the sambal bawang for spiciness, along with the hard-boiled egg, toasted grated coconut, a piece of tempeh, yam bean and carrots cut into matchsticks.

It’s a simple dish but comforting with the coconut milk broth mixed with the compressed rice.

Then the dish converts into an intense Lontong Kering (RM9) once it loses the broth but uses the same elements to hit you with a punch of spiciness.

Joining them are sayur goreng with fried glass noodles and vegetables and rendang chicken.

The rendang hasn’t soaked much into the chicken but it’s a good combination with the spices from the coconut milk gravy.

And if you’re the ultimate lontong fan, there’s even a fried lontong version.

Mee Rebus was the sleeper hit with its thick, sweet gravy that uses dried shrimps to maximize the flavour. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

The Mee Rebus (RM8) was a gamble for us; reviews indicated a watery mess but perhaps the restaurant had rectified things as the boiled noodles arrived with a gloriously thick sauce with the use of sweet potatoes.

Two versions exist in Johor; one, popularly known as Mee Rebus Haji Wahid (named after the stall owner who sold it) uses beef broth, sweet potatoes, fragrant spices and chunks of slow cooked beef topped with a crispy cracker made from dried shrimps, rice flour and coconut milk

This wasn’t that version but this one gets its sweetness from dried shrimps, making us fight for the last drop of that gravy and noodles, until the whole plate was scraped clean.

It was a truly spectacular breakfast that saw us rolling back to the car filled to the brim with happy carbohydrates that didn’t seem to matter on a lazy Sunday.

Located in a quieter spot in Ara Damansara, it’s good to visit on weekends when there are fewer cars as many offices surround this shop. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Restoran Kacang Pool Haji (Cawangan Larkin Bomba J.B)

J-G-13, Block J,

Jalan PJU 1A/1,

Taipan Damansara 2,

Ara Damansara, Petaling Jaya.

Open daily: 7 a.m. to 12 a.m.

Closed only four days a year: Hari Raya Haji and Hari Raya Aidilfitri (Three days starting from the eve)

Tel: 014-2757751

Facebook: @KacangPoolHajiMakpol

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

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

PETALING JAYA, Sep 13 — In this line of work, I get all sorts of tips in all shapes and sizes. 

Over drinks with a friend. Chatting with my aunt(ies). Being sent a zoomed-in screenshot of my friend’s colleague’s boyfriend’s sister’s Instagram story — you know, the sort of boots-on-the-ground journalism we’ve come to expect in our time.

In a first, I was tipped off to a char kuey teow stall after my parents tried it at a birthday party. 

It was a grand affair — the sort with themed costumes and bespoke invitations, it was a 50th birthday after all — but the food remained firmly on the ground; char kuey teow just happened to be one of the birthday boy’s favourites.

The stall, Pei Yin Char Kuey Teow, booked by the birthday boy himself, turned out to be much closer to home than expected: 111 Beet Fatt Restaurant, Damansara Utama, also home to the fairly popular SBay Wantan Mee. 

111 Bee Fatt Restaurant spans two shops in Damansara Utama along the row facing the Uptown 5 office towers.

I first tried it for myself about a month ago, ordering a “small” (RM10) portion. I was struck by the fat, firm prawns; the balance of savouriness and wok hei; and, quite stealthily, the intensity of spice. 

When I ordered, the friendly assistant asked if I wanted laat jiu, which I confirmed without thinking much of it. It didn’t overwhelm the rest of the plate, but it certainly didn’t go unnoticed. 

If you like your char kuey teow with a kick, this one’s for you.

I went back again recently, trying two different modifications: extra cockles (RM4) and a fried egg (RM1). I’m not the biggest fan of cockles, but I do appreciate that when they mean extra cockles, they mean it. 

Pei Yin is located on the right side of the shop, in the section that opens out into the paved alleyway.

Plump, blood-red and briny, they covered half the plate, delivering anyone looking for that iron-rich, metallic hit exactly what they came for. 

The game changer for me was the fried egg — I love a fried egg and a runny yolk, and I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to add one to my char kuey teow order. 

My only gripe: I wish the edges were crispier, but the yolk was perfect, runny and slipping oozily between strands of charred kuey teow.

A perfectly runny yolk in a fried egg is the cherry on top of the icing on a plate of satisfying ‘char kuey teow’.

If you’re looking to plan a visit, early morning is your best bet. Pei Yin starts the day at six in the morning, but even at eight, it’s still relatively easy to get in and out. 

And if you’re looking to cater your next party — treating your guests to a very satisfying plate of char kuey teow — Pei Yin caters within the Klang Valley, with a minimum order of 100 plates. 

A hundred plates might sound like a big ask, but if you ever need help eating through them, I’m your man.

Pei Yin Char Kuey Teow, 

111 Bee Fatt Restaurant

26, Jalan SS 21/39, 

Damansara Utama, Petaling Jaya.

Open Monday to Saturday, 6am-2pm

Tel: 014-360 4037

* 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 to discover — or offer — more tips on where to eat.

KUALA LUMPUR, Sept 12 — “Hidden gem” might be one of the most overused phrases in food writing. There’s no helping it; clichés abound and assist us in navigating an ocean of content.

Which makes it all the more thrilling when one stumbles upon a true hidden gem, a hideaway where one least expects to find it.

In my case, it was along a row of old shophouses in a densely populated part of OUG, just off Old Klang Road. 

This is where one might buy the freshest eggs and produce at a wet market tucked inside an alley or hunt down hardware parts.

Yet, if you were to go up a short flight of stairs, right above a car wash, you’d be like Lucy Pevensie going through the ordinary looking wardrobe to the magical realm of Narnia.

Except, instead of C.S. Lewis’s enchanted land, we find ourselves inside a flora-filled sanctuary. A second floor café filled with natural light from the original skylight in the roof.

From pottery to plants, the space is imbued with a natural calm. — Picture by CK Lim

From pottery to plants, the space is imbued with a natural calm. Now this is a true hidden gem.

And instead of Mr Tumnus, C.S. Lewis’s friendly faun, we are welcomed by Caleb Mok, the café’s charming owner. Indeed the café gets its name from him: Caleb’s Hideout.

Which gives you an idea of how this is a personal space, almost akin to a garden home in the sky, opened to friends and strangers. A place where Caleb, a certified dietitian, can escape to — and now we can too.

It is not often that a nutritionist opens a café, which perhaps gives Caleb’s Hideout its raison d’être: to create a haven for the health conscious as well as a refuge for those of us stressed out by the mad bustle of daily life.

Consider this a dietitian designed garden café then.

Owner Caleb Mok, a certified dietitian, making coffee. — Picture by CK Lim

As Caleb makes our coffee, he shares his dream of creating a place for customers to visit and enjoy nutritious food and drinks. Nothing too heavy but nothing too unapproachable either.

Basically everything you’d recognise in a cosy café, from espresso-based coffees to comforting cakes. Which doesn’t mean there isn’t a great deal of care going into every detail, for there is.

Take our flat white, for instance. Most cafés that aren’t catering to the fastidious specialty coffee crowd would just opt for run-of-the-mill beans.

Caleb insists on sourcing from other small food artisans; here he uses beans from KL-based Emberwood Coffee Roasters. Their medium roast Ember house blend — a mix of Brazil, Colombia and Guatemala — gives our flat white a creamy, chocolatey profile.

To go with the coffee, there is a rotating menu of sweet treats, all baked and made by Caleb: banana cake with walnuts and prunes, tofu brownie cheesecake with Biscoff biscuits, rose water infused watermelon cake with strawberries and pistachios — how does one even choose?

Flat white made with beans from Emberwood Coffee Roasters. — Pictures by CK Lim

In the end we settle on something that’s equally sinful and guilt-free (proving opposing forces can exist in harmony: Caleb’s indulgent but healthy (he assures us) tofu oat milk chocolate mousse cake.

Enough raw cacao powder to make it taste decadent but the dairy-free creaminess courtesy of the tofu and oat milk makes every bite lighter than expected.

We quench our thirst with the beautifully named Sunlit Jasmine, a refreshing citrus-infused tea. Caleb tells us it’s chilled jasmine tea lightly sweetened with honey and brightened with the soft fragrance of yuzu.

Fresh flower arrangements will leave you feeling wonderful. — Pictures by CK Lim

There is, of course, also the fragrance of the flowers. Softer floral notes than you might expect; nothing overpowering. More of a subtle undertone that barely envelops the café, part of its character.

Roses and carnations. Fresh flower arrangements that leave us feeling quite wonderful. Bundles of dried baby’s breath; a more whimsical bouquet, this.

But it is the Ficus lyrata, the fiddle-leaf fig, with its paddle-like foliage and thin, dark stems, that hits the closest. It reminds me of the fiddle-leaf fig in my garden and this realisation might also be a revelation.

How Caleb’s Hideout feels like home, even though this is our first time here. It won’t be our last.

Caleb’s Hideout

24¬-1, Jalan Sepadu, 

Taman United, KL.

Open Fri & Sun 9am–6pm, Sat 9am–10pm, Mon-Thu closed

Phone: 018-317 0986

IG: @caleb.hideout

FB: Caleb's Hideout

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

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

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

KUALA LUMPUR, Sept 12 — The city’s love affair with doughnuts just got serious with Japan’s iconic I’m donut? opening its doors today. 

Expect long queues outside the 2,000-square-foot store along Market Lane on the ground floor of The Exchange TRX.

Your patience will be rewarded with a chance to select your favourites from a whopping selection of more than 30 sweet and savoury nama donuts to take home in minimalist cardboard boxes featuring their logo. 

This includes 16 Malaysia-exclusive flavours incorporating familiar local ingredients like Milo, Cham, pandan and coconut. 

I'm donut? Original (left) may look plain but it's all about texture with a crisp crust and light, airy interior. Inspired by 'goreng pisang', this is the Banana Fritter Caramel (right). — Pictures by Lee Khang Yi

I’m donut? comes from the brilliant mind of Japanese chef Ryouta Hirako who didn’t start out as a baker. 

In his early days, he ventured into Italian food, opening his own place in Fukuoka. 

When he started making bread for his restaurant, he fell into the world of flour and yeast, which led him to open the bakery Amam Dacotan and a bakery cafe Dacomecca. 

Like a food fairy tale, Hirako’s nama donut was born from accidentally frying brioche dough at the bakery. 

Two sandos side-by-side but with different flavour profiles: the Matcha Anko Sando (left) uses red bean paste, and the Pandan White Bean (right) combines pandan cream with white bean paste. — Picture by Choo Choy May

Their first Tokyo outlet in 2022 went viral for its unique texture coupled with creative, freshly made fillings. 

The fame spread as more stores opened in Japan and they also conquered the world, expanding to New York, Seoul, Taipei and now Kuala Lumpur, which is their first South-east Asian outpost. 

Hirako’s wish for the first shop in Malaysia is simple: “I just want our customers to be happy eating our donuts.” 

Don't forget the delectable filled donuts, a range of different flavours that include the Cham, inspired by the coffee-tea combined drink, and the Pandan Coconut Cream, which has toasted grated coconut inside a pandan flavoured donut and coconut cream topped with fresh coconut flesh. — Picture by Choo Choy May

For those unfamiliar with the brand or this type of donut, one question remains: Is it worth the hype? 

Bite into I’m donut?’s Original—a sugar-dusted circular fried dough that puffs up like a tiny pillow—to discover a crisp crust achieved from deep-frying the dough in high heat for a short time. 

This contrasts sharply with the light, fluffy interior, which uses kabocha pumpkin in the dough to reduce gluten. 

For their Kuala Lumpur store, Hirako explained they swapped the pumpkin for banana, which works the same magic to create the cloud-like donuts. 

Expect long queues of eager donut fans to crowd the store located at Market Lane on the ground floor of The Exchange TRX. — Picture by Choo Choy May

The texture blows your mind; it has substance yet remains soft, completely unlike other famous doughnuts that feel like you are just eating air encased in a glazed crackly sugar coating.

Even the sweetness is just right for the plain, unfilled Original with its dusting of icing sugar. 

The nama donut comes in different flavours, from matcha, chocolate and a decadent Choco Shell featuring a chocolate flavoured nama donut layered with a chocolate coat and topped with cacao nibs. 

Different styles include ring donuts, which are either glazed or coated with melted chocolate and nuts, like the enticing Zaku-Zaku Chocolate, which features a crunchy caramel chocolate coat and nuts covering a chocolate-flavoured donut. 

There are also cream-filled donuts in different flavours like raspberry, matcha, mango and pistachio plus nama French crullers made with choux pastry and generously coated with melted chocolate. 

The open kitchen behind orange coloured glass is a hive of activity as everyone works hard to prepare the donuts, such as dipping them in chocolate. — Picture by Choo Choy May

Currently two savoury donuts are available at the counter: one with a chicken sausage and a generously stuffed Masala Chicken. In future, they hope to introduce more savoury flavours. 

I’m donut? flexes  its skill with its Malaysia-exclusive flavours, like the Cham-filled donuts, where tea-scented cream and coffee cream replicate the unique flavour of the two drinks. 

Hirako has his favourites among the Malaysia-exclusive donuts, like Pandan White Bean and Pandan Coconut Cream. 

Pandan White Bean mixes two countries — it matches smooth, sweet Japanese white bean paste (shiroan) with a silky pandan flavoured cream.

Texture makes a difference with the Pandan Coconut Cream, as pandan flavoured dough is filled with a silky coconut cream and stuffed with toasted grated coconut. 

Remember to get the Zaku-Zaku Chocolate where a chocolate donut is glazed with caramel chocolate and topped with chopped nuts. — Picture by Choo Choy May

A final flourish of fresh coconut flesh strips tops each of the filled donuts. 

Other local flavours mash-up include Milo-glazed, Hojicha Kaya Jam and Banana Fritter Caramel. 

One local flavour you won’t see at I’m donut? is durian though as Hirako believes, “the durian is nice to eat as it is.”

Grab a matcha drink too, with 12 combinations with coffee, mocha, mango, strawberry and orange, available hot or cold. There’s also hojicha latte and juices. 

Hirako also announced that they will serve premium grade Shizuoka Motoyama matcha from the Shizuoka prefecture later. 

Prices for the donuts range from RM4.60 for the I’m donut? Original to RM12 for the filled donuts and sandos. 

Expect long queues of eager donut fans to crowd the store located at Market Lane on the ground floor of The Exchange TRX. — Picture by Choo Choy May

The competitive pricing is close to Japan’s price range of 220 yen (RM5.80) to 480 yen (RM13). 

Hirako’s rationale is to make the donuts accessible to all with this price point. 

“I want the donuts to be part of Malaysian culture and to achieve that, the price must be reasonable so many customers can enjoy the donuts.”

Unlike stores in Japan that close once the donuts sell out for the day, this store will remain open because they also offer drinks, explained Dan’s Fine Food Operations Manager Shuhei Kondo.

Dan’s Fine Food holds the license for Malaysia and estimates a target of 7,000 donuts freshly made daily once operations stabilise.

Kuala Lumpur is the start for I’m donut? in Malaysia and Dan’s Fine Food confirmed that expanding their footprint is expected later, including a possible location in Johor Bahru.  

I’m donut? Kuala Lumpur

GS.05.0, Market Lane, 

The Exchange TRX, 

Persiaran TRX, 

Tun Razak Exchange, Kuala Lumpur.

Open daily: 10am to 10pm

Instagram:@imdonutmys

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

KUALA LUMPUR, Sep 11 — The first time I tried pao fan — a classic Teochew dish of rice submerged in a pork or seafood broth, usually topped with crispy rice — it unlocked something in me.

Growing up, I did enjoy my rice sufficiently lubricated, but submerging it entirely in broth felt a touch too close to congee territory, which I hated. I wanted banjir, not Guantanamo.

Any concerns about rice soaked to a soggy, mushy death in coloured water were immediately quelled by the first mouthful.

My first pao fan, admittedly, was a pretty luxe one: river prawns gave the broth a rich, sweet flavour and a bright orange hue, while the crispy rice gained a brittle, candy-like texture from the plunge.

It left a lasting impression of what pao fan could be.

So when I heard I might find a great one off Jalan Ipoh, off the deep end I went.

The restaurant, which has been around since 1989, sits on the corner of a row of shops in Taman Kok Lian, just off Jalan Ipoh. — Picture by Ethan Lau

I felt a familiar sensation, yet I was arguably more impressed when the pao fan was presented to me at Sun Kar Hee, a 37-year-old Chinese seafood restaurant in Taman Kok Lian, just off Jalan Ipoh.

Situated on the corner of a quiet row of shops, the restaurant is half air-conditioned, half open-air.

The pao fan here is aptly named Seafood Treasure (RM428), justifying its price with quantity as much as quality: crab, white prawns, lala clams, scallop, dried scallops, abalone and thick slices of giant grouper make up the broth's contents, along with cooked rice and crispy rice. It comfortably feeds four to five.

The thing about most brothy seafood dishes like these is that, for all the work that goes into their preparation, it comes down to how good and — though the two are not equivalent — how fresh the seafood is.

And that is where being as established as Sun Kar Hee becomes a real trump card for a seafood restaurant.

Because the crab and lala clams were sweet; the white prawns and great scallop, buoyant and firm; and even with the odd bone, the thick, meaty slices of giant grouper held their structure like well-rested steak.

And the broth delivered a far more subtle, refined sweetness than the first I tried, leaving room for a more savoury, briny character to come through.

Celtuce, also known as ‘wosun’ in Cantonese, stir-fried with wood ear fungus, shimeji mushrooms, carrots and topped with toasted pine nuts. — Picture by Ethan Lau

All of it, dutifully soaked into both the cooked and crispy rice.

You could have a complete meal at Sun Kar Hee.

There’s no shortage of large, banquet-style dishes fit for big groups like claypot drunken chicken and stewed pork trotters with sea cucumber, but my decidedly small group had already begun feeling the effects of our pao fan.

In the interest of balance, we ordered a vegetable dish: stir-fried celtuce (wosun in Cantonese) with wood ear fungus, carrots and white shimeji mushrooms (RM18), fascinatingly topped with toasted pine nuts.

Between the tender crunch of the celtuce and the pop of the pine nuts, the dish made for a wonderful textural experience.

And just because we wanted something to snack on while waiting for the pao fan — the restaurant did inform us that it would take 20 minutes — we also ordered a small portion of cili padi pork belly (RM32), and nibbled on slices of fatty belly in a sweet, sticky sauce with spicy bird’s eye chillies and lots, lots of red onion.

Not bad for a nibble: ‘cili padi’ pork belly. — Picture by Ethan Lau

It has to be said, the rest of the large-format dishes at Sun Kar Hee looked really tempting. I may even consider trying one or two on my next visit.

But I’d have to come with a really, really big group, because there’s no way I’d bring anyone here without letting them try the pao fan.

Sun Kar Hee Restaurant

28, Jalan Manjoi,

Taman Kok Lian, Kuala Lumpur.

Open:11.30am-9.30pm. Closed on Tuesdays.

Tel: 03-6253 1240

Facebook: Sun Kar Hee 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 pao fan and other eating adventures.

MELAKA, Sept 10 — Visitors come to Melaka for many reasons but food is a big part of the draw. From Peranakan cuisine to peerless putu piring, there is a treat for every taste bud.

But as I have discovered during recent sojourns to my hometown, these palate parties aren’t limited to Malaccan food.

For instance, who knew that some of the best kha mu or Thai braised pork I’ve had outside of Bangkok could be found just a couple streets away from my childhood home now?

So it’s not entirely a surprise to discover authentic Sarawakian flavours here, specifically at W&L Restaurant Café in the ever-bustling Melaka Raya.

The décor evokes the owners’ Sarawakian heritage. — Picture by CK Lim

Opened in 2022, W&L is run by a friendly Sarawakian couple, Wilson and Lisa. (The eatery gets its name from the first letters of their names, making this truly a labour of love.)

Located in a corner lot, the décor of the shop evokes the owners’ Sarawakian heritage. While introducing their signature dishes, Wilson also tells us that they return to Sarawak regularly, partly to source local ingredients.

This means their Three-Layer Tea Apong uses proper gula apong (which is a palm sugar) at the base, evaporated milk in the middle, and the requisite tea at the top.

A different take, their signature Three-Layer Tea Pandan features pandan syrup at its base, grassy and fragrant; a nice counterpoint to the sweet creaminess of the evaporated milk and the thick tannins of the tea.

Sarawak Tiga Masam (left) and Three-Layer Tea Pandan (right). — Picture by CK Lim

It’s a visual delight, of course; the layers remain distinct until stirred together, and then it’s time to sip rather than to stare.

Those seeking something tart and refreshing, look no further than their Sarawak Tiga Masam, which gets its acidity from a trio of lime juice, lemon juice and salted plum. A thriller thirst quencher, this.

Classic Sarawakian noodles are the go-to order here when it’s time for savoury dishes. I’d say it depends if you prefer your noodles “dry” or “soupy”.

Kuching Kolo Mee. — Picture by CK Lim

For the former, get their Kuching Kolo Mee. W&L’s version of the famous noodle dish from the Sarawakian capital is sweet and savoury, every strand satisfyingly springy and chewy.

Wilson tells us that their seasoning is made with a base of the barbecue sauce used for char siew mixed with honey. Which explains the mildly red hue of the noodles.

The dish comes with a few sides, from crispy fried wantan wrappers and sliced char siew to tofu and half a hard-boiled egg drizzled with braising gravy.

Sarawak Laksa. — Picture by CK Lim

The same sides also accompany their Sarawak Laksa. Here it’s the rich and spicy coconut milk broth that grabs our attention; we detect hints of galangal and lemongrass, belacan and tamarind. (Maybe some other secret spices too?)

Some fresh shrimp, shredded chicken and rice vermicelli, all garnished with green onions and lime, and you have a dish designed for diehard laksa lovers.

