Because in Singapore there's no excuse for having a bad meal.

Not always pretty, but always interesting....

Playing with his food – a day off with Chuck Hughes

Chuck Hughes is a fun guy. Bright, smiling and a little bit loud, he’s one of those guys you don’t expect to look in person like he looks on TV. Maybe that’ because he looks too good on TV, where he hosts Chuck’s Day Off on the Asian Food Channel and across other food networks around the world. He has a baby face, neatly trimmed hair and a wide, toothy smile. I expect that if one of Chuck’s long-lost childhood friends bumped into him unexpectedly, he would say Chuck hasn’t changed a bit. He’s that kind of guy, grown-up but still boyishly exuberant. And after just a few minutes in the kitchen with him I found myself feeling that way, too – it seems Chuck is contagious.

Chuck Hughes on his "shell phone."
Chuck’s recent visit to Singapore was hosted by the Asian Food Channel and American Express, as part of their Celebrity Chef Series, which aims to showcase extraordinary chefs from around the world to Singapore’s hungry enthusiasts.  In keeping with AFC’s outstanding reputation for airing not just high quality food programming but also limiting it to chefs with real passion, only the most fervent cooks are included in the series. So far this year Mark McEwan turned up the heat with European cuisine, and Adrian Richardson made perfect cuts to mouth watering meats. So it’s only natural that Chuck, with his youthful energy and effervescent sense of humor, would be asked to show some skills. And did he ever.

From the moment he took to the range in the beautiful AFC Studio at Orchard Central, Chuck glowed with energy and enthusiasm. His demeanor was relaxed and casual and he made a few jokes before addressing the mis en place on the counter before him. Next to small dishes filled with chilies, onions and other herbs and veg sat two Atlantic Lobsters, flown in live from Canada. And so he started to cook, slicing, chopping, squeezing and pureeing to make a sauce for his first dish, Jerked Atlantic lobster; his own riff on North East shellfish cooking by adding Jamaican flavor and fire.

He talked and laughed the whole time, and with each ingredient he took a moment to examine it, discuss its fine qualities, revere it. Simple items took on great importance, like limes which he squeezed then, after smelling the skin, decided to zest into the dish “because it just smells so good.” He extolled the often-disregarded wonder of celery leaves – "don't just toss them in a stock or throw 'em away" – before adding them to his puree. He inhaled the aroma of fresh rosemary and marveled at the beauty of a paper-thin slice of fresh ginger. That’s the kind of passion this guy has.

Jerked Atlantic Lobster

Suddenly the lobster – perfectly cooked to translucent – was done, plated and the fiery jerk sauce poured over it. The taste was a fine interplay of sweet shellfish and mild yet pronounced tropical spice; not an overpowering heat masking the tender meat, as I half-expected. But balanced and thought out. Gorgeous to all senses.

Seared Carpaccio with Homemade Potato Chips and Lemon Aioli.
 Watching Chuck cook is like watching a really big kid play with his food. He was as comfortable with a perfectly-marbled tenderloin – from which he made Pan Seared Carpaccio to go with his Homemade Potato Chips – as he might have once been with Lego. His movements were second nature and precise. His Japanese knives were like extensions of his hands, his nose the barometer of what he would do with whatever he happened to be holding. He admired the smoke when he seared the beef. He sang and laughed as he whipped oil into aioli. This guy wasn’t working – he was playing.

He rolled dense chocolate ganache into soft pearl tapioca and formed them into tiny balls with all the excitement of a kid in a snowball fight. Dropping them in hot oil, he transformed them into delicate arancini for dessert. 

Chocolate Tapioca Arancini

And he plated all of his food with creative folly; a little of this, maybe some of that, “oh, and these look good; let’s toss some of them on, too!” And each dish delivered that casual, playful sensation in the mouth – borne from the hands of a talented man with the spirit of a kid and the happiness of someone doing what he loves to do most – cook. 
Chuck grew up in Québec speaking mostly French and hanging out with the same childhood friends that he hangs out with today. He discovered the joy of cooking at a young age and eventually, at his mother's suggestion, attended culinary school at Institut de tourisme et d’hôtellerie du Québec and later worked his way through several of Montreal’s hottest restaurants. Eventually he and two of those best friends opened their own place, Garde Manager, a laid back eating joint with an open kitchen so he and his staff could join in on the fun out front. Having so much fun – and success – they opened another, Le Bremner, to solid bookings and lines out the door. In other words, this guy has made a life out of his favorite passion, and on his day off he has buddies come to the closed restaurant to cook and eat to loud music.