Other Sarawakian delights include Sarawak Lor Mee, Sibu Kampua Mee and a seasonal Special Sarawak Laksa with Tiger Prawns. We definitely have plans to try these when we next visit.

We have a sweet finish with some complimentary green bean soup, which warms my Cantonese heart (or do I mean belly?): nothing like a bowl of tong sui to complete a good meal on a great note!

Sweet finish with green bean soup. — Picture by CK Lim

W&L Restaurant Café

648, Jalan Melaka Raya 10,

Taman Melaka Raya, Melaka.

Open daily (except Mon closed) 11am–3:30pm & 5:30–10pm

Phone: 06-852 2559

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

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

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

PETALING JAYA, Sept 9 — When I first heard of Seremban’s lou shu fen, I expected silver needle noodles with their distinct short, tapered ends that some say resemble rat’s tails.  

I often choose that particular noodle because I find it the easiest to eat with soup, as I struggle with pulling longer strands that seem to mysteriously tangle in my bowl. 

Perhaps it’s also a childhood habit carried into adulthood: the simpler way to slurp down the shorter bits with a spoon rather than using chopsticks. 

It’s not your usual short, tapered noodles but longer, slightly bouncy noodles that are uniquely a Seremban-style. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

But it seems Seremban has its own take on lou shu fen; theirs are longer strands, known as Fu Yong lai fun, where Fu Yong in Cantonese dialect refers to Seremban. 

You might think these are the translucent strands found in a bowl of tangy asam laksa but they are not. 

Nor is it the Gopeng lai fun which has a slightly softer bite and is made from ground rice.  

Fried meatballs (left) are juicy under their crispy exterior while fried fishballs (right) have a sweeter taste and are dotted with vegetables and chilli. — Pictures by Lee Khang Yi

The Seremban lou shu fen is probably closer to the Hong Kong version: a bouncier noodle often served in broth and eaten together with roast goose. 

Around the town, various stalls offer their versions, usually topped with cooked minced pork and lard fritters. 

These resemble Hakka mee closely, but they swap out the flat egg noodles. 

Fat spaghetti-like strands are coated with a slightly sweet dark soy sauce. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Some add other ingredients like char siu or even omelette strips. 

The long, slippery noodles also appear at beef noodle stalls, doused liberally in a thick dark brown beefy sauce.

This stall inside Taman Megah’s Restoran Hakka Legend offers its version of these noodles paired with minced pork, crispy fried fuchuk, house-made fried meatballs and fried fishballs. 

It’s part of a network of stalls scattered around in places like Subang Jaya and Kota Kemuning. 

Things are kept simple here: one size of noodles costs RM10 and includes two meatballs, two fishballs and fuchuk. Three extra meatballs can be added for RM5.

A bowl of clear broth and bright chunky pounded chili sauce with oil completes your order.

Look for the stall that offers only one item; it is part of a network of stalls that can be found in places like Subang Jaya and Kota Kemuning. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Mix the noodles up and they turn brown from the dark soy sauce, while the mince struggles to cling to the strands. 

It’s slightly sweet from the caramel in the dark soy sauce and you get a nice chew from the slightly bouncy noodles. 

I like to be unconventional and dump the chili sauce into the noodles, twirling it with the bright red bits as it infuses heat throughout. 

One bite gives you burning heat. Another soothes with its sweetness. Some strands give a spicy-sweet taste. 

Restoran Hakka Legend took over Restoran Gembira’s vacated spot in Taman Megah. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

It’s at this point you search for the fried meatballs that yield juicy marinated pork inside with each bite. 

Mix that with the golden coloured fried fishballs dotted with green vegetables and red chilli for a slightly sweeter flavour. 

And of course, that much needed contrast of texture from the crispy fuchuk. 

That bowl may look simple but strangely enough, I found myself craving it so much that I was back after one week of first tasting it. 

Perhaps its simplicity is what draws me. Or just something different from the usual fishball or pork noodles offered in every coffee shop. 

Seremban Lou Shu Fen stall @ Restoran Hakka Legend

39, Jalan SS24/8, 

Taman Megah, Petaling Jaya.

Open daily: 7am to 4pm 

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

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

COMMENTARY, Sept 8 — It’s fascinating how getting older sometimes means getting more honest with yourself; there just isn’t enough time for bull and baloney.

This candour extends to how I eat or, rather, how I prefer to eat. There were years, for instance, where I’d avoid ordering siu mai — those perfect parcels of prawn and pork — in favour of more intriguing items when dining at a dim sum restaurant.

Perhaps pan-fried cheong fun rice rolls in XO chilli sauce? Or those collagen-rich “phoenix claws” paired with fragrant fermented black beans? 

Surely some steamed lotus paste buns with salted egg yolk will satisfy, with their pleasing, oozing lava drama?

Siu mai, on the other hand, with a folded yellow wantan wrapper forming a pocket for minced pork and a plump prawn, seems almost a relic. 

Experience required to wrap 'siu mai' properly. — Picture by CK Lim

Too plain, even with the few orbs of vividly orange tobiko (flying fish roe) at its centre.

Why, then, am I always drawn back to this humble dim sum?

Maybe it’s the familiarity that makes the heart grow fonder; that taste that I recognise anywhere. So comforting.

Maybe it’s the experience required to make them, the slow spooning of the meat into the half folded wrapper, the correct number of minutes in the steamer.

They say homemade is best but I dare say most restaurants will do much better (they have had more practice, surely?) so long as they don’t skimp on the filling or use the admittedly more convenient frozen variety.

From KL to Ipoh, the song of the siu mai calls to me like the sirens to Odysseus (albeit a far less murderous melody than that of Persephone’s past playmates). 

Is siu mai different elsewhere though?

Certainly when I visited Hong Kong, that bastion of Cantonese cuisine, a trip to a proper dim sum restaurant is a must (or so my local friends tell me). 

Even then, there is a wide variety of choices, from nearly 24-hour eateries where you can have your baked chasiu sou with polo bun crust at three in the morning to more refined establishments where the well-heeled congregate for a Cantonese take on high tea.

Aged 'Pu-erh' tea and 'siu mai' topped with real crab roe in Hong Kong. — Pictures by CK Lim

The latter can either be an elegant affair or an unabashed bougie fest depending on how you approach it. (There’s a reason dim sum here is sometimes associated with tai tai culture when you partake during the weekday hours when others are more gainfully employed.)

Still, it’s easy to forget all that when we take in the ethereal “blossoms” before us, these tiny petalled sacks of siu mai crafted by hands that have spent decades making the same thing over and over.

Instead of the brilliant orange of tobiko, each bundle of juicy pork is garnished with a decadent crown of real hai wong. 

The rich crab roe turns to a paler yellow and is creamy rather than the tobiko’s distinct pop when you bite into it.

Details like this make all the difference, from the clean, properly ironed white table cloths to the pot of tea brewed from aged, estate-specific Pu-erh cakes.

Workers making fresh buns and dumplings in Songwat, Bangkok. — Picture by CK Lim

Yet siu mai doesn’t need to be so fancy or fussy.

Or, indeed, even a sit-down occasion. In Bangkok, particularly the Thai Chinese neighbourhoods of Yaowarat and Songwat (the former is widely recognised as the capital’s Chinatown), one can enjoy siu mai standing by the streets.

Every corner seems to reveal a different artisanal shop, easily a century old. There are dim sum or bao makers, now redesigned in the style of “open kitchens” so you can see the workers making the buns or dumplings fresh.

Called both shumai and khanom jeeb here, these are typically served with a tangy, spicy chilli and vinegar dipping sauce rather than the chilli sauce we are used to. 

Sometimes they add a garnish of fried garlic, which adds a lovely aroma to every bite. Toothpicks make it easy to nibble on as you stroll along the soi and explore the heritage area.

Of course, in these times of over-tourism, even this no-frills dumpling can be repackaged; one popular spot offers the siu mai in a circular tray sitting atop a cup of iced Thai tea. An ingenious way to enjoy the best of both worlds, I guess?

And so it is with wherever the Chinese diaspora finds itself around the world, from Melbourne to Munich.

'Siu mai' in a circular tray sitting atop a cup of iced Thai tea. — Pictures by CK Lim

In the Philippines, you can enjoy siomai made with ground pork and beef; the dipping soy sauce is brightened with calamansi juice. 

All the way in South America, siu mai arrived in Peru courtesy of 19th-century Chinese immigrants who merged Cantonese cooking with local ingredients to create the dynamic Chifa fusion cuisine.

There is a siu mai for every tastebud and for every time of life, wherever we find ourselves.

At the end of the day, however we enjoy our siu mai, from a beaten up bamboo steamer at a kopitiam to a high end dim sum restaurant, its song remains the same.

For the song of siu mai is not the song of sirens. No, to sing of siu mai is to sing for one’s supper. A shared supper (or dim sum breakfast or yum cha session; you get what I mean).

This is a song of simple morsels enjoyed best, not alone, but with those you love. Washed down with plenty of hot Chinese tea and the sound of uproarious laughter. That’s life, really, the very best life.

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

Simple morsels enjoyed best with those you love. — Picture by CK Lim

PETALING JAYA, Sept 7 — When you’re a newcomer to the coffeeshop, what do you do to stand out from the rest?

Invent yet another crazy fusion dish, like the Malaysian classic nasi lemak morphed into a mooncake that will raise everyone’s eyebrows?

No, you stick to your Peranakan heritage and F&B experience to keep introducing different items to capture people’s attention.

This three-month-old stall inside Yuen Feng Kopitiam in busy Kota Damansara offers nasi lemak with a sambal that veers away from the usual spicy-sweet ones everywhere; this one is more fragrant forward with a tangier flavour.

Inspired by owner Melvin Chin’s Peranakan background, the sambal includes a lot of lemongrass and torch ginger flower, which you can smell immediately, and its tangier profile is from asam jawa.

It’s unconventional, but it works if you’re open-minded to a different flavour profile.

Satay Babi is served with a peanut sauce laced with sweet pineapple and BBQ Pork Skewers are sprinkled with chilli powder. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Of course, there’s ayam goreng but why be so monotonous in your choices, especially since they offer their fried pork belly and pork rib rendang.

I admit I was sceptical about pairing the nasi lemak with fried pork belly (RM13), but the meat turned out juicy with a slight crunch that complemented the sambal.

Side dishes like kangkung (a must for any Melaka nasi lemak), peanuts, hard-boiled egg, ikan bilis, cucumber and fried cabbage a la ayam gepuk style also support the main dish.

The rice is fluffy with a delicate touch of santan, acting as a worthy partner to that sambal.

One might stop at just the nasi lemak but Chin elevates it with his satay and BBQ items.

It’s not your ordinary satay but Satay Babi (RM10 for five sticks) including options with two types of intestines (big and small) for those who relish offal.

The stall is in front of the corner coffee shop. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Appearances are deceiving here; I thought the satay looked dry and unappetising without any fat speared on the stick but they were lightly marinated and juicy bites.

Dip it in the peanut sauce made from scratch — which includes a dollop of pineapple puree lacing that creamy sauce with a touch of sweetness — and you have a winner worth a second order.

Your meaty adventure has just begun as you discover their BBQ menu of pork, chicken, beef and lamb skewers.

There’s also BBQ pork belly, a whole chicken leg, and a cheese hot dog to sink your teeth into.

BBQ Pork Skewers (RM12 for 3 sticks) featured chunks of meat interspersed with lard to keep them juicy.

The meat gets a slight flavour from the ginger and garlic marinade but you mainly taste the chilli powder sprinkled over the skewer.

You can customise the spiciness level when you order by asking for the chilli powder to be placed on the side or sprinkled liberally for a burning sensation.

The coffee shop has two locations: this corner shop and another opposite it, which has many stalls offering a large variety of food. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Later I found out Chin uses pork sourced from Brazil, as importers switched to this supply chain due to costs.

The meat is far superior to locally sourced pork, offering a rich flavour and good marbling from the higher ratio of intramuscular fat, resulting in moist bites when grilled.

Chin’s BBQ menu wasn’t his first idea; he started out with Portuguese ikan bakar but it didn’t sell well, so he was forced to pivot.

He also operates the MJ Noodle stall next to the nasi lemak stall; his wife runs it using his recipes, including laksa inspired by his heritage.

Nasi Lemak Melaka Stall @ Yuen Fong Kopitiam

2-1, Jalan PJU 5/7,

Kota Damansara, Petaling Jaya.

Open daily: 7am to 4:30pm, 6:30pm to 10pm.

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

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

GEORGE TOWN, Sep 6 — Root House by gēn opened this year inside the newly restored 1926 Heritage Hotel on Jalan Burma, the latest restaurant from chef Johnson Wong following gēn and Communal Table by gēn. 

The recipient of the Michelin Guide Kuala Lumpur and Penang 2024 Young Chef Award, Wong built his name by spotlighting Penang produce at his fine-dining flagship, gēn. 

Root House takes the same produce and explores it through a distinctly Malaysian-Chinese lens, spread across the dialect groups that shape it: Hokkien, Fuzhou, Cantonese, Teochew, Hakka and Hainanese.

Wong is careful about how that premise gets described, though. “We’re not trying to trace old recipes,” he says. “We are researching them, looking at how they changed when they arrived in Malaysia, and why the food we know today is the way it is.”

Chef Johnson Wong (right) with the head chef of Root House, Chef Koh Chin Hong (left). Both are natives of Johor. — Picture courtesy of Root House by gēn

The idea took shape after a post-pandemic trip to China. “I was very impressed by the level of cooking — not just in fine dining, but at every level,” he says. “It gave me a lot of ideas to create something of my own like that.” 

Even gēn, he admits, still falls into convention. “We’ve focused on local produce throughout the years at gēn, but if you go deep down, Western fundamentals are still at the core. We wanted to do something different, with Chinese soul and technique but with a modern approach.”

Steamed fish, ubiquitous throughout Malaysian-Chinese restaurants, is the example he uses when describing the change between the food he found in China and the food he grew up with. 

“We tend to use soy sauce because it’s the easiest way to bring out umami in seafood, but there are many other ways to achieve the same thing that we don’t see here often,” he says. 

“One thing I saw there was an old Cantonese technique that uses chicken fat to get that flavour, but cleaner.”

Root House is located in the newly restored colonial-style 1926 Heritage Hotel. — Picture courtesy of Root House by gēn

A native of Johor, he traces the difference back to necessity. “Because we arrived in Malaysia as immigrants, a lot of the recipes and cooking techniques were simplified with shortcuts, adding stuff like sugar or cornstarch to make things tastier.

“I can’t say it’s a bad thing, but we just wanted to understand the reason behind it and how we can evolve it heading into the future.” 

He points at sugar as an example. “I think when Malaysians eat Chinese food, we tend to have a sweeter palate, having become accustomed to a lot of added sugar.”

At Root House, that sweetness gives way to something purer — the signature threadfin is steamed with curry-infused chicken fat instead of soy. 

Less sauce, and more of what he calls the ingredient’s “original flavour”, but with curry as the nod to Malaysia. 

“What impressed me the most during my time in China was how light the Cantonese cuisine was, yet still elegant and sophisticated, and you can truly taste the original flavour of the ingredients,” he says. 

“We’re inspired by the methods and want to incorporate them in a way that makes sense for Malaysia.”

While he is aware that “most Chinese food in Malaysia has been dominated by Cantonese cuisine”, Wong also sees that the Malaysian Chinese experience isn’t a monolith. 

Classic dishes, like coconut and silkie chicken soup, receive an injection of Penang produce with the inclusion of kulim (left), while 'lei cha' is reimagined with 'wosun', also known as celtuce. — Picture courtesy of Root House by gēn

It’s true across dialect groups, but also true within. He points out that the cuisine of Hakka communities in the North and the South of peninsular Malaysia varies, and so too does Fuzhou cuisine, depending on whether they settled in Sitiawan or Sibu. 

“An example is lei cha. The herb mixture varies from place to place because some herbs, like mint, are more bitter in some places than others. We just try to make sure that we study it as widely as possible.”

Three months in, Wong says the response to Root House has split down the middle. “We get very polarising feedback,” he says. 

“It’s not right or wrong; people here have been eating Chinese food for many years, so they’re used to one variation of Chinese food. It’s not the Chinese food they’re used to, but it’s what we are trying to introduce to Penang.”

Root House is part of the new wave of produce-driven, heritage-centred restaurants emerging across Malaysia, most of which are a hit with tourists. 

In Penang, Wong’s other two restaurants arguably fit the bill. “gēn is still the mother. It all goes back to why I returned to Malaysia in the first place — I was interested in learning about Malaysian produce. Root House is the expression of my love for Chinese cooking,” he says. 

“Here, we want to have more locals, because the idea is to introduce Chinese food done differently to them, to show that the cuisine can evolve. I understand preserving culture and tradition is very important. But we shouldn’t be stuck to it.

“We are ingredient-forward, but we don’t use premium ingredients in the way Chinese restaurants tend to. If we use an ingredient, we want to find a good reason for it. Some old-school chefs cannot accept it,” he says. 

“But I believe there’s no right or wrong way; it’s just about what we want to achieve. For us, we remain produce-driven, same as at gēn, just expressed in a different way.”

What he does want is for people to keep talking after the plates are cleared. “We are very happy when we see diners linger at the table, deep in conversation about our dishes,” he says. 

“It can be good or bad, discussing preferences, but that’s what we want to see. We don’t want people to just sit down, eat and then leave.”

There’s a process to it, he says, but the process cannot be the point. “Ultimately, making something good that makes your customer happy is what matters. If you’re just cooking for yourself, I don’t see the point.”

Root House by gēn

1926 Heritage Hotel, 

227, Jalan Burma, 

George Town, Penang.

Open daily, 12-3pm, 5-11pm

Tel: 012-827 1926

https://www.roothousebygen.com/

Facebook: Root House by Gen

Instagram: @roothousebygen

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

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

SEREMBAN, Sept 5 — Perhaps the most welcoming part of Seremban is how, despite the town only being half an hour’s drive from the Klang Valley, it offers an entirely slower pace of life altogether.

Busy enough that we aren’t talking about a sleepy hollow but laid back enough that we are able to breathe and take our time to decide what to eat.

You guessed right: it’s breakfast time and we are looking for a place locals would visit but tourists less so (hopefully). 

To that end, we find ourselves at Restoran Sun Meng along the bustling Jalan See Meng Lee. Parking can be a challenge given the abundance of shops nearby, many of them coffee shops favoured by breakfast-goers.

Nostalgic ambience of the ‘kopitiam’. — Picture by CK Lim

This is a good sign, though, isn’t it? The draw is either good food or a loyal following; the neighbourhood is full of Seremban folks out for their kopi, roti bakar and Hakka mee.

The first thing that strikes you about Sun Meng is its easy, nostalgic ambience. This is the very spirit of an old kopitiam, patronised by regulars over decades.

Inside the walls are a pale cyan, stunningly framed by the bold, mustard-yellow shutters. The tiled floors look original, a reminder of the years that have passed and all the cups of coffee that have been served.

‘Kopi O kaw’. — Picture by CK Lim

Speaking of the coffee, we are pleasantly surprised by how strong ours were. This is the very definition of kopi O kaw. These cups will wake even the most somnolent of night owls.

(Not everyone can be a morning lark but there is a cure for sleepyheads; it’s the very first sip or two of a most robust brew.)

To go with our coffee, we must have some roti bakar, of course. The butter kaya toast here is absolutely old school; no fancy breads, just a proper white loaf, sliced thickly and spread with real butter and homemade kaya.

Perfect for dipping into half-boiled eggs, which by some miracle or skilful timing (we are betting on the latter), arrives at the same time as the toast. Meaning no cold, stale bread or congealed eggs due to a long wait for its partner.

A small detail, but so essential to the ideal kopitiam experience.

That would be the first half of our meal. Coffee, toast and eggs are the classic kopitiam trinity, but for those with a heartier appetite or who arrived here after a morning run or bike ride? Well, we need more.

Fortunately, every half decent kopitiam will have another stall or two offering more substantial fare. At Sun Meng, that role is taken up by a noodle stall located on one side of the outdoor dining area.

It’s not the sort of stall that focuses on a single type of noodle dish. Instead, you can have everything from fish ball noodles to pork noodles.

Even the type of noodles is entirely up to your personal preference from rice vermicelli to pre-fried yee mee. We have been on a bit of mee hoon kueh kick lately, so we went for the hand-torn dough.

The noodle stall. — Picture by CK Lim

This turns out to be a good choice, as every piece of mee hoon kueh is thick and chewy, just the way we like it. Slathered with a dark and savoury sauce, the noodles would have been good on their own.

We each have our own bowl of accompanying soup, however, full of delectable morsels. To each his own.

A mix of fish balls and meat balls. — Picture by CK Lim

The first bowl offers a mix of fish balls and meat balls, a beautiful juxtaposition of smooth and bouncy against coarse and dense.

For those who enjoy their pork noodles, the second bowl is basically a cornucopia of pork innards, from tender liver to springy intestines. Beyond the offal, several slices of lean pork meat provides the protein.

Pork innards in soup. — Picture by CK Lim

Done with the noodles, we could head off to our next destination. But given how everyone else is just taking their time and chatting, we do as the locals do. We order another round of kopi and watch the weekend slowly go by.

Restoran Sun Meng

3, Jalan See Meng Lee, 

Seremban.

Open daily 7am-noon (except Wednesday and Thursday off every two weeks)

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

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

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

KUALA LUMPUR, Sept 4 — After three years in hibernation, Sumitaba Japanese Restaurant, formerly located in Bukit Jalil, is back and bringing its “live” unagi preparation to Taman Desa. 

Brothers Matthew and Samuel Chua wanted to feature “live” eels because they make far superior unagi compared to the sub-par frozen versions. 

Perched on the first floor of Wisma JAG, the dining area offers a sweeping view of Taman Desa through its floor-to-ceiling glass windows, giving a sense of space that one appreciates even though the sky was hazy.

The 'unagi' is prepared Nagoya-style, where the 'live' eel is grilled over a charcoal fire and not steamed.

Unajyu (RM180 for a whole eel) is the best way to relish the eel prepared in two different ways. 

You can also order the Hitsumabushi (RM98), which is the half eel portion. 

The glass eels, around six to 12 months old, are prepared Nagoya-style: they are grilled straight away over sumi (charcoal) rather than the Kanto-style,where the eel is first grilled, then steamed and subsequently grilled again to create a soft, fluffier bite. 

Enjoy the 'unagi' with rice two ways: one topped with condiments (left) and another with a clear soup (right) to create an 'ochazuke'.

Eating Nagoya-style unagi is a four-step appreciation process.

Start by eating the eel and rice first—relishing the smoky flavour of the grilled version without sauce—where soft eel contrasts with the slightly chewier rice grains. 

As they use their custom-made tare to coat the grilled eel, I find it’s not too sweet or overly salty, providing a delicate flavour. 

In the next bowl, mix the eel with rice and the condiments — spring onions, wasabi, nori and a dash of sansho pepper — where the condiments balance out the richness of the eel. 

For the third bowl, mix the condiments with a clear soup to create an ochazuke. 

Hamachi Kama or grilled yellowtail collar is prepared so well that the fish flakes off beautifully.

For the fourth bowl, enjoy the unagi your favourite way.

Unajyu also comes with a silky, wobbly chawanmushi and a small salad. 

Negima Skewer is brushed with their 'tare' and the Momo Skewer is sprinkled with salt.

Befitting their name, sumi (charcoal) grilled items are their specialty, including yakitori and various proteins like different fishes, squid, chicken and beef, which includes Wagyu. 

Hamachi Kama or yellowtail collar (RM98) was a huge piece, well grilled over the fire to produce juicy flesh and all those succulent bits in the head. 

Slowly relish every part of the head and collar till the bones are cleaned out. 

Tebasaki Skewer is grilled until the chicken wing remains moist and juicy.

Yakitori is served two ways: shio (salt) or slicked with their tare. 

Momo Skewer (RM8) and Tebasaki Skewer (RM8) are sprinkled with salt only, drawing out the natural flavours of the chicken. 

Their style involves a much lighter golden char, which allows the chicken thigh and wings to retain their juices and stay moist. 

The dining area feels vast with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a view of Taman Desa.

Negima Skewer (RM8), featuring leeks and chicken, was coated with their house-made tare, a much lighter concoction that imparts a delicate flavour to the skewer. 

Other menu items include sashimi, sushi and maki, using fresh fish flown in from Japan. 

Rice lovers can enjoy their teishoku sets or various donburi (rice bowls) topped with either sashimi or grilled items.

Find the restaurant on the first floor of Wisma JAG.

Sumitaba Japanese Kitchen

Unit 1.02, Level 1, 

Wisma JAG, 

Jalan Desa Utama, 

Taman Desa, Kuala Lumpur.

Open: 11:30am to 3pm (Monday to Saturday), 5:30pm to 10pm (Sunday to Friday), 5:30pm to 9:30pm (Saturday)

Tel: 019-9079750

Instagram: @sumitaba.kl

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

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

KLANG, Sept 3 — My friend and colleague Keertan, who has the biggest collection of colourful shirts in the office, recently graduated with a Master of Public Policy degree. 

It was a moment of celebration not just for him, but for me too, as it had been the main thing putting off our long-overdue makan appointment. 

It was one that I was determined to make him keep, as he’s the only person I know willing to make the 30-plus minute trip to Klang on a weekday for lunch with me.

Which is why, on a recent Monday, we found ourselves at Swee Xiang Restaurant in Taman Klang Utama, staring down a plate of braised pig’s trotter, stomach and intestines in all their messy glory. 

I hadn’t told Keertan what we were going to eat; this being Klang, he naturally assumed we’d be having bak kut teh, which Swee Xiang does serve. But I was following a tip that told me to come for the hong bak instead.

If you’ve only heard of hong bak in a Penang context, especially the Peranakan variant where tau cheo (fermented soybean paste) and sand ginger are the main flavour components, this will seem quite alien. 

The restaurant can be found in Taman Klang Utama, occupying two shop lots. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Hong bak is simply Hokkien – and most Peranakan Chinese in Penang are Hokkien – for braised meat. 

In this context, it’s also a braised pork dish, but one that uses every part of the pig, especially the gelatinous bits and bobs, in a thick, sticky sauce heavy with soy sauce and warm spices like cinnamon and star anise. 

Go to the right place, and you can get it with chewy alkaline rice cakes, or kee ya kuih, another traditional Hokkien speciality.

Rather than the intoxicating, medicinal aroma of bak kut teh, it’s the smell of hong bak that greets you at Swee Xiang. 

Sure, some tables might have bak kut teh. But nearly every table here will have some form of hong bak. The standard portion of braised trotter (RM84) serves four and comes with pig tendons, intestines, stomach, chicken feet and hard boiled eggs; our thoughtful server, though, fixed us with a two-person serving (RM36) instead, tendons not included, so we ordered a separate portion of those (RM20). 

Pig tendons are braised until they’re just barely holding together. — Picture by Ethan Lau

To this, we added the faithful accompaniment of alkaline kuih (RM3), as well as long bean rice (RM2), one of two kiam peng (Hokkien savoury rice) options available on odd days of the week. Mustard green rice (RM2) is available on even days.

Keertan was well and truly outside his comfort zone, and it showed on his face when the hulking plate of trotter arrived, glistening from the sauce and jiggling under its own weight. 

Press a spoon onto the meat and it resists a light level of pressure before giving way like a hot knife through butter. 

The sauce, which coats the alkaline kuih like maple syrup on pancakes, is so full of fat and gelatin that a thin film, or “skin” begins to form on the surface if it’s left to sit even for a while.

I began describing the pieces of offal to Keertan; he replied that it might be better if he didn’t know what he was eating. 

The stomach is inoffensive enough, with a satisfying snap, but the intestines were a tad chewy for him. 

Long bean rice, available on odd days of the week, is reminiscent of Hokkien ‘kiam peng’. — Picture by Ethan Lau

I enjoyed them just fine, although I concur that their wrinkled appearance doesn’t help their case. 

Chicken feet were a step too far, however; the sticky, rubbery texture of the skin didn’t appeal to him, and I’m sure my juvenile toe-sucking innuendos helped matters greatly. 

But the surprise for both of us was how much he enjoyed the tendons: soft and almost luscious without completely falling apart, braised into tender, melting submission. 

“Wow, I would never have tried these if you had told me what they were,” he said, “but now I’m really liking them.”

The long bean rice was a dependable filler, and just to cover all bases, the fried meatball (RM15) is a crowd-pleaser that anyone and everyone is bound to enjoy: crisp exterior, juicy, crunchy pork mince interior studded with water chestnut and carrots for sweetness. 

We spent the rest of the time having multiple rounds of tea; he told me about his experiences moving into his first home, and I replied the only way I know how, with stories from college, when my life peaked. 

All that was left to do was reflect on that while staving off the post-lunch temptation to doze off during the 30-minute drive back.

If gelatin and fat aren’t your thing, there are also fried meatballs for some crispy contrast. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Swee Xiang Restaurant

7, 9, Lintang Sungai Keramat 10A/KU6, 

Taman Klang Utama,

Klang, Selangor.

Open daily, 7am-3pm. Open till 8pm from Friday to Sunday.

Tel: 016-684 9811

Facebook: Restoran Swee Xiang

* 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 hong bak adventures.

KUALA LUMPUR, Sept 2 — In 1948, Liew Foo Kuai began making pork meatballs from scratch at Hai Ying Restaurant in Sungai Siput.

These weren’t just any ordinary meatballs.

Smooth with a supple bite that tasted solely of the meat used to form it, the meatball was truly his commitment to creating the best product.

Back then, fresh pork was scarce in the town but Liew insisted on driving about 20 kilometers to Kuala Kangsar at midnight, to select meat from freshly slaughtered pigs.

It was a race against time to bring back the meat in tip top condition to ensure the meatballs would have their distinctive chewy texture.

Beef Brisket Soup features a slow-cooked broth using beef, pork bones and ginger, served with beef brisket, tendons and tripe that can be paired with their homemade spicy ‘sambal’. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Once he returned with his wife, they would make the meatballs and serve them at their freshest to their customers early in the morning.

His son, Liew Shan Yi, recreated these meatballs after many experiments, basing the recipe on his taste memory of his father’s work.

Now, the third generation has opened an outlet in Kepong, making the meatballs on-site using the same inherited techniques.

Their freshly-made Pork Meat Ball (RM1.60 per piece), fashioned without fillers or preservatives, has a bouncy texture and the unmistakable meaty aroma.

Yong Toufu and Toufu Puff (left) features a pork filling. Fried Wantans (right) are crunchy bites stuffed with the same pork filling. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

It is served with a clear, sweet broth made by slowly cooking pork bones over a low fire, which complements the meatballs.

The menu also includes Yong Toufu (RM2.50 per piece) and Toufu Puff (RM2.50 per piece), which are smooth beancurd and beancurd puff stuffed with the pork filling.

Beef Brisket Soup (RM14.90) features slow-cooked beef brisket, sliced tendons and tripe paired with a clear broth made from beef, pork bones and ginger, all simmered slowly over a low fire.

Springy egg noodles (left) are tossed in dark soy sauce and paired with various toppings. Curry chicken (right) with large chunks of chicken is served with soft cooked potatoes and a fragrant curry. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Usually served with a choice of noodles, the menu has expanded to include springy wantan noodles that can be ordered with charcoal-roasted char siu, a homestyle chicken curry, rich with santan and soft-cooked potatoes or braised chicken feet and mushrooms. There’s also a curry noodles soup version.

For variety, Yam Rice (RM4.50) served in bowls, features heaped brown soy sauce grains dotted with fried shallots and a subtle taro taste.

A bowl of Yam Rice can be paired with the Beef Brisket Soup and their signature Pork Meat Balls. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Flavours are much cleaner here especially with the broths but if you’re craving a spicier, tongue tingling taste, look for their homemade sambal to dip everything you eat.

Since the restaurant serves breakfast from 6am, they also offer butter kaya toast with half boiled eggs.

To keep up with modern tastes, they also offer an assortment of crunchy bites like Fried Wantans (five pieces for RM5, 10 pieces for RM8) and fried beancurd skin served flat or in rolls.

Started in 1948, that home style taste from Sungai Siput is recreated at their restaurant in Bandar Menjalara. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Hai Ying Restaurant

75, Jalan 5/62A,

Bandar Sri Menjalara,

Kepong, Kuala Lumpur.

Open daily: 6am to 5pm

Tel:011-10602623

Facebook: @Haiyingrestaurantkepong

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

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

KUALA LUMPUR, Aug 31 — Woman power rules the Kelantan food scene.

That entrepreneurial spirit from Kelantan has spread all the way to the Klang Valley, giving us Kelantanese food in all forms; from a humble, streetside gerai to full-fledged restaurants.

Kak Dah Nasi Berlauk Istimewa is no different; it was transported from Kereteh in Kelantan to our shores, starting out as a roadside stall with a makeshift canopy in 2022 that grew into a proper restaurant in Taman Dagang Permai.

On September 12, their third outlet will open at Unit B4-G-2, Gaya @ Melawati, Jalan Bandar Melawati, Taman Melawati, joining their stall located outside the primary school in Kereteh and their Ampang outlet.

The success of this business lies in 30-year-old recipes passed down from mother to daughter.

They offer around 20-plus lauk, mostly curries cooked in huge pots and grilled items, paired with plain rice, nasi dagang and nasi kerabu.

Nasi Dagang Ikan combines the slightly chewy brown flecked rice with that thick, creamy ‘gulai’ cooked from a legacy recipe and served with chunks of tuna fish. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Nasi Dagang Ikan (RM12) with its chewier brown flecked grains pairs best with their best-selling gulai ikan aya.

It’s not your typical watery gulai but a thick, luscious one with chunks of the fresh fish. green chilies, thickly cut cucumbers and a whole hard-boiled egg.

Even its colour isn’t an orange one but has a light yellow hue with a heavier hand on the turmeric.

As the slightly chewy grains absorb the thick gravy, each spoonful is a decadent combination you cannot stop eating.

Nasi Kerabu Ayam Percik (RM15) is another classic Kelantanese dish, featuring distinct blue coloured rice made using dried blue pea blossoms.

Nasi Kerabu Ayam Percik involves various ingredients mixed together with the blue coloured rice eaten with your choice of protein. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

It’s a combination of various flavours where the person behind the counter adds a dash of everything to create a masterpiece of sweet and spicy flavours with crunchy textures.

There’ll be a drizzle of budu (fermented fish sauce), a dollop of bright red sambal belacan, a clutch of ulam, raw bean sprouts, sambal tumis and serunding ikan.

Some will also add salted egg, pickled garlic or solok lada (stuffed green chillies), while fish crackers are placed on the side for extra crunch.

You can slowly mix a bit of everything into the rice as you’re eating, keeping it dry rather than mixing it all together, which will make it too wet.

Two versions of ‘ayam percik’ or grilled chicken can be found: one with a mild, creamy sauce and another with a spicier red sauce. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Remember also to select your protein from the counter, usually ayam percik or grilled chicken.

This place offers two versions: one covered with a creamy light orange rich coconut sauce or the red version, which uses the same coconut sauce but is laced with chillies for a sweet, spicy taste.

Or there’s the cult favourite lemak bakar (pieces of fat grilled over a hot fire), daging belangas (stir fried beef with turmeric, chilli sauce and oyster sauce), ayam bakar, daging bakar or ikan celup tepung goreng (deep-fried fish).

This place’s nasi kerabu has that sweet, spicy profile. A bonus is that the ulam isn’t overloaded with shredded cabbage and includes more shredded herbs.

Don’t miss the Kelantanese specialty Kerabu Sare (RM6), which is sourced from an outside supplier and placed in takeaway containers.

The seaweed salad uses a red algae that must be soaked to be edible.

Kerabu Sare is a rare treat so pick it up from the counter and combine the red algae with ‘sambal tumis’, chillies, lime and ‘kerisik’ for a healthy salad. — Pictures by Lee Khang Yi

Usually eaten during Ramadan and favoured by older folks, the algae is mixed with sambal tumis made from chilies, garlic, shallots, coconut milk and budu, which gives it a spicy flavour.

A dash of lime juice is added for a zingy flavour, along with chopped bird’s-eye chilies and kerisik. Some even add sliced green mango to freshen up the salad.

Once everything is mixed, the crunchy, refreshing algae absorbs the spicy flavour.

Do not miss out their splendid Pulut Pagi, a glorious combination of sticky rice with ‘gula Melaka’, grated coconut and red beans. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

You truly dive straight into Kelantan with their Pulut Pagi (RM5) – a glorious brown, sticky mess – completely the opposite of the usual plain white grains.

It feels like a Jekyll and Hyde of glutinous rice: the creamy version, paired with grilled fish, offers savoriness, while the brown version signifies a devilish one, tempting you down the path of sweetness with gula Melaka syrup.

The glutinous rice mixed with gula Melaka syrup is steamed twice for about 50 minutes per batch.

Various sweet treats like ‘lompat tikam’, sago ‘gula Melaka’ and more at the counter. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Both versions come dusted with nyior or freshly grated coconut, and a pinch of salt — the right way to bring out the sweet flavours.

It doesn’t just stop there as this version also has steamed red beans that combine well with the sticky rice and grated coconut.

Although usually eaten in the morning, the Pulut Pagi is their signature item and is available all day. 

They have also curated various desserts like lompat tikam (pandan pudding, pink coloured glutinous rice with santan and gula Melaka syrup), sago gula Melaka, kuih peria (red beans stuffed kuih shaped like a bitter gourd), and many other treats to tempt you.

It started as a roadside stall in Kereteh, Kelantan that expanded to this shop in Ampang and from September 12, another outlet will open in Taman Melawati – Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Kak Dah Nasi Berlauk Istimewa

No. G-5, Jalan Indah 1,

 Taman Dagang Permai, Ampang.

Open: 7am to 11pm.

Tel: 016-2119865

Facebook: @Kak-Dah-Berlauk-Istimewa

Instagram: @kakdahnasiberlaukistimewa

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

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

KUALA LUMPUR, Aug 30 — Long before the age of content creators, AI-generated scripts and “influencer voice,” there was the food television boom. 

The turn of the century was the golden age of food and travel programming on TV: Andrew Zimmern, Bobby Chinn and David Rocco took viewers to the far reaches of the globe — though I always got a tickle watching them exoticise food from our part of the world — and then, of course, there was the man himself: the very face of food and travel TV, often imitated but rarely replicated, Anthony Bourdain.

In Malaysia, we had our answer in Jason Yeoh, better known as Axian. 

Since 2000, he’s hosted numerous shows for both Astro and later, the Asian Food Channel, but it was Taste with Jason that made him a household name, especially in the Mandarin-speaking world.

But Yeoh didn’t set out to become the face of anything. 

In 1996, he was a radio deejay in Sarawak, moonlighting on air while studying telecommunications engineering; three years later, he was in Kuala Lumpur on NTV7’s Mandarin news desk, working his way up from journalist to assistant producer, but nowhere near the front of the camera.

However, he tells me food was always in the picture. 

Not quite the main event, but as an ever-present part of his life — growing up in Penang, his mother sold curry mee, his grandfather ran the canteen at a school, and Yeoh himself worked in the kitchen at Penang Turf Club through secondary school. 

“I never thought I would be hosting a food show,” he said. 

“At the time, nobody grew up wanting to be a food host. It wasn’t even a thing.”

We were sitting in a cafe at Sultan Abdul Aziz Shah Airport, Subang, an hour before his flight to Penang. 

He’d spent the past week filming in KL with his mother, who was flying back with him, before he left for China to film a new series. 

Several people had already recognised him by then — most just waved from a distance, one even tripped over himself doing it — but just then, two men politely interrupted to ask for a picture.

“So sorry to disturb, but are you Jason?” the taller one asked.

“Yes!” Yeoh said, nodding.

Yeoh’s shows have made him a household name both in and outside Malaysia, as these two fans from Hong Kong demonstrated. — Picture by Choo Choy May

“Oh, my goodness, we’re big fans! We’re from Hong Kong but came to Malaysia just to try all the food, and we especially loved Penang!” the man gushed. 

“Thank you so much for your show on the Asian Food Channel. Can we have a picture?”

Yeoh happily obliged, and then they switched to Cantonese, talking about how much his show had made them want to visit Malaysia, and their love of durians.

Although he never pictured ending up where he is today, Yeoh believes his inclination towards food is intrinsic. 

“I think it’s my ‘factory setting’. I didn’t go to culinary school or aspire to become a chef,” he explained. 

“But growing up in a Peranakan household, our kitchen was bigger than our living area. I was slaughtering chickens and pounding sambal belacan while my classmates couldn’t even clean bean sprouts.” 

Those same classmates pointed out Yeoh’s knack for storytelling from a young age, even while he considered his older brother to be the natural talker in the family, not himself. 

The knack for storytelling, coupled with his “factory setting” desire to work with food, was what eventually drew him toward food television.

But what he wanted to make wasn’t quite what food TV already liked. 

“Everybody was making food review guides, focusing on the opinion of the host. I didn’t want to only do that.” 

To Yeoh, whether a dish was good or bad was maybe only a fifth of the story worth telling. 

The rest — the why behind it, the community or family it came from — was the part he was truly interested in filming.

“It’s food anthropology. I’m curious about the evolution, origin and nature of entire cuisines.” 

Through it, Yeoh explores what he calls people “speaking different food languages”, and more often than not, drawing the line from one language to another. 

For Yeoh, starting some form of formal documentation process for Malaysian heritage food is important to pass down said heritage. — Picture by Choo Choy May

Yeoh, 53, has filmed more than 30 shows since 2000, but Taste with Jason — released in 2005 and ran for 10 seasons — remains the one most people associate with him. 

His newest series, Axian’s Local Eats, is a retrospective that sees him revisit restaurants and people previously featured on his shows. 

If there’s a single idea Yeoh keeps returning to over 20 years, it’s the loss of tradition in food.

But to him, it isn’t automatically a tragedy. 

“Tradition is constantly being lost, but it doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing,” he said. 

“You gain a new way of doing things when tradition is lost. You can’t pick up something new until you let go of what’s already in your hand, you know?”

He points to what happened to kopitiam-style chain restaurants after the pandemic as a case in point. 

Advances in food preservation and production technology extended shelf life in ways that made rapid franchise expansion possible in a way it simply wasn’t before — a business that started in KL could suddenly open in Penang within months, not years. 

The boundaries that once separated regional food scenes have, in his view, largely dissolved.

Whether that’s for better or worse, Yeoh can’t say — not yet. 

“There’s no way to say whether it’s a good or bad thing,” he said. 

“We might only know in 10 years whether this was good or bad. We need that hindsight.”

“But whether it’s good or bad isn’t important. What matters is that food continues to evolve.”

It’s something he traces back further than the last few years. 

Peranakan cuisine itself, he points out, only exists because earlier generations were willing to let their food change. 

“Imagine if the early Chinese were all sticklers for tradition and refused to evolve, we’d never get Nyonya cuisine,” he said. 

“The essence of a thriving food culture is constant change.”

For all his ease with change, there’s one thing Yeoh says hasn’t shifted in all his years of doing this: Malaysia still has no formal record of its own food history.

He cites an example of a kway chap maker in Penang who used to sun-dry the rice noodles for texture. 

When he revisited them recently, he found they now use a commercial oven. 

He feels the younger generation will miss out on tasting, or even knowing how these foods were traditionally prepared.

“If we are serious about passing down our local food heritage, the Malaysian government needs to include food education in the syllabus,” he said. 

“The process of formally documenting Malaysian food will also benefit our tourism, as they’ve done in Singapore.”