Chuck's favorite temp: 275.
This love of food is not just always on Chuck Hughes’ mind; it’s on his body, too. In line with modern kitchen culture, Chuck has some tattoos – okay, a lot of tattoos. So I asked him for a tour. And like a kid doing show & tell he started running through them, each with a story. There's a lobster crawling on his forearm, arugula on his wrist (bacon on the other) and lemon meringue pie on a triceps (“some of my favorite foods!”).  These are intermixed with the occasional skull, words (including “mom”) and still more food: pineapple on his shoulder, oysters on an arm and a potpourri of produce wrapping around his bicep. My favorite was his universal cooking temperature – 275° – inked on his forearm (“so I won’t forget”). Then he surprised the room by showing his newest tat: the AFC logo. He laughed, admitting it was black marker as a joke (“But I’m thinking of maybe making it permanent!”). I suggested an artichoke would be cool – he nodded slowly with a broad, toothy smile and asked to steal the idea. Dude, of course….


 It’s always fun to watch an accomplished chef like Chuck Hughes make such tasty food look so easy. His joy is genuine; his passion authentic. And that transfers, almost by osmosis, into serious cooking, styling and taste. Because despite his boyish charms, Chuck Hughes is no child in the kitchen, as Bobby Flay painfully discovered last year when Chuck beat him on Iron Chef America.  But as serious as Chuck's cooking is, at no time does this serious chef take himself too seriously. And that’s what the joy of cooking is all about.

Watch Chuck’s Day Off  every Monday - Friday at 11:00pm on the

Westlake Restaurant: Back to basics, old-school style

Within the realm of coffeeshops and eating houses that anchor Singapore to high quality, local food one sometimes finds a place that is a cut above – usually older than most – and often overlooked by younger, well-heeled diners searching for the newest hotspot or longest queue. And one of those old joints is Westlake.

Westlake’s location on the second level void deck of a large HDB housing estate is uncommon. The void deck is lined on both sides with little shops – bicycle stores, hairdressers and local sundries for the residents of the towers looming above. There are also a few eating houses with local fare and even an Italian pizza/pasta joint. At the far end sits Westlake, a stronghold of the community for nearly forty years and known by informed foodies as a place to get some really special food.
There are so many good things to eat in this unassuming, pastel green establishment. Like the Sichuan Hot & Sour Soup. I stand by the theory that you can tell the quality of the Chinese restaurant simply by this dish. If it’s good, then the cook knows what he’s doing; if it’s bad, that losing streak will probably continue through the meal. And if it has that freshly opened, tinny flavor and sticky sheen of chemical preservatives, you are best to kindly ask for the check and flee, never to see the inside of the place again.
So when Westlake’s version was set before me I surreptitiously leaned in for a look. It was chock-full of classic ingredients, mushrooms, tofu, drips of egg and so much more. And the taste delivered everything its appearance promised. The flavors mischievously  wavered between a tickle of burn, the cleansing bite of sourness and a soft yet deliberate crunch of almost-sweet vegetable. Its silky base was free of any gelatinous, artificial texture. It was finished with a healthy dusting of white Chinese pepper and a swirl of sesame oil, lest one forget its Chengdu origin. It was the best I’ve had in Singapore.
Then there were the fried dumplings. Now I generally prefer steamed or boiled dumplings, with their smooth skins and moist, meaty insides. But at Westlake the fried dumplings are a must – unless you do not like golden brown skins that are crisped so perfectly you can feel their tensile surface before you even put one in your mouth, Your bite is a satisfying cracking into a light, porky filling blended with chives and ginger and a hint of garlic.  A dip in one of the sauces and the skin still holds its uncommon crispness while absorbing the dark soy and chili addition. Imagine the absolutely addictive texture of great sio bak roast pork – now imagine that same sensation in a dumpling. That’s what you have here. Pure heaven.
Next came a plate of Gong Bao Chicken which delivered more Sichuan flavors; a bit unusual for a restaurant which is decidedly not Sichuan. The dried chili’s were large and cut into healthy chunks, softened slightly in the wok and delivering a spice and smoke burn that was tempered by a tingling of glutinous rice wine vinegar in the sauce. The chicken was tender, contrasting nicely with the crunchy water chestnuts and strands of spring onion. This ain’t your usual “Kung Po Chicken” from your neighborhood HappyDragonGreatWall back in the States. This is the real deal, straight from owner Mr. Lim Long Law’s own background of favorite foods.