“I am forced to say, I’ve had to use sources from Singapore when doing research for the show,” he admits. 

“They’ve done a great job with their library. I don’t know if we’ve even started.”

Jason Yeoh’s new series, ‘Axian’s Local Eats’, is a 20-year retrospective that takes him back to many restaurants and families that he’s featured on his shows before. —Picture courtesy of Jason Yeoh

More than a decade ago, he says, the Ministry of Tourism, Arts and Culture approached him about building something like this. 

“But after one election cycle, it all went away completely.”

“If you ask me what hasn’t changed in 20 years of doing this show,” he said, “It’s this.”

The lack of importance placed on history doesn’t happen purely on an institutional level. It’s individual too. 

“The general public doesn’t really value history; but I believe that each family’s history is incredibly important,” he said. 

“A lot of families who we’ve featured on the show 10, 20 years ago, come looking for us after their grandparents pass away. 

“They tell us about how their grandparents would play their DVD of the show every day, and now they’ve lost the DVD and are hoping we can help. Most of the time, we can’t do much.”

It isn’t always a clean story of appreciation. 

Often, he says, the pride comes only after the fact — once the cameras, and the attention that follows them, have already done the work of convincing a family their business was worth keeping. 

“A lot of second- and third-generation in the family weren’t proud of their family business. They had no intention of taking over. When the tourists start showing up after our show is broadcast, then they start to feel pride in the business. Then there’s interest, and sometimes, there are disputes over the business.

“Our culture is like that. When there’s money involved, only then there’s something to be proud of. On one hand, I’m touched, but I’m not sure if it’s something to be proud of.”

For Yeoh, that complication doesn’t undo the larger point. 

“If we aren’t proud of our hawker culture, we’ll never be able to continue to develop our food culture. We have to be proud of ourselves — proud of being Malaysian, proud of being anything, being yourself. Only then can we carry on.”

What makes him happiest, 20 years in, isn’t the recognition. 

It’s seeing people from entirely different backgrounds tell him how much they love the show — proof, to him, that the pull toward food doesn’t care where you’re from. 

Food brings people together. It’s a way of understanding people deeply, he says, in a way little else manages.

I ask him why he’s still doing this, and the answer has nothing to do with fame, and not much to do with money either. 

“The inner happiness this gives me, nothing else comes close. It makes me feel that this one life is enough.” 

You’ll never be bored, he says. It’s enough, on its own, to make him content.

Axian’s Local Eats premieres September 5 on Astro AEC and Astro GO.

Instagram: @axian.my

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

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

JOHOR BAHRU, Aug 29 — Few things bring me back to my childhood like an unexpected treat.

A long forgotten candy, maybe, the sort of boiled sweet that was caked in tangy sherbet powder? Or one of those elegant bottles of fizzy drinks with an enticing but inscrutable name like “ice-cream soda”?

All good guesses but alas, I did not have a sweet tooth as a kid. Instead, my tongue always leaned towards the savoury.

New Lucky Seafood Restaurant in Taman Sri Tebrau, Johor Bahru. — Picture by CK Lim

Which is perhaps why my mouth is automatically watering when these hedgehog-like orbs arrive at our table looking. The surface has been scored into tiny cubes, the way you might score the flesh of a mango before turning it inside out.

I bite into one and there’s a satisfying bounce before the crust gives. This is fresh squid, chewy and a little briny.

The batter isn’t fancy panko breadcrumbs used for tonkatsu or a thick craggy coating typical of Southern fried chicken. No, the cook merely dusted the spheres in a whisper of cornstarch or rice flour, just enough for a delicate crispness.

Crystal Ice Vege Salad. — Picture by CK Lim

That and the sheer heat of a hot wok of oil.

The kitchen in question is at New Lucky Seafood Restaurant in Taman Sri Tebrau, Johor Bahru. And this is one of their signature dishes, a plate of Traditional Crispy Sotong Balls.

Founded in 1978, this nearly 50-year-old JB institution is older than many of its customers. Many of my local friends fondly remember visiting the longtime eatery with their families when they were younger.

Crispy Roasted Pork. — Picture by CK Lim

(Strange how their childhood haunt is stirring up my own cherished childhood memories, no? Strange but also wonderful.)

Naturally, one of my JB friends is doing the ordering; most of these are classics and safe bets, he tells us.

While I am enamoured with the old-school squid balls, the true showstopper for the rest of the table is New Lucky’s Crystal Ice Vege Salad (沙律冰菜).

Known as bing cai or “crystal ice vegetable”, it looks as though it has been left out in a hard frost, every leaf studded with tiny beads that catch the light like dew.

Homemade Golden Bean Curd. — Picture by CK Lim

Honestly, the flavour is barely there at all: a faint salinity, a mineral coolness. What stands out is its texture: bite into a leaf and it shatters pleasingly, crisp and brimming with juice.

Which is probably why it is best served raw and chilled, tossed in a salad alongside some fruits. Grapes (both green and purple), lychees and cherry tomatoes; a fruit salad, really,

Dressed with nothing more than a fragrant roasted sesame sauce, this salad isn’t overly fussy yet is majestic in its simplicity.

Asparagus with Scallops. — Picture by CK Lim

Yet not all dishes need to be a dazzling display or a breathtaking centrepiece.

The popular Crispy Roasted Pork is basically stir-fried siew yoke but everyone loves it. New Lucky’s Homemade Golden Bean Curd is no less compelling; the comfort staples is punched up by some braised luffa (angled gourd).

We complete our meal with a seasonal offering, Asparagus with Scallops, and a huge platter of their Fried Kway Teow with Cockles, which they kindly separate into smaller bowls for us.

Our friend rhapsodises about other house specialties, from their Steamed Salted Kampung Chicken to their Braised Fish Lips with Dry Scallops. Celebrated claypot creations include their Salted Fish and Pork Belly in Claypot and Braised Taro Paste and Pork Ribs in Claypot.

Fried Kway Teow with Cockles. — Picture by CK Lim

Since I’m Cantonese, he assures me I’ll approve of their Hong Kong Style Steamed Giant Grouper too. We need to visit a few more times for you to try them all, he insists.

And we will. For the best part of discovering a good restaurant isn’t really about trying every dish on the menu but for the promise of gathering again and catching up.

Old friends in old restaurants: now that’s a true treat.

New Lucky Seafood Restaurant

1-5, Jalan Keris, 

Taman Sri Tebrau, Johor Bahru.

Open daily 11:15am-10:45pm

Phone: 07-338 3822

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

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

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

KUALA LUMPUR, Aug 28 — September just got a lot sweeter as Japan’s I’m donut? will be opening at The Exchange TRX on September 12. 

Founded by chef-owner Ryota Hirako back in 2022, the donut specialty shop has locations all over Japan, Seoul and New York. Some outlets are also labelled gluten-free. 

This Malaysian outlet located on the ground floor of The Exchange TRX will be their first Southeast-Asian outpost. 

Another outlet in Jakarta has also been teased on social media, but there is no confirmed opening date yet. 

What makes these nama donuts totally unlike a traditional donut is their crisp exterior and airy, soft interior that melts in the mouth — so much so that even the donut faces an existential crisis, asking, “Am I a donut?”

All of their donuts are carefully shaped and fried by hand (left). The donuts use cream that is made in-house (right). — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

That’s why each paper covering your takeaway donuts has a question mark on it. 

That impossibly cloud-like texture comes from an original brioche dough, which uses a secret flour blend combined with Japanese kabocha pumpkin.

For Malaysia’s opening, they hired Japanese art director Yuni Yoshida to design visuals that imagine the donuts as bejewelled pieces.

The talented artist has also teased her artistic visuals to mark the I’m donut? opening in New York and Seoul. 

For the New York shop, she created framed paintings of the donuts and their ingredients, while Seoul’s opening visuals featured donuts in table settings, candlesticks, mugs and glasses

Expect to indulge in a range of their nama donuts, such as the Original filled with custard and various other fillings like Pistachio Cream, which is made with pistachio paste and fresh cream. 

There will be the Nama French Cruller dusted with icing sugar and of course, a decadent Cacao one crowned with cacao nibs.

While sweet flavours dominate, savoury ones aren’t ignored, leaving no room for those who dislike sweets to argue that they cannot enjoy the donuts.

Savoury donuts are available in their other outlets like this Anchovy Cream one in Seoul (left). Glazed donuts are also made into sandwiches with various fillings (right). — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

In Japan, savoury toppings include teriyaki egg, keema curry and prosciutto. 

New York offers a range where glazed donuts become a BLT or chicken teriyaki ginger sandwich. 

Each country has its own exclusive limited flavours. For instance, New York has fillings like peanut butter cream and concord grape jelly and a dry junmai sake and chantilly cream.

In South Korea, flavours are inspired by familiar ingredients like seaweed, honey makgeolli cream, matcha honey sesame cream and even popular Korean dishes like bossam.

Limited edition flavours have also been introduced in Seoul and New York, like a seaweed flavour (left) and a ‘bossam’ inspired donut (right). — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

This June saw a collaboration with K-pop group Aespa who unveiled, I’m a lemon and a sour tiramisu donut to promote the release of their song, Lemonade. 

Who knows what Malaysia’s limited editions will be — perhaps one with pandan and gula Melaka or maybe even a nasi lemak version?

We wait with bated breath for the September 12 reveal.

I’m donut?

GS.05.0, The Exchange TRX, 

Persiaran TRX, 

Tun Razak Exchange, Kuala Lumpur. 

Open from September 12 from 10am to 10pm.

Instagram: @imdonut.mys

KUALA LUMPUR, Aug 27 — “Is this the right place?” my girlfriend asked.

“I don’t know. My dad said to look for a bunch of car workshops, and I assume these are the workshops we’re looking for.” I replied, painfully aware that this end of Segambut is practically made up exclusively of car workshops.

Ever since my father’s office moved to Jalan Ipoh a few months ago, he’s become our household’s de facto guide for the best food around Jalan Ipoh and Segambut.

Soon Kee is little more than a shack, but it puts the ‘yum’ in ‘under the yum-yum tree’ — Picture by Ethan Lau

We were following up on a tip from him about a dai chow that reportedly serves shark lips — a delicacy seldom seen even in Chinese speciality seafood restaurants.

Eventually, after following directions from the little mass surveillance device in my pocket, we reached a triangle-shaped clearing hemmed in by three tall, imposing rows of car workshops.

Ah. So that’s why he called it the Bermuda Triangle.

Shady trees flank each side; an electrical substation sits at one edge, and a shack bears a sign reading “Kedai Kopi Soon Kee”, wearing all four decades of its age.

At the centre, a bit of open space doubles as Soon Kee’s makeshift parking lot.

My father had described the proprietress as “a character”.

Nothing could have prepared us for what, or who, we were about to experience.

I’ve met my share of colourful matrons: a particularly memorable one was a boisterous Chinese lady who ran a garish Italian osteria with her husband — a meek, soft-spoken chef, constantly on the receiving end of her ranting.

It was always delivered in fluent Italian, but at a volume that could only be described as Hokkien.

Not long after we sat down, Soon Kee’s si tau po walked over, her frizzy hair dyed a mix of shocking blue and Barney purple.

She began rattling off the signature dishes in a gravelly tone — shark lips (sa yu seun, RM80), slipper lobster (ha po, RM70), fried stuffed beancurd (zao fu chuk, RM24) — all while munching on a piece of fruit.

‘Ha po’ or slipper lobster, battered and lightly fried with scallions and onions — Picture by Ethan Lau

Midway through, a bit of fruit flew out and landed on her apron.

Stone-faced and without missing a beat, she wiped it off with a tissue and continued recommending dishes, including pork rib curry (RM40) and tofu in wat dan sauce (RM28) — the latter came with a wager: if we didn’t like it, it was on the house, but if we did, we’d pay double.

She was right, of course, but never made us pay up. I couldn’t help but admire the salesmanship.

If you’ve never had shark lips, the name makes them sound more intimate than they actually are.

They’re taken from the portion near the tail, dense with gelatin that, cooked well, turns into a luscious jelly rich with collagen.

Soon Kee steams it briefly in a thick, mildly savoury sauce, topped with fried garlic and ginger. It’s a lovely textural experience, particularly with rice, and crucially, free of any lingering ammonia scent.

And the ha po — crunchy, battered pieces enveloping firm, meaty bits of slipper lobster — are addictive in their own lightly fried onion-and-scallion right.

The fried stuffed beancurd, a signature at Soon Kee, comes in two forms: a fried roll of beancurd skin stuffed with fish paste, and cream puff-sized fried wontons filled with fish paste, which snap crunchily in the mouth without shattering into a million pieces.

Regrettably, the pork rib curry was watery and bland — I wish she’d wagered on that one instead.

The signature fried beancurd comes in two shapes: a beancurd skin roll and a ‘wonton’ the size of a cream puff — Picture by Ethan Lau

But the tofu in wat dan sauce was unexpectedly brilliant: smooth pieces of fried egg tofu bobbed around in one of the most flavourful egg gravies I’ve ever tried, imbued with the power of a shedload of onions.

As we ate, the si tau po gave me stick for not pouring tea for my parents — fully deserved — and, to our great amusement, came back to revel in being right about the tofu, in a jumble of Hokkien, Mandarin and Cantonese, all spoken at a million miles an hour.

But that’s Segambut for you — really, most of Kuala Lumpur for you — unglamorous on the surface, filled with places you’d drive past a hundred times without a second look, until someone tells you otherwise.

Tofu in ‘wat dan’ sauce rarely sounds like a world-beater, but it is a surprisingly brilliant dish at Soon Kee — Picture by Ethan Lau.

Soon Kee won’t win over anyone put off by the setting, and it doesn’t try to.

The si tau po isn’t there to charm you into liking it.

She already knows you will.

Kedai Makanan Soon Kee

Jalan 2/57D,

Segambut, Kuala Lumpur.

Open daily, 11.30am-3pm, 6-9.15pm. Only open for dinner on Sundays. Two days off a month.

Tel: 012-292 8993

• 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 shark lips and colourful characters.

KUALA LUMPUR, Aug 27 — Back in Bangkok, I would hear my Thai friends say “Taan a rai dee krub?”, which basically meant “What should we eat?” or “What tastes good?”

(That’s the polite version, at any rate. For my closer friends, they’d use the more casual “Gin a rai dee?” The switching between formal and informal speech, depending on seniority and level of intimacy, always fascinates me. What a beautiful language.)

I love that question, for it always meant a healthy debate on what to eat next, and everyone had an opinion. The best part was that nearly all the suggestions were good ones.

It’s easy to find good food in Thailand, you see. One is spoiled for choice.

Outside of the Land of Smiles, however, too often we find Thai cuisine watered down or adapted for local palates. 

More often than not, this means spicy dishes end up fairly tame compared to the originals. Substitutes are common; I had pad krapao once at a supposedly authentic Thai restaurant that used Thai sweet basil instead of the correct holy basil.

The restaurant offers a slightly more elevated fare than the usual Thai street food. — Picture by CK Lim

Which is why it is a nice surprise to stumble upon Taan Thai at Sunway Velocity. The restaurant straddles convenience (located as it is in the basement food level) and a slightly more elevated fare than the usual Thai street food or mookata offerings elsewhere.

The menu is extensive but our helpful server made some suggestions, though ultimately we stuck to a mix of old favourites and new dishes we’ve not encountered before.

You can’t go wrong with Thai milk tea (cha nom yen); Taan Thai’s version showcases a smidgen of dramatic flair by separating the milk and the Thai tea.

Given how common this gimmick is nowadays at specialty coffee shops, the thrill is, admittedly, missing. 

However, it is useful as we could adjust the beverage to our liking, leaving some of the tea for later to avoid it being diluted too much by the melting ice cubes.

Thai milk tea (left) and coffee blossom tea (right). — Picture by CK Lim

For something different, there is their coffee blossom tea (kafae “blossom”), which reminded me of brewed cascara, a type of tea made from the dried outer husks and pulp of the coffee cherry. 

Unlike cascara, which is typically more fruity and tart, the kafae “blossom” tasted more earthy.

Time for our mains, or our starches to be exact. (How could we have a South-east Asian meal without rice or noodles, right?)

Northern style chicken curry noodle (‘khao soi gai’). — Picture by CK Lim

My favourite dish when visiting Chiang Mai is khao soi gai, which is a Northern style chicken curry noodle dish. Creamy coconut milk and red curry paste (hence the golden hue of the broth) make this an utterly aromatic bowl.

Beyond the hefty chicken drumstick (fall-off-the-bone, as expected), the key ingredient has to be the iconic topping of crunchy deep-fried egg noodles. A lovely contrast to the softer, boiled noodles hidden beneath in the soup.

Some pickled mustard greens, raw shallots and lime help cut through the richness of the broth. Don’t forget to add a bit of the prik nam man, that dark red and smoky chilli oil that is served alongside the khao soi — it’s so addictive!

Shrimp roe fried rice with tiger prawns (‘khao pad man goong’). — Picture by CK Lim

A simpler looking but no less scrumptious choice of carbs, the shrimp roe fried rice with tiger prawns (khao pad man goong) is intensely savoury, with an extra hit of umami from the divine addition of dried shrimp.

Given the abundance of sharing plate options, we shortlisted our picks to one vegetable and one protein.

For the former, we had the crispy morning glory with Taan Thai special sauce (phak bung tod krob kab nam chim rot priao ped). The staff told us that the sauce in question is made with prawn and pork.

Crispy morning glory with Taan Thai special sauce (‘phak bung tod krob kab nam chim rot priao ped’). — Picture by CK Lim

Chunky and spicy, this dip (or dressing, if you pour it over the tempura fried greens, though this will make them soggy rather quickly) truly transforms the phak bung tod krob; we agreed this was the showstopper of our meal.

The Isaan style grilled pork neck (kor moo yang) is more tender than charred. There’s no replacing the roadside vendors in tiny Thai back lanes, I guess, grilling meat over smoky charcoal.

Isaan style grilled pork neck (‘kor moo yang’). — Picture by CK Lim

Instead what Taan Thai reminds us of is Kub Kao’ Kub Pla, Baan Ice and Khua Kling Pak Sod: Thai restaurants in Bangkok shopping malls, offering a good balance of comfort (read: air conditioning) and refined casual dining.

These are places where local Thais actually eat, at least my friends in Bangkok, when they ask each other “Gin a rai dee?”

Now I know where to bring them when they visit KL and ask me the same question here.

Taan Thai

B-25, Level B1, 

Sunway Velocity Mall, 

Cheras, KL.

Open daily 11am-9:30pm

Phone: 011-6547 1811

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

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

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

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

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

KUALA LUMPUR, Aug 27 — One of Bangsar’s long-standing coffee shops, Restoran Berjaya, has decided to call it a day after 45 years in business.

Their last day is slated for August 30. 

The late Choo Wai Mun and his wife, Madam Ho, started as a food stall at a corner coffee shop in Lucky Garden, where ParkCity Pharmacy is presently located. 

The restaurant moved to its present premises in 2023 from its older shop further down Jalan Telawi. — Picture by Choo Choy May

The stall moved around Lucky Garden a few times before settling down in its own shop at No. 44, Jalan Telawi. Later in 2023, they shifted to No. 30, Jalan Telawi. 

About three years ago, Choo died and Madam Ho and her two daughters have been holding the fort since.  

Madeleine Choo cooks the noodles while Madam Ho oversees the preparation of the Nasi Padang dishes. 

Another daughter, who runs her own Korean restaurant, assists with social media on their Facebook page. 

Madeleine explained that her parents decided to cook food using halal ingredients at their first shop because their landlord was Malay. 

Relish your last plate of Nasi Padang with ‘dendeng’, ‘tempeh’ with crunchy ‘ikan bilis’ and fried spinach before the restaurant closes. — Picture by Choo Choy May

They offered an array of noodles like curry mee, wantan mee, fishball noodles, yong tau foo and fried wantans, served alongside Nasi Padang. 

Madam Ho picked up the recipes for the Nasi Padang dishes from their Indonesian workers. 

“Once mother took over, she modified and changed the dishes to suit the Malaysian taste until they could accept it,” Madeleine added. 

Everyone’s favourite is their unique ‘dendeng’ where pounded beef is combined with their secret sauce laced with oil, chilies, and onions. — Picture by Choo Choy May

An iconic dish that graces almost every plate is the superb dendeng. 

Preparing the dish is laborious but no one leaves without eating it. 

Chunks of beef are coated with spices and deep-fried until they blacken, creating an aromatic crust. 

It’s cut into thick pieces, and each piece is pounded in a mortar and pestle before being combined with a sauce layered with oil, chilies, and thickly sliced onions.

Another popular item is their ‘bergedil’ with its fluffy mashed potato filling. — Picture by Choo Choy May

The popularity of this dish means around 40 kilogrammes of beef sell out within two days. 

Because securing workers has been difficult, they now only have two helping out instead of the previous team of eight.

Madam Ho must keep a strict eye to ensure the food is prepared the way she wants, hence she has reduced some offerings like nasi lemak and fewer dishes for their Nasi Padang.  

With the lease up for renewal and an increase in rent, Madam Ho, who is now 76, decided it was time to retire as she has been working since she was 29. 

Following the announcement on August 25, devoted customers, mostly multi-generational families, have been trickling in to relish their favourite dishes one last time and say goodbye to Madam Ho. 

Many devoted customers like Rohani Abdullah and her husband Rosley Hussin have visited to eat their favourite bowl of curry ‘mee’ and snap a photograph with Madam Ho as a keepsake. — Picture by Choo Choy May

One of them is Rosley Hussin, 84, and his wife, Rohani Abdullah, 81, who have been eating here since Rohani was pregnant with their son, Fahim Rosley, who is now in his forties.

“It’s very sad they are closing, and we have always been confident in their food because the trust has been there all the time,” Rohani explained.

The octogenarian couple’s four children grew up eating the restaurant’s food, and the third generation, Fahim’s son, is also a fan of their food.