And speaking of favorite foods, the next dish, Kong Bak Pau was it; the cat’s meow and Westlake’s main event. It starts with a platter of lusciously braised pork belly with remarkably tender skin, a thin band of fat and soft, juicy meat, slathered with a rich dark soy-based sauce which you have to resist (or not!) just eating with a spoon.
Beside the platter is a pile of steamed buns. But not just any old steamed buns, alkaline buns, so pillowy and soft. The great noodle makers of Asia, most notably Japan, understand the benefits of alkalinity in their dough – a firmness to the noodle that enables it to keep its structure and texture even after floating in a hot bowl of ramen. It’s a magical construct for dough and at Westlake they’ve decided it’s not just for noodles anymore. The result is a bun that’s firm and springy with a tight, off-white skin and a dense, cushiony interior. It absorbs liquids effortlessly without becoming mushy or falling apart like a traditional bum -- the consummate delivery system for the oh-so-good pork and sauce. The Kong Bak Pau alone is worth the trip to Westlake and indeed is the main draw for those who know. But combine it with the other great dishes and, like me, lose your mind.

I could end here, hopefully leaving you drooling and dialing for a cab or, even better, an airplane ticket to get you here. But why stop now?

Because I would be remiss to disregard the gorgeous Chicken/Prawn Yam Basket, an interpretation perhaps of that much-loved creation of Chef and Heavenly King Hooi Kok Wai. A wonderful combination of flavors from land and sea, accented by crisp, delicate vegetables in a light sauce and encircled by crisp-fried, deliciously-starchy yam paste.
Then there was the Black Pepper Sri Lankan Crabs, drenched in piquant black pepper sauce that is tempered to just a subtle burn by first being sautéed in butter and soya. Again, balance is the guiding principle behind this dish, with the sweet chunks of barely-cooked crab waltzing delicately with the spicy sauce. Like Mozart for the mouth.

Steamed Bean Curd with Kang Kong came next. It’s the kind of dish you don’t expect to enjoy at first glance, but simply can’t help yourself once you taste it. Soft bean curd, cooked down to an opaque, gelatinous chowder supported small squares of steamed pumpkin and salted egg, all encircled by steamed greens. 
The flavor was delicate and satisfying, like silken tofu with added flavors, and texturally complete with the thick curd “glue” holding the dish together and merging the flavors into one. It was a good way to begin our gentle descent from the sky-high robustness of the dishes which preceded it.
The feast ended like any good Asian feast should: with a plate of soft noodles. The Chee Cheong Fun noodles were rolled up and doused with a smooth brown sauce and a scattering of sesame seeds. A dollop of slightly spicy sambal added a little umami burst to the otherwise soft bed of featherweight noodles that acted as a gentle comfort food finish.
The last item – as a savory dessert – was a bronzed, toothy Spring Onion & Chives Pancake which merged the savory flavors of the meal with a fresh, green sweetness from the onions and chives. It was crispy on the outside and soft and flaky inside, acting as the perfect closer to a memorable meal of old-school dining.

Westlake Restaurant
Queen’s Road
Block 4
6474 7283

Joo Chiat Foodwalk - Wandering the tasty trail!

The main event at Joo Chiat Prawn Mee

Joo Chiat in Singapore’s East Coast is all about food, which naturally makes it one of my favorite neighborhoods on this island of culinary treasures. Originally developed for growing coconuts and spices, it became a getaway for the wealthy in the 1920s. Now it’s a national heritage conservation area, with some of Singapore’s finest pre-war architecture and shophouses. And fantastic food. So take a two hour foodwalk for a little taste of some of the best of the best.

Geylang Serai Food Center
Begin your trip exiting the Paya Labar MRT station. And come hungry, because you’re not just touring a fascinating neighborhood, you’re foodwalking, so you're going to eat. Cross Sims Avenue, walk to Changi Road and turn left to stroll past the Malay Village, a collection of kampong huts and rundown bungalows housing souvenir treasures. Next door is the massive Gelang Serai Food Center, consisting of both wet market and excellent hawker center. Grab a cup of  kopi to start your day and stroll around reading about the history of the area on many posters and murals upstairs. But then, at Geylang Serai/Joo Chiat intersection, cross the street onto Joo Chiat Road. Welcome to food heaven.