The restaurant is packed with diners, mostly locals and even a few Japanese, who are here to enjoy their regular orders. — Picture by Choo Choy May

Nikmat M, who used to live in Bangsar, was visiting to eat a plate of rice with the dendeng and vegetables.  

For the 66-year-old, the taste of the pounded beef still remains the same.

A visit to Restoran Berjaya is incomplete without tasting their iconic curry ‘mee’ that one customer even packed home to freeze and eat when he misses the nostalgic taste. — Picture by Choo Choy May

As a keepsake, he packed a portion of his cherished curry mee to store in the freezer, planning to eat it when he misses the place. 

Restoran Berjaya

30, Jalan Telawi, 

Bangsar, Kuala Lumpur.

Open: 7:30am to 5:30pm

Facebook: @restoranberjayaofficial

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

KUALA LUMPUR, Aug 26 — Calories don’t count when you’re hitting up this pasta-den in the bohemian enclave of Wisma Cosway, where fried rice and chicken rice sit side by side with fish and chips, Thai noodles and tacos. 

Fresh pasta geeks will be happy to know Francobolli crafts its pasta in all shapes and sizes using Italian flour and eggs.

Luca, the owner, started pasta making as a hobby that became a serious business; for five years, he supplied local Italian establishments with their machine-stamped pasta.  

Pasta dishes like this Cacio E Pepe are simple and not overburdened with ingredients, allowing one to relish the texture of the pasta coated with a silky cheese sauce dotted with black pepper. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Snag a seat at the counter, or if you’re lucky, one of the limited tables inside the compact space where pasta is cooked in the open kitchen, without the pretentiousness you find at other highbrow places. 

The fresh pasta is timed perfectly, right up to the last minute (cue that line of timers over the stove) to ensure it hits your table al dente.

Luca adds the final flourish of the sauce, finishing it off with finely shaved Grana Padano and a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil. 

Pasta choices are limited to four or five items, each using a different shape, available à la carte or as a set with focaccia. 

Broad pappardelle (left) coated with the sauce is the highlight of the Duck Crackling Carbonara (right) with its crunchy croutons of duck fat. — Pictures by Lee Khang Yi

Consider getting the set with the focaccia if you’re a devoted fan of sauce, as you can pinch a bit of the bread to fare la scarpetta, which is making a little shoe — to wipe the plate clean of sauce. 

This is a big compliment to the chef, showing you thoroughly enjoyed the meal. 

The Wagyu Ragu Mafalde (RM32) is a masterpiece; the ribbon pasta with frilly edges catches the mellow, long cooked ragu, allowing you to taste the slightly sweet San Marzano tomatoes along with the silky, tender Wagyu beef.

It’s a more harmonious pairing compared to using the wider pappardelle, often a default choice for restaurants here, where the ragu sometimes slides off the ribbons. 

Unfurl the tagliatelle to mix that rich truffle sauce with smoked duck cut in cubes for a satisfying lunch. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Cacio E Pepe (RM28) may look simple — just a cheese sauce conjured up with Pecorino Romano and dusted with black pepper — but this silky sauce clings so well to their pasta choice, the tube-like rigatoni, that very little sauce pools at the bottom of the plate. 

A new addition to the menu is the Duck Crackling Carbonara (RM36), which uses egg yolk pappardelle for a richer pasta.  

The broad noodles are coated with the carbonara and bits of grated cheese, while the duck crackling croutons provide a crispy, crunch and a savoury flavour to the whole dish. 

Usually guanciale is used, but since the establishment doesn’t use pork, they have swapped it for duck, which mimics the rich, savoury taste. 

Duck is also the highlight of their Smoked Duck & Truffle Pasta (RM32), which uses egg yolk tagliatelle. 

The silky, thinner ribbons gets a rich truffle sauce accompanied by cubed smoked duck and is topped with finely grated cheese. 

End the meal here with a slice of their tiramisu, which has a coffee-soaked sponge and cream. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

The only dessert (dolce) to end the meal is Tiramisu (RM15), the owner’s favourite, featuring a fluffy, coffee-soaked sponge and cream to relish. 

On weekdays, the vibe is busy, busy, as lunchtime is a rushed affair for the office workers utilising their precious one-hour break. 

Consider visiting on a Saturday, as it’s more chill then, allowing you to relish the food a little more leisurely. 

You can also explore the building’s narrow corridors, which are caught in a 1980s time warp since it was built around 40 years ago, for coffee to keep awake and more desserts like a superb bitter caramel gelato from Gelato Espresso Bar by Wild Sheep Chase on the ground floor. 

Francobolli may be located side by side with local food places, but it serves soulful Italian pasta in a cosy place. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Francobolli

Lot 1.25, First Floor, 

Wisma Cosway,

88 Jalan Raja Chulan, 

Bukit Bintang, Kuala Lumpur.

Open: 11am to 3pm (Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday)

Instagram: @francobollipasta

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

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

KUALA LUMPUR, Aug 25 — Open faced sandwiches don’t get much fancier than this.

First a generous spread of homemade tofu dressing. Studded with confit garlic and cherry tomatoes; the latter likely oven dried. A few leaves of sweet basil and a good glug of extra virgin olive oil sprinkled liberally over it all.

Now this is what I’d call a proper tartine, not exactly extravagant, given its humble but carefully chosen ingredients, but celebratory, certainly.

It’s worth celebrating, then, that we stumbled upon this relative newcomer to KL’s teeming café and specialty coffee scene:  All Time Roasting Company.

Located in Taman Overseas Union, the shop is just a year old and already has its coterie of customers who range from neighbourhood residents dropping by for their morning cuppa to committed coffee connoisseurs.

All Time Roasting Company is located in Taman Overseas Union. — Picture by CK Lim

The cobalt blue shutters and the terracotta toned tiles on the doorway lead us into a more minimalist space. White walls and washed concrete flooring. The roastery on one side and the coffee bar on the other.

A clutter-free set-up, all the better to appreciate the café and roastery’s coffee. There are three of us; two decide on filter coffee whilst the third prefers a milk coffee.

For the pour-over coffee, our barista first recommends the Ethiopia Cup of Excellence (COE) #21 lot from Arbegona Woreda. 

A natural process coffee, the resultant cup is a vibrant tapestry of zesty bergamot, crisp green apple and delicate lemongrass.

Roastery on one side, the coffee bar on the other. — Picture by CK Lim

Of course, you could say one can never go wrong with an Ethiopian coffee, but even exemplary beans can be roasted or brewed poorly. Fortunately for us, this is a delightful cup. Splendid, really.

An entirely more adventurous choice is the Thailand Srima Mango. Hailing from Chiang Rai, this light roast coffee first underwent an experimental double-stage anaerobic fermentation.

The barista explains that the beans were co-fermented with fresh mango to develop a juicy, almost tropical flavour. 

Then the coffee was dried using the honey process, leaving a little of the fruit’s sticky mucilage clinging to the beans, bringing with it a deeper sweetness.

Brewing pour-over coffee. — Pictures by CK Lim

For our flat white, the barista recommends a medium roast espresso coffee. In this case, the Brazil beans from Sul de Minas promises a smooth and nutty cuppa when combined with milk.

This is a natural process coffee, so we enjoy a lovely sweetness with flavour notes of dates and almonds. Full body and balanced, with low acidity, this flat white is easy to drink.

We enjoy our coffees with the café’s savoury sandwiches, eschewing the sweeter offerings such as their alcoholic tiramisu and coffee jelly with sea salt cream.

‘Shiopan’ and flat white. — Picture by CK Lim

Given that the trending Japanese salt bread is everywhere nowadays, it’s perhaps inevitable that the menu also has shiopan. Here it comes with a side of egg mayo, which reminds us of the filling of tamago sando you can find in all konbini (convenience stores).

There is the aforementioned tofu-based open sandwich, of course. For something heartier, and perhaps a little more indulgent, we try their tuna melt double cheese sourdough toastie.

Ah well. We console ourselves that all that cheese is offset by the protein and omega-3 fatty acids of the fish. (Indulgent doesn’t have to be decadent if you can find some healthy side to allowing yourself something pleasurable.)

Tuna melt double cheese sourdough toastie. — Picture by CK Lim

Be it bold brews or blissful bakes, All Time Roasting Company has been a pleasant surprise on all fronts. 

Proof, perhaps, that there is no such thing as a glut of coffee shops, only a dearth of ones that do their job well. As far as that goes, All Time Roasting Company hits the mark.

All Time Roasting Company

9, Jalan Awan Hijau 1, 

Taman Overseas Union, KL.

Open daily (except Thu closed) 10am-6pm

Phone: 010-825 9711

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

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

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

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

PETALING JAYA, Aug 24 — Located in the square of shops around Atria Shopping Gallery, this restaurant feels underrated for its Teochew eats. 

Many know it for its Teochew-style bak kut teh: a much lighter herbal version that doesn’t command as large a fan base as the darker, deeper herbal-tasting Klang Hokkien bak kut teh.

The restaurant’s story dates back to 1983 when it was known as Papajoo Teochew Bak Kut Teh, starting as a humble stall in the OUG market before relocating to Happy Garden, PJ’s SS2, and finally to its present spot. 

Teochew-style Hometown Stir-fried Fish has a dark, thick sauce flavoured with aromatics like leeks, dried chilies, lard fritters, and sliced bird's eye chilies.

This type of bak kut teh is often described in Singapore as having an aggressive pepper punch, but this version lacks that intensity. 

Instead, it’s a sweet, savoury tasting pork broth lightly scented with herbs, making it easier to drink every drop. 

I especially enjoy its purity because it doesn’t leave an oily aftertaste after drinking the broth. 

Each piece of meat and offal is cooked until tender yet still retains its shape. 

The bak kut teh can be ordered with a mix of different cuts of pork for RM20 per person. 

The menu includes the unusual silver silago fillet, or what we call 'ikan bulus,' which has fine flesh and is served deep-fried in a light, crispy batter.

The portion I had came from the lunch set for RM18.80, which included a side dish. Other choices include dry bak kut teh, braised pork, stomach pepper soup and even a vege bak kut teh. 

Their spare ribs pot, a signature dish, requires pre-order at least 2 hours in advance. 

What makes this place more interesting is their wide selection of home-style cooked dishes, some with Teochew flavours, that you don’t really see in other restaurants. 

Tiny mini clams with their delicate paper-like shells are a real treat stir-fried with garlic, spring onions and sliced chilli.

Of course, there’s Teochew style steamed fish with its tangy flavours, but there are also unusual cooking methods like Teochew stir fried fish with curry powder and ham choy. 

The Teo Chew Style Hometown Stir Fried Fish (small for RM35. big for RM50) has a deep flavour; the dark, thick sauce is stir-fried with dried chilies and lard fritters, spiced up with fiery sliced bird’s-eye chilies.

It’s a dish that requires a bowl of rice to balance out those strong flavours. 

Homemade Cai Kueh (left) is abundantly stuffed with finely chopped shrimps, cabbage, carrot, dried beancurd, long beans and yam bean. Peach-shaped Glutinous Rice Kueh (right) is stuffed with an aromatic filling of glutinous rice, dried shrimps, shiitake mushroom, celery and beancurd.

Since they ran out of their usual fish, it was swapped with stingray, which didn’t match well because the fish was a tad overdone. 

The menu also features other goodies, like Deep-Fried Silver Silago Fillet, baby pomfret and the rarely seen pan-fried tongue fish. 

The tongue fish, a flat fish, is prized for its fine flesh. 

Although it may be listed on the menu, it is currently unavailable because supply is limited due to the scarcity of this fish that lives in soft mud.  

Teo Chew Yam Paste has two flavours: one with sweet pumpkin and another with purple sweet potato, which can be purchased frozen to take home.

Deep Fried Silver Silago Fillet (RM35) was the other pick; it is deboned ikan bulus deep-fried with a light, crunchy crust served with chilli sauce. 

Another rarely seen item is their baby lala clams, as most places serve flower clams or the thicker subak clams. 

These Stir Fried Mini Lala (RM15) have paper thin shells and taste sweet, requiring minimal seasoning like garlic, spring onions and chillies. 

Patience is much needed to enjoy these clams, as they’re fiddly compared to the larger shells. 

Some Teochew dishes require pre-ordering as they are made upon order and time to cook ike their Teochew braised duck and braised pork trotters. 

It feels like a family kitchen where prep work for their dishes is done at the tables.

Don’t miss their homemade Teochew kuih which the family’s matriarch makes in small batches.

Regulars know to walk in to pick up the hand crafted kuih.  

Traditional peach shaped Png Kuih or Glutinous Rice Cake (RM3.50 per piece) is stuffed with glutinous rice filling perfumed with shiitake mushrooms and dried shrimps. 

Cai Kueh (RM1.80 per piece, minimum order of 3 pieces) is generously stuffed with finely chopped shrimp meat, cabbage, carrot, dry tofu, long beans and yam bean. 

The kuih are made from Tuesday to Saturday. Usually they’re available from lunchtime, except on Tuesday when they are ready around 4pm since the restaurant is closed on Monday. 

Or Nee (Teochew Yam Paste) can also be bought here frozen for RM8 and steamed at home. Or if you don’t mind waiting 20 minutes, the restaurant can steam it for you.  

It’s paired with sweet pumpkin or sweet potato. 

The restaurant is a few doors from Restoran Ah Pei Char Siu.

Restoran New Teo Chew

48, Jalan SS22/25, 

Damansara Jaya, Petaling Jaya.

Open 9am to 3pm, and 5pm to 8:30pm. Closed on Mondays. 

Tel: 012-6776809

Facebook: @newteochewbkt

Instagram: @newteochewbkt

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

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

PETALING JAYA, Aug 23 — There’s no other way to say it: chef Andy Choy is building an empire.

In the last two months, he’s either revamped or opened four new brands.

June saw the arrival of Mala Bistronome, a fusion malatang spot in TTDI born out of Zaataru, the short-lived collaboration with Ameer Alzalek (Leen’s, S.A.J. Bistronomy) and Joel Kirk.

In July, his hospitality group Cendul debuted Fleur Bakehouse, a Peranakan-inspired viennoiserie on the ground floor of Menara Access World in Seksyen 19, one floor below THB Bistronome — also his — which opened last December.

Then came Sept in August, a French-Japanese cafe by day and bistro by night, soft-launched into the Seventeen Mall unit previously held by Ren Ren Noodle, and before that, Superfine.

And because that isn’t enough, he’s also taken over and revamped Mellow, the natural wine bar next door — this time, however, he’s expanding the list beyond wines that are strictly “natural.”

Sept was about three-quarters full when I met Choy early in the afternoon.

Sept is one of four new casual restaurant brands that Choy has opened in the last two months. A French-Japanese cafe by day and bistro by night, it takes over a space in Seventeen Mall right next to Mellow, also recently revamped by Choy. — Picture by Choo Choy May

He’s 39, a partner in TTDI’s Leen’s and S.A.J. Bistronomy, and took up the executive chef role at Brasserie Alma this year, on top of running Cendul’s seven concepts.

He’d just wrapped an earlier meeting when he greeted me.

Choy grew up in Penang, a sickly child, on a diet of bland food with no spice and very little salt; otherwise, he would get an “asthma-like reaction” and have coughing fits.

“I couldn’t even eat kuey teow soup,” he recalls. “My dad would have to dilute the soup with water so I could eat it.”

When he grew out of the condition, he embarked on a revenge tour, eating everything he’d been denied: fried chicken, mee goreng mamak, laksa.

By the time he was 11, eating was all he thought about at school, and he sometimes ate seven or eight times in a day.

The expenditure quickly outstripped his pocket money, so Choy started experimenting in the kitchen instead.

“I really liked KFC’s mashed potatoes, so I tried making them on my own,” he said. “But they weren’t as smooth. We didn’t have butter, but we had margarine, and I would try to recreate it with that. My first ever mashed potatoes.”

By his own account, Choy’s academic and athletic pursuits were unremarkable.

His great joy came from the Boy Scouts, where he often found himself heading the camp kitchen.

“I was always in charge of cooking when we camped,” he said. “Everyone loved it, I was winning awards, and I began loving to cook, especially when people told me my cooking was good.”

That validation planted the idea: after school, he’d go to culinary school.

His parents weren’t convinced, and culinary school wasn’t cheap, so they agreed that Choy would prove himself in a kitchen first.

At 15, he took a part-time job at Pizza Hut. Two years later, with Form 6 or culinary school still an open question, he landed a full-time position at Hu Ji Chinese Restaurant in the now-closed Copthorne Hotel Penang.

Both experiences solidified his desire to join culinary school, to his father’s dismay and disapproval.

His father would only support Choy through culinary school if he won a scholarship, which Choy said came down to luck: none of the high-scoring students in his class wanted one, so it fell down the list and into his hands.

He enrolled in KDU Penang’s culinary program, which was still in its infancy.

“We had eight people in the butchery class, and only two chickens to practice with,” he said. “Four people cutting one chicken. We’d get maybe one or two cuts each?”

That wasn’t enough practice for Choy, so he started buying chickens to practise on his own at home.

After graduating, he took on a culinary and hospitality management course in Switzerland.

A scholarship helped cover some portion of it, except this time it wasn’t luck. Choy excelled at KDU, but his father still had to sell his car to fund the move.

The course was meant to be a year, but it was the start of Choy spending over a decade away from Malaysia.

Choy thrived, especially because he enjoyed cooking French more than any other cuisine.

But his grasp of the language lagged behind, even though the program included language classes.

“I thought I went there to learn to cook, not learn a language.”

When it came time to land an internship, most kitchens turned him away because he couldn’t speak French.

He found a position at the Hilton London Gatwick Airport instead, and spent the next 11 months there.

Choy’s next move took him to Dubai and into the fine dining world. He took a significant pay cut to join Verre, also known as Gordon Ramsay at the Hilton Dubai Creek, where he stayed for two years.

“When my chef [in London] called me into his office saying he found me a job, he told me the good news and the bad news,” he said. “The good news is the restaurant is owned by a very famous chef, and it will look very good on your CV. The bad news is your salary will be 10 times less than what it is now.”

Except, Choy didn’t even know who Ramsay was at the time.

He described his time there as “hell”, from a combination of cramped living arrangements, low pay and a hostile kitchen atmosphere.

Ramsay did note in his 2007 autobiography Playing with Fire that Hilton’s salary structure caused problems in retaining staff, though his solution of supplementing their wages was limited only to his existing staff making the move from London.

Choy left for Bahrain, where he worked at a private members’ club for a year. In 2009, the global economic crisis hit, and though he survived the layoffs, the uncertainty pushed him to leave, accepting a short term position at the Swiss Pavilion at the Shanghai World Expo in 2010.

China wound up being the most important chapter of his life; he would stay in the country for the next eight years.

After the Expo, he joined Groupe Flo Asia, a Beijing-based French restaurant empire.

In five years, Choy rose from sous chef to executive chef, and from a single restaurant to overseeing 10 different brands, from fine dining to brasseries and cafes.

“I never felt I was ready, but the owners kept pushing me,” he said. “You ask me how I’m able to open so many brands now? It’s because of my time in China.”

In 2018, Choy’s wife had to have surgery. The experience led Choy to completely re-evaluate his priorities; he resigned and returned to Penang to be closer to family.

But he did leave again for one last thing. “I cooked French cuisine at Flo for nearly eight years, and I was always challenged by customers who would ask me if I’d ever been to France,” he said.

“They would say, ‘You’re not even French! How do you know this is what the dish should taste like?’”

Choy came across a programme funded by Atout France, the country’s tourism development agency, which placed applicants in Michelin-starred restaurants to be mentored by leading figures in French gastronomy for a month.

He applied and was accepted, spending the month at Guy Savoy’s eponymous three-Michelin-starred restaurant in Paris.

Choy with chef Guy Savoy during his time in Paris under the Atout France ‘Chef Residencies’ programme. — Picture courtesy of Andy Choy

Choy’s French had improved by leaps and bounds by then, and he enjoyed the experience so much he wound up staying in the country a while longer.

While there he interviewed and was offered a job at one of Yannick Alléno’s restaurants in Paris.

“I told my wife, and her response was, ‘Why did you leave Beijing?’” he said. “She reminded me of why I left China. I was going to be away again for I don’t know how many years.”

He passed on it and returned home to Penang.

Coming home meant starting over as an unknown. After testing out private dining from his house in Penang, and later consulting for the opening of Australian restaurant brand Calia in Kuala Lumpur, he finally announced himself in KL with the opening of Chateau Dionne in 2020.

It was a partnership with David Lim, the owner of Chateau Dionne Shanghai, with Choy at the stoves cooking refined French cuisine.

The restaurant opened in the middle of the pandemic; canelés, originally meant as a small gift to diners, ended up sustaining the business as a delivery item when dine-in wasn’t an option.

In 2024, he branched out with Nice Bistronome in Section 17, echoing his experience in China of opening a casual offshoot to attract diners amid decreased spending in fine dining.

Choy believes fine dining can be kept at an accessible price range by having multiple income streams and operational support from the other restaurant brands in his group’s portfolio. — Picture by Choo Choy May

Choy left Chateau Dionne in September last year. “Throughout the whole year leading up to it, I realised that no matter what I do, I can’t revive fine dining.

“It’s just something that will never happen on its own,” he said. “I choose to build the team in a different way.

“I want all of these restaurants so my team can develop, and we build back up to a fine dining restaurant at the very end.”

Rather than a single flagship restaurant at the top that trickles down, Choy went for a bottom-up approach.

“Everyone knows fine dining burns money, even if you have a big backer,” he said. “I want to have something like a pyramid.

“You have the base, the middle layer, and then the bit at the very top. You need to have all these other restaurants in the other layers to support the uncertainty of a fine dining restaurant at the top.”

The layers aren’t just financial cover either; they’re mostly operational ones too. “For example, the bread will surely come from Fleur.

“I won’t need to hire another pastry chef,” he said. “We also cycle the team through the different brands so everyone is trained in everything.”