The street is lined with shops ranging from bicycles, household supplies, clinics and, of course, restaurants. On the left near the corner of Joo Chiat Terrace you’ll come to Kway Guan Huat Coffeeshop (95 Joo Chiat Rd.). If it’s the weekend you’ll see in the open air storefront, a few old guys standing over hot griddles, dabbing dough to make popiah skins – those paper thin wrappers for Hokkien-style spring rolls. With a handful of loose, wiggling dough they touch it on the griddle and pull it back. The sheen which sticks to the hot surface cooks for a couple of seconds, transforming into the skin. The critical element to truly excellent popiah is the skin and these guys make it look so easy, but it requires a skilled hand to touch with just the right pressure and twist of the wrist to get the perfect thickness and texture.  

Zita Quek
Next door the popiah itself is made, with a slather of mashed garlic and soy syrup beneath a delicately cooked melange of turnip, carrots, prawns, egg, crispy dough bits and crushed peanuts. It’s all wrapped, stretched and rolled tight in the featherweight skins and cut like a sushi roll by – if you’re lucky – Zita Quek, the second generation owner who, with her infectious smile, has been making them here for over forty years. And when you taste them you will understand why all the fuss.

Across the street at the Masjid Khalid mosque you can peek into a no-frills, working man’s temple before heading to Sha Zah Confectionery (105 Joo Chiat Rd.) for Malay curry puffs. Unlike those ubiquitous half-moon versions, these are flat, flaky layers of pastry enveloping savory mutton, chicken or other fillings, handmade from scratch right there and sold over an open counter on the sidewalk. It's best not to look all too closely in the kitchen out back, because the amount of oil in the savory mutton filling will make your cardiologist double his rates. But try a fresh one warm from the oven and you'll want take more home so when you wake in the middle of the night craving it, they’ll be there.
The curry puffs are definitively not dietetic at Sha Zah.

Work off your snack at Changi Junk Store (125 Joo Chiat Rd.), where you can squeeze around thirty years’ worth of Chinese furniture, pottery, clocks and random items including a dried sawfish snout. It’s a cluttered treasure trove of, well, junk that is somehow alluring to sift through. The store’s name is well-suited.

The Lotus Shophouses
At the corner of Joo Chiat Place make a left. This street is lined with old Peranakan shophouses hugging the sidewalks and precarious open rainwater trenches. Local businesses mix with little restaurants and residences in this mixed area. At Everitt Road sits the Lotus Shophouse Collection, a tidy row of white shophouse residences, each with identical shuttered doors and windows and symmetrical, raised relief tiles reminiscent of old Peranakan architecture. In fact it's a row of attached condos which on their other side form and internal courtyard oasis of grassy lawn and palm trees. 

At Fei Fei - this is all you need to know.
Across the street is the Sin Wah Coffeeshop (62 Joo Chiat Place) housing the Fei Fei Noodle stall and, interestingly, just next door is the flagship Fei Fei Coffeeshop -- both of  which serve some of the most well-respected wanton mee in old-school hawker rooster bowls. Ask for chili sauce with your noodles; it will come in a Chinese spoon resting on top. Stir it all together, pulling the liquid in the bottom of the bowl throughout the perfectly al dente noodles. And don’t forget to order the wanton soup on the side. The minced pork wantons with a perfect little prawn inside float in a delicate broth. This meal is as good as it gets – for about $5 – so slurp your noodles loudly! If you like noodles (and who reading this doesn't?), you'll love Fei Fei.

Much as you will want to order another bowl at Fei Fei, don’t. Because just a few doors back toward Joo Chiat Road is Kim Choo Kueh Chang (60 Joo Chiat Pl.). Sample their classic Nonya bak chang dumplings – glutinous rice pyramids wrapped in bamboo leaves and steamed – containing treasures of pork, chestnuts, mushrooms, salted egg and soy. 

Making Bak Chang rice dumplings.
Inside they're making them fresh by hand, scooping the filling from large bowls, stuffing them in the sticky rice, and folding them artfully into perfect pyramids, large and small. Variations of fillings are marked by colored ribbons and you’ll want to buy a box of mini-dumplings for another midnight snack.

Continuing back toward Joo Chiat Road, turn left onto Tembling Road and stroll the neighborhood. At Koon Seng Road hang a right and pass rows of old Peranakan shophouses adorned with colorful facades and tiles. Some of these residences are renovated; others not, but they're all are authentic, with beautiful tiles, plaster reliefs and gentle, pastel colors. Don't miss this picturesque little block. 