That flagship now has a name. “It’ll have my name, and it’ll be like my house. We’re calling it Villa A.C.,” he said.

“It’s going to be in Chow Kit, a refurbished two-storey house on Lorong Tiong Nam. The food will be French, with Penang roots.”

“What we’ll do differently is focus on storytelling about my journey, through the food, and showcase good food, techniques and flavour at an affordable price,” he said.

“We’re targeting around RM300 to RM400 per person.” That’s only possible, he explained, because the restaurant won’t have to pay for itself.

“We want to change the perception of fine dining. As we have this foundation to support it, as long as the fine dining restaurant doesn’t lose money, we can keep it accessible. Most fine dining restaurants have to charge because there’s no other income stream.”

After that, though, Choy says he’ll put a pause on further expansion.

“The plan wasn’t to build an empire,” he said. “It just happened. But I will stop after Villa A.C. I will need to focus my attention there, rather than continuing to look to open more. It’s my house. I need to be there to welcome people into my home.”

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

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

KUALA LUMPUR, Aug 22 — Perhaps the best way to find new spots for food is simply strolling around the back lanes of an old neighbourhood and pay attention to where the local residents have their breakfast.

For more often than not, the places that open the earliest cater mainly to folks who live in the area, the ones who wake not long after dawn (and in many instances, even before that).

From char kway teow to bak kut teh, everything is on the table. There is no dish too unusual for the first meal of the day.

Which is why, though far from our usual custom, this weekend we are starting the day right with seafood noodles for breakfast.

Specifically we are at Yean Seafood Noodles Cuisine in Taman Cheras (more commonly known as Yulek).

Yean Seafood Noodles Cuisine in Yulek, Cheras. — Picture by CK Lim

An intermediate shoplot on the ground floor of an old block of flats, this is the sort of place a casual visitor might miss; an oversight gatekeeping locals might prefer to keep that way.

It’s certainly striking after a fashion, with its brilliant green signage and awning. That, admittedly, was what first caught our attention; only later, after perusing the posters on the glass windows, did we ascertain their main menu offerings.

But first things first.

No breakfast is complete without — or, in our case, never starts before — some serious caffeine intake. A cup of kopi hits the spot as expected, strong and bitter. 

‘Hokasai’ and ‘kopi’. — Picture by CK Lim

Less typical is the choice of hokasai but given the hot weather, something iced and rich and sweeter than I’d normally go for works magnificently to simultaneously cool me down and perk me up.

They say fight fire with fire, so maybe that’s why, despite the rising temperatures, we both order soup noodles rather than the arguably easier to eat dry, sauced versions.

I choose something simple, almost minimalist: Yean Seafood’s classic fish paste noodles. Clear broth, hot enough to fog my glasses. 

The noodles are soft rather than chewy but this is how I like it when I want a comforting meal. The pale morsels of fish paste are coarsely shaped by hand, with that slightly springy texture that tells us no machinery was involved.

Fish paste noodles. — Picture by CK Lim

A scattering of spring onion, a whisper of white pepper, and that’s basically it. Nothing more is necessary.

I like the way the fish paste absorbs the warmth of the broth. As I bite through the tender noodles, I encounter that gentle resistance, that hand-worked bounciness of the fish paste, followed by its mild, almost milky flavour.

For something tangier, try their tomato noodles. Guaranteed to wake one up from any residual traipsing in Dreamland.

Tomato noodles. — Picture by CK Lim

Which is not to say that the acidity is off the charts. Far from it. I find the flavours bright rather than tart. Every slurp of the noodles and soup just opens our eyes wider and wider... in a good way.

Our tomato noodles come with a side of fried sung fish slices. Also known as Asian carp or ikan tongsan in Malay, this meaty fish is perfect for deep-frying (which also masks any earthy flavours) and dunked into a milky broth.

Fried ‘sung’ fish slices. — Picture by CK Lim

Protein chasing gym bros will relish much flesh they get with every bite. Me, I just love deep-fried meat — I mean, who doesn’t?

We eat our noodles in near silence, barely exchanging words. Leaning over our bowls, we relish the last mouthfuls of the sweet broths, one clear and one creamy.

There is nothing grand about this meal, no. But that is rather the point.

Yean Seafood Noodles Cuisine 靓靓海鲜面馆

4, Jalan Cengkeh, 

Taman Cheras, KL

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

Phone: 012-288 9103

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

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

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

KUALA LUMPUR. Aug 21 — The story begins in Penang. 

A year ago, Teow Kee Beef Noodles opened in Victoria Street with beef noodles as their headline act. 

It’s tough in Penang, as almost every corner has a heritage dish backed by years of history and experience. 

Perhaps the only way to pull diners is to create a never-before-seen dish: a mash-up of Teochew-Japanese bowl of beef noodles. 

Fast forward to the present: their success has led to a menu expansion and even a move across the road but what they lament in posters depicting Bibendum — in the most adorable way — is that Michelin’s inspectors have not visited them yet.

Tongue-in-cheek posters feature Bibendum lamenting the lack of attention from the Michelin guide for their beef noodles. — Pictures by Lee Khang Yi

Now, they’re aiming for the big city lights (and perhaps pitching for the Michelin guide for Kuala Lumpur) with this new outpost.

It’s not in suburbia but right in the middle of the busy city, sharing a space with Emily’s Steakhouse and Rossi Italian, which also have outlets in Penang too.

You know this isn’t any ordinary bowl; parking around here is usually RM10 in private lots unless you score their limited parking spaces or hail a ride. 

Indeed, a bowl with five toppings (beef slice, beef brisket, minced meat, extra large beef ball and ramen egg) is RM25 and the eight-topping version (beef slice, beef brisket, minced meat, extra large beef ball, ramen egg, beef tendon, tripe and white radish) will set you back RM35. 

The dry beef noodles have the strands coated in a thick, brown sauce. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Since they serve no lard, pork or alcohol, they hope to attract the Malay crowd. This seems possible, as we spotted a group of Malay ladies dining there.

Your bowl isn’t one of those small ones found in coffee shops; it’s a hulking serving filled with broth and toppings. 

Let’s play the “spot the origins” game for each element. 

Yes, the Japanese influence is evident: that creamy, opaque broth dotted with oil is very tonkatsu-like but it uses beef bones and marrow continuously on a rolling boil for a long, long, long time. 

And there’s a jammy centre ajitama egg, the hallmark of a bowl of ramen. 

Don’t expect your usual ‘kuey teow’ here as they use ramen noodles. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Cue also the noodles with a slight chewiness in your bowl. 

The dry version has a semi-thick brown sauce clinging to the noodles, reminiscent of the Hainanese style of dry beef noodles but with fewer spices. 

As we poke around the bowl, there’s a beef ball that looks like it could have Teochew origins. One bite and the chewier center confirms our theory. 

Minced meat had us scratching our heads. Is this like the Hakka beef noodles found on KL streets? Perhaps.  

The toppings — sliced beef, beef brisket, tendons, tripe, beef ball and radish — are the typical companions in a bowl of beef noodles. The difference here is the quality of ingredients used.

There are Angus beef slices, not the transparent thin ones and the stewed beef brisket came in chunks with fat clinging to it. 

Dine in comfort in this modern coffee shop setting. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

That fat, of course, makes the brisket more succulent but just don’t tell mama.

Lo and behold their tendons will have you bowing at their feet as they’re slippery-slick like Jho Low escaping from the authorities. 

These tendons could probably win the title for best beef tendons, if the Michelin guide had such a category. 

Even the white radish melts in the mouth. 

Next come the toppings and sauces, reminiscent of China’s self-service counter where you can add copious coriander, spring onions, fried garlic to enhance your bowl. 

Enhance your beef noodles with their chili oil (left) cooked in beef fat. Refresh the palate with the pickled radish (right). — Pictures by Lee Khang Yi

You can also fire up your tongue with the chili oil cooked in beef fat. 

That fiery red oil isn’t spicy but adds flavour to the dry beef noodles, which seem a little lacking. 

There’s also pickled radish to cool the tongue after your chili oil episode. 

All in all, it’s a big bowl of beef noodles that hits the spot especially for supper after drinks around the area when you want something to soothe your stomach after all that alcohol. 

Beef noodles is the only item served here currently, but the owners hope to offer a larger menu — including curry beef tendon rice, chicken steak scallion noodles and chicken jjajang noodles — once things settle down. 

Find the restaurant above Emily’s Steakhouse and Rossi Italian, along Jalan Inai. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Teow Kee Beef Noodle

Second Floor, 10, Jalan Inai, 

Bukit Bintang, Kuala Lumpur.

Open daily: 5.30pm to 12am

Tel:013-2653989

Instagram: @teowkeekongsi

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

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

KUALA LUMPUR, Aug 20 — Before Sharon De Souza became the cook behind Kuala Lumpur’s reservation-only Nyonya Supper Club, she had another career entirely: banking.

She came to cooking later in life, prompted by a desire to preserve the recipes she had grown up eating and to pass them on to another generation.

Those recipes — handed down by her mother and grandmother and rooted in her family history in Melaka — will form the centre of a week-long Malaysia Day collaboration at Park Hyatt Kuala Lumpur next month.

A Baba Nyonya Story: Recipes of a Living Heritage will run at the hotel’s Park Lounge from September 14 to 20, bringing De Souza’s home cooking into a very different setting while retaining some of the practices she uses at her supper club.

Born in Melaka and of Kristang and Baba Nyonya heritage, De Souza continues to grind rempah by hand and source specific ingredients required for recipes inherited through her family.

For the Park Hyatt menu, she has selected dishes that reflect that culinary inheritance and Baba Nyonya cooking more broadly.

Daging Tulang Rusuk Kapitan, featuring slow-braised beef short rib cooked with ground spices, coconut cream and lime. — Picture courtesy of Park Hyatt Kuala Lumpur

Among them is nasi ulam, made with finely sliced aromatic herbs, toasted coconut, dried shrimp, salted fish and sambal belacan.

Daging Tulang Rusuk Kapitan takes a richer turn, with beef short rib slow-braised with ground spices, coconut cream and lime.

Nyonya laksa will be served with rock lobster and vermicelli in a coconut curry broth, accompanied by quail egg, laksa leaves and calamansi.

Nasi Ulam brings together finely sliced aromatic herbs, toasted coconut, dried shrimp, salted fish and ‘sambal belacan’. — Picture courtesy of Park Hyatt Kuala Lumpur

There is also Kuah Lada, a dish the hotel describes as traditionally eaten in Nyonya homes. De Souza’s version features golden snapper simmered with tamarind, turmeric and black peppercorns, with Chinese doughnuts served alongside to soak up the gravy.

The collaboration arrives as Malaysia marks Malaysia Day, giving its focus on inherited recipes an added resonance.

Nyonya Laksa is served with rock lobster and vermicelli in a coconut curry broth, with quail egg, ‘laksa’ leaves and calamansi. — Picture courtesy of Park Hyatt Kuala Lumpur

Rather than treating Baba Nyonya food simply as something preserved from the past, the project places emphasis on recipes that remain in use: cooked, shared and handed from one generation to another.

That idea has also shaped De Souza’s own approach. Her supper-club dinners remain closely tied to the traditions with which she grew up, and the dishes she cooks carry both family memories and the methods through which those recipes have survived.

At Park Lounge, they will briefly move from the intimate setting of her supper club to a hotel dining room, but the recipes remain closely tied to De Souza’s family history and the traditions in which she grew up.

* A Baba Nyonya Story: Recipes of a Living Heritage will be served at Park Lounge, Park Hyatt Kuala Lumpur, from September 14 to 20.

KUALA LUMPUR, Aug 20 — As a country, Malaysia is what you would call a “dry culture”. 

It has nothing to do with rainfall or water supply, but everything to do with alcohol. 

In a wet culture, drinking is routine, woven into daily meals — a pint at a pub lunch in the UK, a glass of wine with dinner in France. 

In a dry one, it gets pushed to the edges: weekend parties, big celebrations, the after-work beer, the occasional brandy binge at a wedding.

Wine has come a long way here since the days of Jacob’s Creek and Wolf Blass. Restaurants now carry proper wine lists, some with dedicated sommeliers, and there are even specialty wine bars — a few push some truly tawdry natural wine, however. 

But outside that, and beyond avid wine geek circles, pairing wine with Malaysian food remains largely unexplored.

A fair number of guides exist online — some local, some from countries with Malaysian diaspora — recommending wines to pair with Malaysian food. 

Our flavours are usually presented as the biggest obstacle to pairing: words like bold, vibrant and complex get thrown around, but in the end, they somehow always land on a perfect wine for each dish. 

Some variations of nasi lemak, beef rendang or laksa gets paired with a Riesling, Syrah or Chardonnay, but none address the real challenge of pairing wine with food in Malaysia: practicality.

Establishments serving nasi lemak, beef rendang or laksa typically aren’t BYO — Malaysia isn’t a dry culture by accident — and the alternative is tapau-ing said dishes home and cracking open a bottle at 10 in the morning. Not ideal. 

Where you’re far more likely to encounter wine alongside these hawker classics is a house party, a potluck, some kind of catered spread. 

In those settings, versatility is king. 

Rather than a wine for each dish, you need a wine for almost every dish.

If I had to name one safest all-round pick, it’s non-vintage brut rosé Champagne. 

Seriously undervalued in Malaysia, it’s tailor-made for our climate: refreshing enough for the heat, substantial enough to drink with food, and remarkably compatible with the flavours we eat. 

Day or night, there’s a strong case that we should all be drinking more of it.

High acidity and fine bubbles cut through richness and fried food, while its light red-fruit character works naturally with spice, sambal, sweet sauces and smoky flavours. 

Char kuey teow is the dream match: acidity and bubbles cut through the grease of the noodles, while the wine’s fruit complements the dish’s caramelised, savoury flavours and smoky wok hei. 

Vintry is one of the first wine bars in Malaysia to focus on featuring an extensive wine collection alongside local food, including its signature Hokkien mee. — Pictures courtesy of Tinkermen Collective

The same principle applies to ayam goreng berempah, nasi lemak and satay — acidity and bubbles against the richness and fat, fruit balancing the sweet, spicy and smoky notes in each.

Outside of house parties, bars and restaurants serving alcohol alongside local food have been around for a while — older pubs have done it for years, usually over a beer. 

The Vintry Group of wine bars and restaurants has spent two decades introducing Malaysians to pairing wine with local food, helmed throughout by Master of Wine (MW) Candidate Wong Yin-How. 

His curated collection spans rare vintages to unique varietals, all meant to be enjoyed alongside favourites like fried Hokkien mee and roast pork.

He likes to pair a Barolo, made from Nebbiolo grapes and often known as “the king of Italian wines,” with the classic fried noodle dish — one that shows, in his words, “purity of red and dark plums and liquorice and acidic thrust, to cut through the soy and wok-singed richness of this noodle dish.” 

Roast pork gets paired with Champagne — specifically a Chardonnay-reliant cuvée. 

“The crisp, piercing acidity of a cool climate expression of this grape, plus chalky autolytic notes, allows it to balance the rich umami in the salty pork,” he says.

He has answers for some less obvious dishes too: an off-dry Riesling for luncheon meat fries — a classic Malaysian pub snack — its piercing acidity and tropical fruit playing counterpoint to the salted meat; and a cool-climate Malbec for clay pot loh shi fun, dark-fruited and high-toned enough to match the dish’s sweet, salty edge.

Not everyone has Vintry’s cellar to draw from, though, which raises the more useful question of how to choose and serve wine with Malaysian food without one. 

For Reuben Suresh Arthur, senior lecturer at Taylor’s Culinary Institute and a WSET UK-certified wine trainer, budget is the first wall most people hit.

Taxes, import costs and regulations have made wine “a middle, or more likely upper-middle-class beverage” here — the cheapest bottle at a local supermarket runs about RM50, before restaurant markups and corkage fees that can climb to RM50 to RM100 a bottle push it further still. 

His advice is to stop chasing prestige. 

Rather than reaching for something with a brand name, he points people towards “simple, fruit-driven, low-tannin, off-dry” bottles — wines he says often pair better with Malaysian food’s higher sugar content than anything more “prestigious” would. 

“Wine, at its core, is simply fermented grape juice,” he says. 

“But in many Asian countries, we’ve elevated it into something to show off, to establish status in a social group. So bringing a simple wine to dinner may be considered unacceptable — even if the pairing is perfect.”

In his view, the tendency to treat wine as a symbol before a beverage is exactly what the industry needs to unlearn. 

“Education, education, education,” he says, is what it’ll take to prepare the next generation of wine professionals. 

Sommeliers can be snobbish, he adds, often fixating on “prestigious” wines that don’t always work with local cuisine. 

He’d rather see more exposure to supermarket bottles, fortified wines and indigenous local drinks built into training, and importers doing more pairings with local food instead of defaulting to the usual script. 

“Almost all the wine dinners I’ve attended,” he says, “have paired their wines with Western cuisine.” 

The answer, then, isn’t to make Malaysian food more “wine-friendly”. It’s to find wines that fit the way we actually eat and drink, which means accepting that the right wines for Malaysian food might not be the most prestigious bottles in the cellar, but are the best wine for the dishes. 

Deciding that is something Malaysians are far better placed to do than anyone writing about us from anywhere else.

* Follow Ethan Lau on Instagram @eatenlau for more unfiltered takes on food and wine.

SUBANG JAYA, Aug 19 — Fried chicken shops rule the roost at every corner of this city as chicken is the preferred protein for many. 

Who can blame the diners? It’s comfort food at its best — crunch paired with juicy pull-apart meat — that feeds the whole nation regardless of wallet size.  

So what happens when fried chicken gets a Hat Yai glow-up? 

There’s a lighter batter and a spice marinade that makes it the star performer in Bangkok’s Haroy which is open right smack in Subang Jaya SS15’s college-land, where F&B concepts open and shut like a yo-yo in a bitcoin market.

It’s definitely not your usual fried chicken as it goes beyond golden, crunchy skin but wait... where are the fries, mashed potatoes or coleslaw?

A wrap using sticky rice, cubed fried chicken, drizzled with the sauce of your choice (like Thai basil flavour), and covered with fried shallots is exceptionally good. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Keep calm and chill; Thais eat their beloved Hat Yai fried chicken with sticky rice (khao niao), dunked in chili sauce and coated with fried shallots. 

It’s an explosion of juicy meat and a sweet, spicy chili sauce that adds a level of zing, coupled with soft sticky rice and the crunch from fried shallots.

That new taste experience will definitely lure those jaded with just fried chicken. 

If you do insist on French fries, don’t fret; they are on the menu but are an “add on” — edged out by the alluring sticky rice. 

Combo sets with Hat Yai fried chicken or French fries can be ordered with the wrap, which comes in two sizes. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

For those who avoid sticky rice due to digestion issues, steamed jasmine rice (khao suay) or biryani rice (khao mok) are also available for an additional RM1. 

A one-piece chicken combo is RM16.90 while the 2-piece chicken combo is RM21.90. Both combos include fried shallots, a choice of sticky rice or steamed jasmine rice, Haroy sauce (original or spicy) and a drink (soda or mineral water).

Thai Milk Tea (cha chak) can be added on for RM4.50; it also cools down your tongue if you were too enthusiastic about the chili sauce. 

Their wraps, which come with four different sauces, are exceptional. 

Haroy’s version uses flattened sticky rice, not conventional flatbread, filled with chunks of chicken and slathered with your choice of sauce (original Haroy sauce, nam tok for a zesty flavour, nam prik num with green chilies, and pad kra pao (Thai basil). 

And just before wrapping the sticky rice roll, a handful of fried shallots is added for more flavour. 

Som Tam is the refreshing, spicy side kick to the Hat Yat fried chicken that you mix yourself. — Pictures by Lee Khang Yi

You can pair the wraps with fried chicken or French fries in their combo sets, which come in two sizes: small and medium. 

The small fried chicken combo is RM22.90, and the medium fried chicken combo is RM24.50.

Som Tam (RM5.90) is their side-kick for the fried chicken, offering the refreshing crunch of shredded green papaya mixed with cherry tomatoes, peanuts and the som tam sauce that provides a gentler heat. 

The set-up is like a fast-food outlet where you order and they call you to collect the food once it’s ready. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

While the set-up is casual fast food, the prices aren’t very pocket-friendly — making it a hurdle that may be difficult to overcome once curiosity wears off. 

On ground, there’s top-notch service once you get your food, as there are people to assist you in understanding how to eat the fried chicken the proper Thai way. 

This isn’t the first time Hat Yai fried chicken has appeared here; a local brand, Ayee Southern Fried Thai Chicken (STFC), whose founder is from Padang Besar, started the chicken trail with outlets in Penang, Central I-City, Citta Mall and most recently in PJ’s Starling Mall. 

555 Thainanese Chicken, a popular chicken rice place in Sri Hartamas, also offers Hat Yai fried chicken alongside their poached Hainanese chicken which is served with fragrant rice.

The corner shop is located in Subang Jaya’s SS15, which is well known for its many food brands that come and go. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Haroy

72, Jalan SS15/4b, 

SS15, Subang Jaya.

Open daily: 10am to 10pm. 

Instagram: @haroy.my

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

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

SEMENYIH, Aug 18 — This could be any bowl of chilli pan mee.

There is the ubiquitous fire-red mound of spicy chilli crisps, perched next to the crunchy fried ikan bilis. Squares of flat noodles.

Sliced green onions, some sprinkled recklessly atop the glorious onsen egg, its orange yolk threatening to spill its hoard.

A quintet of handmade pork paste, coarsely shaped orbs arranged in a tidy curve. A smaller bowl of light, natural tasting broth on the side.

It’s the soup that offers the biggest clue to what makes this unique. When most renditions of chilli pan mee scream “more is more”, Loumazi Noodle’s signature chilli pan mee dares to go easy on the seasoning.

The shop, located in Semenyih, is spacious and brightly lit. When I chatted with the owner later when paying my bill, he told me that they are in their soft launch period.

The shop is spacious and brightly lit. — Picture by CK Lim

The owner, Mr Lim, tells me the original shop is in Lukut, Port Dickson. They started it as a family business in 2021, during the Covid-19 pandemic.

Perhaps like attracts like; it makes sense a family-run eatery would appeal to families too.

Even so, I’m impressed how the place is already popular with their target clientele; Malaysians always seem to know when there is a new eatery in the neighbourhood.

While noodles might be the main draw here, Loumazi does serve the usual kopitiam beverages and toast. Consider these the requisite “appetisers” before the “main dishes”.

(Though we hardly follow any Western notions of dining and order of course, do we? Nothing is better than everything arriving at the same time and us starting with whichever item we desire first.)

Loumazi offers ‘cham C’, which is lighter and less sweet, instead of regular ‘cham’. — Picture by CK Lim

Interestingly, Loumazi offers cham C, which is lighter and less sweet, instead of regular cham. Of course, the only real difference between the two is the type of milk used.

Our usual order of “regular” cham uses sweet condensed milk; cham C is made with unsweetened evaporated milk, plus a smidgen of sugar.

That last step is especially true here as our coffee-and-tea blend is barely sweet, which might offend those with a sweet tooth but elicit nods of approval from others.

We belong to the latter category; too often have we asked for kurang manis only to be presented with a brew that is still sickly sweet. To have something blander is a relief.

To go with our cham C, we must have some kopitiam bread. (Most kopitiams offer both roti bakar and roti stim but we seem to eschew the steamed variety in favour of the toast every time. Maybe next round?)

Rustic looking round ‘roti’ with butter. — Picture by CK Lim

At Loumazi, the staff recommends their round roti with butter. Sliced into half domes, these are rustic looking reminders that we don’t always have to have rectangular-shaped soldiers to dunk into our coffee or half-boiled eggs.

To be safe, we still ordered the classic butter and kaya toast. Honestly both versions were toasted to a satisfying crisp, its crunch closer to a roti kok than many feeble, near “wilted” franchise kopitiam toasts.

Every bite more nostalgic than the shop’s brand new surroundings might suggest. A lovely surprise, this.

Classic butter and ‘kaya’ toast. — Picture by CK Lim

Loumazi’s menu isn’t entirely old school, however. One dish that stands out, and probably attracted not a few curious passers-by, is their LMZ Soup Special.

Picture this: A jammy egg, in the style of ajitama, the Japanese marinated soft-boiled egg, sliced neatly into half to reveal the molten yolk. Square-cut braised pork belly, spread in a neat fan.

This bowl has a touch of Japanese ramen to it, and perhaps intentionally so. Yet it remains fully Malaysian with the thin, crispy wafers of foo chuk and a trio of fish ball, fish cake, and pork paste.

The LMZ Soup Special has a touch of Japanese ‘ramen’ to it. — Picture by CK Lim

It is the latter that binds most of the noodle dishes here; the same balls of handmade pork paste is a key feature of the aforementioned chilli pan mee.

Just like the naturally sweet broth, these meat balls are lightly flavoured; not the intensely salty versions you might be used to elsewhere.

So it might take some getting used to: both the subtly seasoned soup and proteins. Which, quite honestly, might explain why so many customers are families.

Parents with small children and elders will appreciate a more restrained hand with the salt.

Balls of handmade pork paste. — Picture by CK Lim

Sure, the wannabe gourmand might decide this style counts as “delicate tasting” but all it is is simple and humble home cooking (or the closest one can come to this in a commercial eatery).

No frills and fuss free, the way everyday family dining ought to be.

Loumazi Noodle 姥妈子面馆

48-1, Jalan Eco Majestic 10/1F, 

Semenyih, Selangor.

Open daily 9am-9pm

Phone: 010-366 6393

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

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

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

PETALING JAYA, Aug 17 — Each time I think of grilled fish, I am reminded of my all-time favourite Hing Ket Grill House in Klang which serves a simple grilled stingray dusted with turmeric powder and phenomenal sweet local crabs burnished by the hot coals. 

Since Hing Ket Grill House is too far, making it an occasional dining spot, this place in Seri Setia, popularly known by its old name Sungai Way, satisfies my cravings for grilled fish. 

FishBar 88, which opened in January this year, caught my eye after I spotted the tempting photos on my friend’s Facebook page. 

Dry roasted fish cooked over a charcoal fire isn't usually offered and this one uses golden pomfret with a turmeric powder marinade.

The couple who run this place — which operates out of a coffeeshop at night — also has a Thai mookata business. 

Since operations for that business is stable and their staff well-trained, they decided to start this new venture. 

Stingray is often the default choice because the fleshier fish pulls apart easily in long strips, eliminating the need to deal with pesky, fine bones.

The fish, placed on a banana leaf and cooked over a hot griddle, absorbs the smokiness from the charred leaf while the flesh cooks until it is no longer opaque and develops a silky texture. 

On top, a heap of sambal mixed with sliced lady’s fingers provides a spicy, fragrant flavour with a touch of zinginess from calamansi lime juice. 

Grilled 'sotong' tests the master griller's skills and this one passed with flying colours, yielding a bouncy yet tender texture.

Thin sliced raw onions is an ingenious touch, providing a crunch plus a respite from all the heat and richness. 

It’s also my first time seeing this ingredient used in grilled fish too. 

The stingray (RM11 for 100 grams, this piece was RM35) is substantial enough to feed two with a plate of rice and another choice of seafood.

What makes this stall different from the usual supper-style grilled fish is the option of a dry-roasted style using charcoal fire, just like Hing Ket Grill House. 

Using the firmer version of golden pomfret (bawal emas), the stall butterflied the fish and covered it with turmeric powder. 

It’s placed in a grill basket and cooked over white hot coals. 

The turmeric forms a thin crust on top, letting the flesh under the skin retain its moisture and remain juicy. 

The killer spicy 'sambal' (left) will leave you with a fiery aftertaste, but you can't stop eating it. The stall (right) is the only one operating at night in the coffeeshop found along the main road in Seri Setia.

Extracting the flesh is easy because one side is exposed without the main bone and you access the flesh on the other side’s flesh by cracking the bone to remove it. 

A killer spicy green sambal adds more flavour; it starts mild but slowly hits the back of your tongue with lingering heat. 

The same heap of sliced raw onions provides a cooling contrast, especially when the tongue is burning from the sambal. 

As this fish was much bigger, it costs RM55 for the whole fish (RM11 for 100 grams). 

Ordering sotong tests the master griller’s skills as it can easily become a chewy, rubbery nightmare. 

We were in luck; the sotong cut into rings passed the test and yielded a tender, snappy bite.

A banner on the side of the coffee shop is the only landmark for this stall in Seri Setia.

It peeks out from a mass of spicy, thick sambal dotted with chopped vegetables like long beans, lady’s fingers and four-angled beans. 

The stir-frying gives it a deeper red colour, transforming it into a fragrant accompaniment for rice, along with various vegetables.

Other menu items like seafood porridge were unavailable due to a lack of clams but the fish and sotong were enough to make us happy for dinner. 

The stall is inside a restaurant right next to the main thoroughfare in Seri Setia, so spotting it may be difficult. Using Waze to navigate there is best. 

A Western restaurant is also located right next to the grilled fish place that comes alive at night for dinner and suppertime. 

FishBar 88 烤鱼吧

96, Jalan SS9A/1, 

SS 9A, Seri Setia (Sungai Way), Petaling Jaya.

Open: 5pm to 11pm. Closed on Tuesdays.

Tel: 010-5666503 

Facebook: @fishbar88

Instagram: @fishbar88

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

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

KUALA LUMPUR, Aug 16 — The phrase “ugly delicious” gets thrown around a lot to describe dishes from our part of the world. 

It’s meant as a self-aware compliment: this won’t look good on Instagram, but it’s tasty. It’s real. Authentic.

And yet, it’s never sat right with me. Why are some dishes — sometimes entire cuisines — deemed “ugly,” and others not? 

More pressingly: why do “our” dishes make up so much of that first category?

Any wannabe food stylist can turn a charcuterie board or a pasta tray bake into a boring Pinterest tablescape. 

But a well-loaded plate of nasi kandar from Deen Maju, splashed with colour and kuah, looks to me like a Jackson Pollock piece; a glistening, jet-black plate of Hokkien mee at Mun Wah could rival the best of Pierre Soulages. No styling necessary. 

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, I suppose. 

But why we’re so quick to call our food “ugly” in the first place is a conversation for another day. 

What I can do today is point to a cuisine that seems to have been granted an exemption: Japanese. 

Tsukishima Monja Koboreya is located in the restaurant street on the ground floor of LaLaport BBCC. — Picture by Ethan Lau

With the exception of natto — it’s the smell and stickiness that get you, not the look — sashimi, sushi, ramen are all apparently good for the ’gram.

And then there’s monjayaki. If okonomiyaki is Japan’s idea of savoury pancakes, monjayaki is what happens when you abandon the idea of a pancake altogether. 

The batter is loose — closer to a thin, starchy gruel than anything resembling pancake mix — poured onto the teppan with cabbage and whatever else you fancy, then left to sizzle and spread into a shapeless, bubbling mass. 

There’s no clean flip, no golden crust. You scrape at it with a small metal spatula as it cooks, coaxing it into a crispy-edged, gloopy heap that looks — there’s no kinder way to put it — like cabbage slop. 

‘Monjayaki’ when it arrives at the table (left). ‘Monjayaki’ once the ingredients are mixed up and cooked on the ‘teppan’ (right). — Picture by Ethan Lau

Tokyo’s Tsukishima area has an entire street dedicated to it, and it has now landed in KL. 

Koboreya, the monjayaki specialist with seven outlets across Tokyo, recently opened its first Malaysian branch at LaLaport BBCC in Bukit Bintang. 

The signature Mentaiko Mochi Monja (RM35) arrives as a neat bowl of cabbage, dashi batter, and its namesake toppings — mochi cubes and mentaiko, pollock roe. 

A server does the work first: separating the toppings, including a block of butter, then oiling the teppan, then pouring the cabbage and dashi mixture over it in a thin rectangle. 

Halfway through, it looks less like food than a spill: a grey, sloppy puddle threatening to run off the edge of the griddle. 

‘Monjayaki’ is eaten with small metal spatulas, which can be used to scoop up the gooey mixture (as pictured here) or press the mixture onto the griddle to caramelise further. — Picture by Ethan Lau

The liquid reduces as the cabbage cooks and caramelises; only then does the mentaiko get chopped up and folded back in with the mochi and butter. 

From there, it’s up to you and the small metal spatula — a gooey scoop, or a firm press to really brown and crisp things up. 

The mochi responds particularly well to the latter, taking on a toasty edge; the bites are fishy and savoury overall, rich with umami.

I enjoyed the Koboreya Seafood Monja (RM40) slightly more. Shrimp, squid, asari clams, scallops, oysters and conger eel are cooked along the cabbage and dashi mixture, giving it a much sweeter, richer seafood flavour that doesn’t have any of the fishiness of mentaiko.

Like most ‘monjayaki’ speciality restaurants in Tokyo, Koboreya also offers ‘okonomiyaki’. — Picture by Ethan Lau

One thing to note: monjayaki isn’t terribly filling. Even shared straight off the griddle, cabbage, stock, and a handful of toppings don’t add up to much of a meal, so don’t be surprised if two orders aren’t enough. 

Like most monjayaki specialists, Koboreya also serves okonomiyaki, so my friend and I decided to try the more familiar, starchier version instead.

After enjoying the seafood monjayaki, I moved on to the Seafood Deluxe Okonomiyaki (RM30), and on my friend’s recommendation, gave the Green Onion & Cheese Okonomiyaki (RM30) a try too. 

Both are made Osaka-style — all ingredients mixed into the batter, no noodles — and finished with a generous amount of okonomi sauce and mayonnaise.

The seafood variant was enjoyable enough, with a healthy dose of shaved bonito on top, but the green onion and cheese combination was revelatory. 

I was sceptical about the amount of cheese that went on — a small saucepan’s worth — but the sweet crunch of the Japanese leek inside complemented it well. 

The best part was watching the okonomi sauce fuse with the melted cheese and caramelise into a sweet, crispy patch on the griddle. 

‘Okonomiyaki’ may be slightly more put together, but they are no less messy on the griddle than ‘monjayaki’. — Picture by Ethan Lau

On its own, the sauce splits as it cooks, leaving you with a mouthful of oil and slightly bitter brown solids; the cheese keeps it bound instead, so the sugars caramelise rather than burn. A perfect match.

Monjayaki, in other words, is Japan’s own “ugly delicious.” But in a country so ready to fawn over all things Japanese — omakase, matcha, shio pan — it remains to be seen whether monjayaki will ever be recognised for what it is: a grey, sloppy puddle on the griddle, coaxed into a gooey, umami-rich heap with a spatula and a bit of patience. 

I suspect it won’t, even though it objectively should be. Says something about the label, doesn’t it?

Tsukishima Monja Koboreya Kuala Lumpur

G-83, LaLaport BBCC, 

Mitsui Shopping Park, 

2, Jalan Hang Tuah, 

Bukit Bintang, Kuala Lumpur.

Open Tuesday to Sunday, 12-11pm

Tel: 017-295 9314

Instagram: @koboreya_my

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

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

* Follow Ethan Lau on Instagram @eatenlau for more 

KUALA LUMPUR, Aug 15 — Feels like it was only yesterday when it was raining cats and dogs, no? And now we alternate between slathering on sunblock and taking multiple showers a day.

It’s hot, is what I’m saying.

Which makes for a perfect weekend to stay in and not head out. But even with the air-conditioning on, it still feels a tad too warm to bear. We need something more.

An iced coffee might help, be it a cold brew or a shot of espresso with chilled milk. Better yet, a frozen tub of ice-cream.

Half a honeydew melon.

I check and there’s none in the freezer. What I do have is half a honeydew melon and a viral food hack I have been seeing online lately.

Basically it calls for freezing some fruit and then pouring some heavy cream into the a hollowed-out cavity in its centre. Stir and scrape. Repeat until we can scoop out... ice-cream?

Refreshing and light, this is honestly closer to a sherbet than a true ice-cream given how the fruit is mostly water and only a small amount of dairy is used.

Frozen melon.

Still, this is simple enough to make — there are only two ingredients! — and barely any clean-up since you can mix and serve directly from the melon shell.

There might be no better way to stay cool when it’s hot outside, don’t you agree?

No churn honeydew ice-cream

If you’ve seen the same viral no churn ice-cream videos on social media, you’d notice that nearly all of them use watermelons. However, watermelons contain so much water that the finished dessert will turn out icier than creamy.

Instead, I reckon honeydew melons have the right balance of juiciness and a texture that, once frozen, makes for an easier scrape.

For the secret to this dessert is patience before you even begin. It’s best, I find, to freeze the honeydew melon overnight, or until it is completely solid. 

Pour the heavy cream into the hollowed centre.

You see, the firmer the fruit, the creamier the finished dessert will be once you start scraping.

Another benefit of using honeydew melons rather than watermelons is that you needn’t remember to scoop out a generous hollow in the centre of the melon before freezing. It’s standard practice to scoop out the seeds from a honeydew melon half anyway; you save an extra step!

Consider this your ready-made mixing bowl: there will be just enough space to pour in the milk or cream without any spills.

For a more indulgent result, use heavy cream. If you prefer something lighter and more refreshing, regular milk works beautifully too. Those avoiding dairy can substitute almond milk for an equally satisfying version.

This is one dessert that rewards immediacy. Serve it as soon as the mixture reaches a smooth, soft consistency, before it has a chance to melt or firm up too much.

Scrape the frozen melon flesh into the cream.

Feel free to make it your own. A drizzle of honey lends extra sweetness, while a squeeze of lime juice or a little grated zest brightens every spoonful. 

For a more tropical twist, swap part or all of the dairy for santan (coconut milk); its natural richness pairs wonderfully with the honeydew melon.

Ingredients

Half a honeydew melon

250 ml heavy cream, or as needed

Smooth and creamy.

Method

Cut the honeydew melon in half. Using a spoon, scoop out the seeds, leaving a bowl-shaped hollow in the centre of one melon half. 

Cover the cut surface with cling wrap. Place the melon half on a tray and freeze overnight, or until completely solid.

Remove the frozen melon from the freezer. Pour the heavy cream into the hollowed centre.

Using a sturdy spoon, scrape the frozen melon flesh into the cream, stirring continuously as you go. Keep scraping and mixing for about 5-10 minutes.

At first you will have icy shards of melon swimming in liquid, but don’t stop. Keep going until the icy melon gradually blends with the dairy to form a smooth, slightly soft ice-cream.

Scoop the ice-cream into serving bowls or enjoy it straight from the frozen melon. Serve immediately.

For more Weekend Kitchen stories, visit Life for Beginners.

PETALING JAYA, Aug 14 — My unceasing, all-consuming love affair with curry mee is well documented: I eat it, and write about it with the same undiminished joy.

And if the many bowls I’ve slurped down have taught me anything — some good, some great, some a crime against curry mee — it’s that good curry mee can come from anywhere.

Sometimes it’s from a place you least expect. When I visited Tian MiMi Secret in Ara Damansara earlier this year, I drove past Asia Curry Noodle Cafe on my way out.

The prospect of curry mee piqued my interest, but my reverse-snobbery bias kicked in at the shop’s decor and modern setting.

The roast pork sports paper-thin crackling and the ideal ratio of lean meat and fat.

I tend to grow suspicious when hawker food gets repackaged into a zhuzhed-up environment; it’s not fair, and I’ve had plenty of great meals in these sorts of places, but it’s a bias I’ve noticed in myself all the same — call it PappaRich syndrome, or nowadays, Oriental Kopitiam syndrome.

Curiosity won out over snobbery, as it usually does — especially once something on a bunting caught my eye.

Written in Mandarin: “coconut-shell roast pork,” next to a picture of a whole roasted pig.

I usually only get to eat off a whole roasted pig on festive occasions — Chinese New Year, weddings — never as a matter of course, and certainly never in a bowl of curry mee.

And of course, the real selling point is the coconut shells. An old-school fuel for roasting, it has become increasingly rare as gas and electric ovens have replaced charcoal-fired pits dug into the ground.

A few traditionalists still roast whole pigs this way; fewer still do it with coconut shells. I only know of one, based in Hulu Langat.

The menu is vast: roast pork, char siu, roast duck, chicken, wantan mee, even roast pork porridge made from the bones of the rest of the pig.

‘Char siu’ adds a sweet dimension to the bowl of curry.

But I came in focused, in the mood for the Rich and Hearty Curry Bamboo Mee (RM19.80) — a sizable bowl loaded with roast pork, char siu, poached chicken, pig skin, fried beancurd skin, long beans, and half a boiled egg.

To my annoyance, it arrived piping hot in a clay pot, meaning I had to wait for the fiery broth to cool.

Of all the soup-y noodles in the Malaysian repertoire, curry mee is surely the last one that needs to be served piping hot.

The broth maintains a good balance between spice and savouriness, sweetness and richness from santan — all nuances that only come through when the broth isn’t too hot.

It isn’t the most decadent bowl of curry mee, but that works in its favour.

‘Char siu’ adds a sweet dimension to the bowl of curry.

The roast pork is soft, fatty, and heavy on the salt; the char siu is tender and sweet; the poached chicken is just ordinary.

Together, all three take on different roles when swished around in the curry. The roast pork, with its paper-thin crackling, retains its glass-shattering crispiness while giving an intense bite of savouriness — a welcome tonic for the spice.

The sweet char siu has a similar effect, albeit richer. The chicken is the least impressive of the three, barely noticeable.

Is it the best bowl of curry mee I’ve had? It's up for debate. The roast pork is the star, though — that alone is worth the trip.

And it’s good enough that my scepticism at the door, decor and all, feels a little silly in hindsight.

Asia Curry Noodle Cafe

F-G-2, Jalan PJU 1A/3N,

Taipan 1, Ara Damansara,

Petaling Jaya, Selangor.

Open daily, 7am-9pm

Tel: 013-596 3193

Facebook: Asia Curry Noodle Cafe

Instagram: @asiacurrynoodlecafe

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

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

* Follow Ethan Lau on Instagram @eatenlau for more curry mee confessionals.

KUALA LUMPUR, Aug 13 — Nasi kandar hunters in the city can enjoy the trinity of Nasi Kandar Kudu, Mohd Yaseem Nasi Kandar and Nasi Kandar Ibramsha, now that the latter is reopening on September 2.

In a notice shared by Mohamed Nazar on the Facebook group Nasi Kandaq Hunters, the restaurant announced its reopening at 375, Jalan Tuanku Abdul Rahman.

Originally, the restaurant was at 68, Jalan Tuanku Abdul Rahman before it decided to shift to Taman Muda, Shah Alam in November last year.

Malay Mail spoke to Nurul Jasmin Kamal, daughter of Nasi Kandar Ibramsha’s owner, the late Kamal Nazar, who confirmed the reopening news.

Since her father’s death on May 31, the Shah Alam restaurant has remained closed, she said.

The move back to Jalan Tuanku Abdul Rahman was also because the Shah Alam location didn’t receive a good response.

This new space, formerly Nasi Kandar Citra Maju opposite the Bank Muamalat, means the new Nasi Kandar Ibramsha location on Jalan Tuanku Abdul Rahman will be much nearer to Mohd Yaseem Nasi Kandar at No. 351 and Nasi Kandar Kudu at No. 335.

MELAKA, Aug 13 — There’s nothing quite like handmade mee hoon kueh.

Growing up in Melaka, I had never encountered pan mee, its plainer and far less exciting cousin. For my family, it was always mee hoon kueh.

You had it in a soup if you felt like something comforting or if it was raining; you went for the dry version if you prefer something you didn’t have to sweat over; and you asked for the sambal or chilli paste as soon as you were old enough to handle the spice.

To satisfy my mee hoon kueh craving, we decided to drop by Siang Ge Mee Hoon Kueh.

Located in Melaka’s commercial Kota Syahbandar area, the shop is far enough from the tourist trails of Jonker Street that the tables are all occupied by locals. (Always a good sign of the food quality, no?)

Remember to order first at the counter. — Picture by CK Lim

Remember to order first at the counter. In terms of the front of house, Siang Ge is basically a one-man operation as the owner mans the cashier as well as the drinks station.

Besides the cook in the kitchen, there is another staff who brings out the food and clears the empty dishes but customers are expected to queue up to order and pay before enjoying their meals.

Which isn’t unusual except I observe how smoothly everything is run despite the appearance of being short-handed. Everyone was smiling at each other while waiting for their turn to order.

Perhaps I am too used to the impatience and ill tempers at restaurants in bigger cities; what a breath of fresh air this is!

Naturally, it helps that many customers are from the offices nearby and families from the neighbourhood. Later I observe the boss chatting with some regulars and teasing the small children.

No fuss or fancy menus, but when the lunch rush is over, some unexpected warmth. More of a human touch than chain eateries.

Iced ‘liong cha’ to cool off. — Picture by CK Lim

Given the sweltering weather, we both decided on iced liong cha to cool off. The beverage’s herbal notes seem to refresh us as much as the ice cubes. An oldie but a goldie, as they say.

We also agree to have the same dry mee hoon kueh; it’s far too hot for soup noodles. The boss asks us whether we want the original dry mee hoon kueh or the spicier sambal version. The latter, always.

(Fight fire with fire, yes? Sambal beats the sun, or so we believe.)

What is served looks fairly standard: roughly shaped morsels of pork paste, pork meatballs (more dense than bouncy), some leafy greens, fried shallots, crunchy ikan bilis and, of course, the hand-pinched squares of dough.

Ask for a poached egg to go with your mee hoon kueh. I have learned my lesson the last time I forgot to order an egg to go with my noodles; nowadays I always remind myself not to miss this absolutely essential add-on.

Ask for a poached egg to go with your ‘mee hoon kueh’. — Picture by CK Lim

Though it wasn’t apparent at first, the cook had poached the egg in the soup itself. We realise this with our spoonful of the naturally sweet broth; there were gossamer threads of egg white in the soup, which is the sort of nice surprise that can make your meal.

Details matter.

Then comes the sacred ritual of tossing the hand-torn noodles together. Or, to be more specific, separating them first.

Unlike the more plebeian pan mee, the more artisanal nature of mee hoon kueh means that quite often you’d have two pieces stuck together.

For obsessive-compulsive diners (I include myself in this venerated category), this is more boon than bane as it can be quite fun to pry pieces of mee hoon kueh apart using nothing but a pair of chopsticks and sheer dogged determination.

Mix the dark soy sauce and the fiery ‘sambal’ well. — Picture by CK Lim

It is also critical to mix the dark soy sauce and the fiery sambal well; we don’t want any rogue blobs of the chilli paste to catch us by surprise!

We are rewarded for our care and diligence with a meal that, if you’d pardon the cliché, truly hits the spot. Every bite was sheer textural pleasure: toothsome and flavourful, slick with grease and suffused with just enough heat to warrant another sip of liong cha.

No, you can’t slurp these noodles up like ramen or pan mee but therein lies its magic. You are expected to go slow: to chew and savour, to linger over each bite like it’s a gift.

Which, when I think about it, this definitely qualifies as.

There are other noodles dishes offered such as yee mee and ginger wine mee sua. But nearly everyone orders the mee hoon kueh.

Who could blame them? Siang Gee’s mee hoon kueh is exemplary, some of the best we have had in Melaka.

Siang Ge Mee Hoon Kueh in Melaka. — Picture by CK Lim

Siang Ge Mee Hoon Kueh 祥哥面粉糕

25, Jalan KPKS 3, 

Kompleks Perniagaan Kota Syahbandar, 

Melaka.

Open daily (except Wed closed) 10:30am–4:30pm

Phone: 018-959 8600

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

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

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

KUALA LUMPUR, Aug 12 — In Hong Kong and Guangzhou, Cantonese-style claypot rice or what they call bo zai fan is best eaten during wintertime to keep you warm during those chilly nights.

It’s found a home in Malaysia where we’re used to eating piping hot claypot chicken rice, straight from the burning coals, no matter how hot the sun is shining.

Usually it’s popular at night but some places open during the day, as it’s the perfect one-pot sustenance.

Bo zai fan has many variations, unlike claypot chicken rice, which is almost always a standard offering of marinated chicken with add-ons like salted fish, waxed sausage or even an egg.

Those who prefer the stronger, saltier, and sweeter flavours found in local claypot chicken rice may find this version of claypot rice tasteless.

Their sauce is a lighter version that uses loh chau or aged soy sauce which has a thinner consistency.

This is a marked difference from our local dark soy sauce, which is sweeter and thicker because it uses caramel, made with either sugar or molasses.

CantonTable (left) sits on a busy road inside Kota Damansara’s square. Look for Katering OnSum (right) for Yat Gor Claypot Rice at Desa Kepong’Gi Square. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Two restaurants under the same owner — one in Desa Kepong and another in Kota Damansara, covering Kuala Lumpur and Petaling Jaya — are introducing the joys of these one-pot meals.

Each portion is enough for one very hungry person or it can be shared between two small eaters.

Both locations are in areas where parking is hard to find; hence, they rely heavily on deliveries.

It pays to visit the outlets if you can since you can customise your order like insisting they cook the rice longer for a more pronounced crust.

Crust can also be found at the bottom of the claypot (left). Their Soul Sauce (right) infuses every pot with its secret combination of sauces to give it flavour. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

CantonTable is much newer and what’s interesting is they display the provenance of the ingredients that go into their claypot rice, like the Thai jasmine rice, eggs, lap cheong, an unusual mui choy lap cheong and air-dried cured pork.

The waxed meats can also be purchased separately, along with Cantonese style sweet vinegar and homemade Hakka yellow wine.

Menu choices include proteins like boneless chicken drumstick, lap mei (various options including a liver one), pork patty (called pork meat pie on the menu), pork belly, sliced beef and even Japanese unagi.

For those who miss the local claypot chicken rice, opt for the Mushroom Boneless Chicken Drumstick with a side order of salted fish and ‘lap cheong’. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Different flavours can be selected such as salted fish (they use mui heong salted fish), olive vegetable, a fragrant Japanese salty scallion sauce, mala, barbecue, prawn oil, zha chai and black beans.

And if you’re paralyzed by so many choices, just try the Lucky Box, where a random flavour will be selected for you.

Go for anything with salted fish; it will be top-notch as it perfumes the Salted Fish Pork Belly and Lap Mei (RM21.80), Salted Fish Pork Meat Pie (RM16.80) or the Mushroom Boneless Chicken (RM16.80) as an add-on.

The combination of beef and egg is a Hong Kong classic using minced beef, but this place prefers sliced beef. For a punchy flavour, go for the Japanese Style Salty Scallion Sauce Beef and Egg (RM20.80).

Japanese Style Salty Scallion Sauce Beef and Egg has a punchy flavour with the chopped scallions. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

The claypot rice arrives plain so drizzle over their quirkily named Soul Sauce — their secret combination of light soy sauce and aged soy sauce — for that much needed final touch to flavour it.

Drizzle it on the side of the claypot so the sauce reaches the bottom.

And if you want a crust, leave the bottom untouched first, allowing it to form with residual heat.

The restaurant tries to cater to local tastes by offering sliced chillies too, since most diners like a bit of spiciness with their rice.

There’s also porridge on the menu but most diners opt for the rice.

Salted Fish Pork Meat Pie Claypot Rice is a simple meal with minced pork. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

The Desa Kepong branch also offers silky homemade cheong fun, using freshly ground rice milk. It’s also available at Kota Damansara but their machine is under repair at the moment.

Minced Pork & Egg Cheong Fun (RM10.80) was slippery smooth sheets with soy sauce; it’s a great appetiser while you wait for your claypot rice, which takes at least 15 to 20 minutes to cook.

There are soups to accompany your claypot rice and both outlets offer different ones.

Slippery smooth Minced Pork and Egg Cheung Fun is made from freshly ground rice milk. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

The soups are double steamed in small pots, yielding flavorful broths in Desa Kepong but the Kota Damansara outlet prefers to boil the soup which falls short compared to the superior steamed-in-a-pot method.

For delivery, the cooked rice with your chosen topping is encased in a foil bowl to seal in the heat. For a piping hot rice, just reheat it and you’re good to go.

In Kepong, the soup is steamed in small pots, which produces concentrated flavours (left). Watercress Pork Rib Soup (right) is boiled in the Kota Damansara outlet that has a lighter flavour. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

KAJANG, Aug 11 — What makes for a complete kopitiam breakfast?

The answer depends on the person, of course. Everyone’s experience is different as it ought to be. Even for a specific diner, that answer clearly depends on the particular kopitiam.

In our case, we are now at Restoran Yew Yuan in Kajang. A typical corner lot kopitiam with a busy morning breakfast crowd.

So far so good. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Yet the fact that Yew Yuan draws throngs, visibly more than other similar shops in the neighbourhood, tells me that perhaps there is something special going on here.

Busy morning breakfast crowd. — Picture by CK Lim

For one, there is the telltale sign of customers hovering near tables waiting for the current occupants to finish eating and vacate those precious seats.

(Ostensibly there is a system to inform the proprietor you’d like a table and to join the list for seats but this being Malaysia, the degree of actual adherence corresponds to how hungry the customers are...)

At any rate, you can snack while you wait for your table if you’re truly famished. A stall in front of the kopitiam offers freshly fried yau char kwai.

Nothing like the performance magic of watching a spider skimmer diving into a huge wok, rising from the hot oil like Venus from dark waves, bearing gifts of crunchy crullers.

Freshly fried ‘yau char kwai’. — Picture by CK Lim

Fortunately for us, we didn’t have to wait long for our table so we could tuck into our deep-fried treasures while seated rather than standing.

Looks can be deceiving. The yau char kwai and ma geok are thicker than other stalls, yes. However, we find them not only still crispy, but airy too. A pleasant surprise.

There are many ways to enjoy these: Some like them as is; others prefer slicing and soaking them in hot congee, bobbing up like crouton submarines.

Here’s how I always have mine at a kopitiam: dunked into a cup of hot coffee, robust and creamy, sinfully sweet.

Given our penchant for cham, it’s no shock to regular readers that the kopi in question is blended with a good dose of teh too.

The ‘yau char kwai’ and ‘ma geok’ are thicker than other stalls but still crispy. — Picture by CK Lim

More importantly, Yew Yuan offers a darker shade of cham, stronger and more than a competent foil for the greasy sticks of yau char kwai.

No, this isn’t the healthiest of pairings but one doesn’t patronise a kopitiam for health food, surely? Indeed, who could fault this coupling of caffeine and cholesterol — not me!

Some might be appalled at the thought of corrupting the sanctity of a morning cuppa with oil-drenched carbohydrates. There is an alternative for these misguided souls.

A darker shade of ‘cham’. — Picture by CK Lim

Look no further than the popular curry mee stall (where, by my estimate, the queue is longest). You get an entirely serviceable bowl of noodles in a fiery curry broth (light on the santan for those who find coconut milk too rich), long beans, tau pok and see hum.

Many customers prefer dipping their yau char kwai into their curry mee, which, out of curiosity and in service of an investigative spirit, I too tried.

My verdict: not for me, thanks. (But you do you, yau char kwai in curry mee connoisseurs.)

Ah well, different strokes for different folks. Whatever completes your kopitiam breakfast is the right way, I say.

What completes a kopitiam breakfast for me, it turns out, is none other than our national pride: nasi lemak.

The coconut milk infused rice, the sambal, the ikan bilis, the sliced cucumber — pretty much what you’d expect. The perfect sunny side-up with crispy edges is a lovely add-on, I won’t lie.

But it’s the chicken that brings this dish to another level.

Don’t miss the sesame-studded fried chicken, more aromatic than the standard version. And if you have space for it, also order some extra fried chicken skin as topping.

Don’t miss the ‘nasi lemak’ and the sesame-studded fried chicken. — Picture by CK Lim

Not a conventional nasi lemak accompaniment, you might say, but there is an exquisite exactitude to excess, if you ask me.

More is more.

(Even when it comes to alliteration, apparently. Mayhaps especially so.)

What makes for a complete kopitiam breakfast? Today it is yau char kwai and cham, curry mee and fried chicken nasi lemak.

Tomorrow, who knows? Stay tuned to find out.

Restoran Yew Yuan 友缘茶餐室

11, Jalan KP 1/6,

Taman Kajang Prima, Kajang.

Open daily (except Mon closed) 6am-2:30pm; 5pm-9:30pm

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

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

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

KUALA LUMPUR, Aug 10 — Get your chopsticks ready as another well-known ramen place from Japan has swooped into town.

Homemade Ramen Muginae is a brand touted in Japan as one of the top places where visitors queue to savour its carefully crafted, natural broth, as described on its website.

Who can blame the rush to eat this bowl of shoyu ramen? It bears the distinction of being in the Michelin Bib Gourmand Tokyo for nine consecutive years.

For those who don’t trust Bibendum’s choices (case in point: some of the picks in our Michelin guides), this ramen has also won over the Japanese-preferred review site Tabelog, earning numerous awards including the bronze medal.

A row of Michelin accolades greets you at the entrance of Homemade Ramen Muginae at Jalan Sin Chew Kee. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi.

Expectations were high when we walked through the door of the restaurant along Jalan Sin Chew Kee, since the Michelin logo was displayed proudly outside.

A counter that seats 16 people is the best spot to watch all of the cooking action behind the scenes. Upstairs, there are five private rooms while downstairs there is just one table.

Like watching television, we were glued to the show of the chefs cooking the ramen right in front of us.

Things are done differently here; it isn’t just ramen, which is limited to three choices: Shoyu Ramen (RM40), Wonton Noodles (RM42) and Shio Ramen (RM40).

For a lighter flavour, go for their Shio Ramen with chicken broth paired with salt 'tare' and 'char siu'. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

This place mimics an izakaya – encased in a dark wood interior – offering yakitori, small dishes to pair with drinks, sashimi, Japanese fried items like tempura and fried chicken, grilled items, don (rice bowls) and sukiyaki.

This is a far cry from Japanese outlets that focus only on ramen.

From what we understand from their service staff, Homemade Ramen Muginae is brought in by an F&B company based in China, Currently, their only other outlet in Malaysia is Fish Master in The Exchange TRX.

Chef Moritani cooks the 'ramen' bowl by bowl behind the counter. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

Behind the counter, Chef Moritani from Homemade Ramen Muginae in Japan presides over the ramen cooking.

Apparently, their team of chefs from China trained in Japan on how to prepare ramen before opening this location which is Homemade Ramen Muginae’s first overseas outlet.

The noodles are reportedly brought in directly from Japan.

Essentially the ramen is divided into two types: Shoyu and Shio. The Wonton Noodles simply adds more dumplings to the bowl of ramen.

In Japan, they serve two types of shoyu ramen: one with a refined chicken-based broth (jidoridashi) or an intense dried fish (niboshi) broth, but in KL, we only have the chicken broth.

The star of the show is definitely their carefully prepared broth, which is declared free from MSG or chemical seasonings, using all natural ingredients.

When tasted, the broth served with a shoyu tare that darkens its colour possesses a clarity like consomme but a depth that suggests endless sleepless nights were spent tying all those flavours together.

Even with a spoonful of chicken oil that gives it a velvety richness, the broth isn’t oily, tempting you to quickly drink every drop.

It’s best to slurp the noodles immediately and drink the broth while it’s hot, following the Japanese custom; otherwise, you may find the noodles too soft or the broth too salty.

The straight noodles, reportedly made with Hokkaido wheat, are smooth, slightly springy and have a tad softer texture than the usual harder noodles cooked al dente elsewhere.

The toppings include their sous vide char siu made with pork shoulder, which can be a bit chewy when you get just the meat part, rather than a combination of meat and fat.

Rare Steak with Yuzu Vinegar is a good companion with drinks. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

It’s cut into decent-sized slices and blow-torched for extra char.

Also in the bowl, there’s sous vide beef with a pinkish centre and a silky wonton filled with juicy pork that has a gentle ginger flavour.

You also get a marinated whole egg, but the yolk was slightly overcooked with ragged edges, suggesting the kitchen staff needs more practice to perfect it to a jammy consistency.

On the other end of the flavour spectrum, the Shio Ramen is light and clear because the chicken broth is finished with a more subtle salt tare.

It’s a decent bowl that will suit those who enjoy lighter flavours but the star of this place is undisputedly the Shoyu Ramen due to its complex broth using natural ingredients rather than any artificial enhancements.

Glossy photos of the food from their izakaya menu tempted us to order yakitori — including chicken from head to nose, beef, pork and even seafood like abalone.

You can choose salt or sauce for grilling the sticks; the portions tend to be rather small.

We also ordered a Yuzu Whisky Highball (RM36) and their Rare Steak with Yuzu Vinegar (RM58), which featured tender pieces of meat paired instead with calamansi lime and grated radish.

The sliced meat is blow-torched (left) for extra char. Cheers to life with a refreshing Yuzu Whisky Highball (right) to cool down. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

They offer a small selection of sashimi, sushi and even tacos with different toppings.

Salmon lovers can try their Faroe Islands salmon, said to be one of the best farmed salmon compared to the typical Norwegian salmon we get everywhere.

Here their tacos resemble a hand roll since they consist only of seaweed and rice assembled with various toppings like bluefin tuna negitoro, foie gras, salmon and tuna with avocado.

The sticks (from left to right) feature Shiso Chicken Skin, Salt Grilled Prawn and Sauce Grilled abalone. — Picture by Lee Khang Yi

While the toppings are fresh and generous (salmon and avocado) and the sushi rice is well seasoned with vinegar, it faltered because the seaweed had softened and needed work to become crispier for a much needed crunch.

Homemade Ramen Muginae 麦苗

10, Jalan Sin Chew Kee,

Bukit Bintang, Kuala Lumpur

Open daily: 11am to 2pm, 5pm to 11pm.

Tel: 011-19988058

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

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

KUALA LUMPUR, Aug 9 — When chef and restaurateur Ameer Alzalek started Leen’s, he was selling hummus and traditional Syrian dishes at pop-ups and for home delivery during the pandemic. 

A dedicated following formed, and by the end of 2022, Leen’s had a brick-and-mortar home in TTDI. 

A year later, S.A.J. Bistronomy, its sister restaurant, opened basically next door. 

Then, in 2024, Leen’s was awarded a Bib Gourmand by the Michelin Guide, a recognition it has held onto since. 

After spending a decade in the industry, with stints at hotels in Penang and Langkawi, and at the now-closed Ember, Alzalek has become an established presence in four short years. 

Alzalek seems incapable of sitting still and resting on his laurels; he was involved in opening the Japanese-Levantine fusion spot Zaataru last year, though it was ultimately short-lived.

Bab has been open for just over a month, but is quickly finding an audience. — Picture by Ethan Lau

His newest venture, Bab Shawarma and Grill, is much more straightforward, and just down the road from Leen’s and S.A.J. 

Unlike the polished-yet-casual settings of the other two restaurants, Bab is styled very much like a fast-food restaurant, from the bright orange colour palette to the ordering system. 

You order, pay and wait for your number to be called — just like at Ronald’s place.

I’ve always been sceptical about chicken shawarma because I’ve yet to try one where the chicken isn’t dry. 

Even the ones I’ve enjoyed are practically slathered in toum to make up for it. I hoped to be proven wrong at Bab, but the Chicken Shawarma Wrap (RM16.90) was unfortunately more of the same — dry and slightly underwhelming, filled with chicken and garlic sauce and little else. 

A shame, because the flatbread, like the flatbreads at Leen’s and S.A.J., is wonderful.

The Chicken Shawarma Wrap is modestly filled with garlic sauce and chicken. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Much, much better was the Beef Shawarma Wrap (RM18.80), filled with nutty tahini, onions, tomatoes and parsley. 

The thin slices of beef had warm pockets of fat, which paired well with the cool, fresh accompaniments. 

My favourite bite ended up being something of a guilty pleasure: Shawarma Steak Fries (RM34.80). 

Despite the name, it has little to do with the French bistro classic, and has much more in common with the Australian takeaway classic, the halal snack pack.

The Beef Shawarma Wrap balances fat and meat with onions, tomatoes, parsley and ‘tahini’. — Picture by Ethan Lau

It’s a simple pile of kebab meat and thick-cut chips, topped with a bevy of sauces — usually chilli, garlic and barbecue.

It’s a staple for many Malaysians who studied in Australia, so much so that a local franchise has opened. 

Bab’s take on the tried and tested idea is a different animal, which sees a pile of crispy fries topped with beef shawarma meat, tahini mayo, lemon garlic butter and a generous snowfall of parmesan cheese. 

There’s no way this is good for you, but it’s so good you can afford not to care for a brief moment.

A guilty pleasure is still a pleasure: Shawarma Steak Fries satisfies the carnal desire for meat, fried potatoes and cheese. — Picture by Ethan Lau

Which, in a way, sums up the whole experience. 

Bab isn’t trying to be Leen’s, and it isn’t trying to be S.A.J. either. It’s shawarma and fries, and it doesn’t aim to be more than that. 

After the more refined and ambitious concepts, making it onto the Michelin Guide, sometimes playing the hits is what really works.

After all, crowd-pleasers are just that: crowd-pleasing.

Bab Shawarma & Grill

78, Jalan Burhanuddin Helmi, 

Taman Tun Dr Ismail, Kuala Lumpur.

Open daily, 12pm-11.30pm

Tel: 011-1151 8706

Instagram: @bab__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 to indulge in more shawarma and fries.