Go left and continue down Joo Chiat Road, passing Chinese herbal clinics, great restaurants and countless local storefronts. At Joo Chiat Lane gaze up at the dragons on the corner for more of Singapore’s architectural past. In fact all through this neighborhood you'll notice old architecture and a sense of old local culture continuing on in the face of modern change. 

Pure, whipped D-24 durian for the puffs
Old meets new as you approach bustling East Coast Road. But first you’ll come to Puteri Mas Durian Puffs (475 Joo Chiat Rd) – perhaps the best place to reexamine your feelings about the king of fruit. Here they fill delicate choux pastry (used for profiteroles) with creamy durian and chill it. That's it -- durian and delicate pastry. Just two bites finishes this treat as the sweetness of the choux mingles with the subtle brie-and-garlic flavor of unadulterated, creamy fruit. Think you hate durian? Think again.

A few steps further and you’ve reached East Coast Road in the heart of Katong and the end of this foodwalk (watch for my upcoming Foodwalkers posting on that fabulous strip of laksa heaven)From here you can head back, perhaps -- if you're still hungry -- stopping at Joo Chiat Prawn Mee (15 Crane Rd.) along the way. Their perfect noodles, sweet, tender prawns and magical liquid sauce that pulls it all together will make you swoon over this unassuming little hawker stall hidden off the beaten path.

Or save it for a future foodwalk – I’ll lead the way – because there’s so much more amazing food to fall in love with in Joo Chiat!

Red Star: it’s not just about Dim Sum

For many people in Asia the two words, “Red” and “Star” evoke memories of Communist China and Chairman Mao standing in salute  as his motorcade rolled along Tiananmen Square. But for me, the words mean something entirely different: good food.

I’ve been going to Red Star Restaurant for traditional Cantonese dim sum since I first moved to Singapore. Dozens of Chinese ladies push trolleys around the massive room, each with different dim sum delights. It’s crowded and noisy and confusing, and sometimes you have to be kiasu and cut the pushcart ladies off at the pass to get the items you desire before diners at other tables take them all. “Wah, if you think it’s good for dim sum, you need to have dinner there. That’s where you get the really great stuff, lah!” Andrew told me with a slap on the back. So naturally I was one of the first to sign up for the recent Makanforum at the place where all who love old school Chinese food flock whenever they can.

A word about Red Star. It’s not a place one would accidentally wander into. It’s on the 7th floor of an old HDB housing estate wedged between Chinatown and Robertson Quay. The lift is small and slow and aside from the restaurant’s old neon sign several stories above the street, there’s no way to know that this non-descript building holds some of Singapore’s best – and most recognized – Cantonese cooking from days of old. It’s not until the lift doors open to a long queue of hungry Asians that you realize you’ve arrived somewhere special.

Inside, the dining room is enormous. The décor is classic Chinese restaurant circa forever: red carpet, red and gold walls, red ceiling. Hanging Chinese lanterns adorn the place and a small stage for ceremonies sits along one wall. Scattered throughout are round tables and if you come on a typical day most of them will be filled with Chinese families from newborns to octogenarians; all in varying states of enjoyment over the vast selection of food that has been served here for decades. The room will be loud with the undefinable sounds of families and friends doing what the people in Singapore do better than nearly any society anywhere: sharing food.

Grand Master Chef and Heavenly King, Sin Leong.
In the massive kitchen, a fleet of young chefs work intently on piles of food for the evening’s feast. One wall is lined with burners of jet fire roaring up beneath red-glowing woks sizzling with fragrant food. At the far end of the kitchen stands a large, antique dishwasher – perhaps Singapore’s first. Nearby is a Chinese alter, red wood and columns, with incense burning in front of a faded photograph of the granddaddy who started it all: Chef Luo Chen, who serves as a reminder to current cooks to carry on his legacy of exceptional dining. 

Makanguru KF Seetoh introducing the Heavenly
Kings, Chef Sin Leong & Chef Hooi Kok Wai,.

Walking toward me between long, stainless counters of the kitchen was the Grandmaster Chef and Heavenly King himself, Sin Leong, greeting and embracing me as if a long lost friend. Chef Leong is one of Singapore’s greatest Cantonese chefs – which is why the Chinese government bestowed upon him and 3 other masters in Singapore the honor and title of China’s Heavenly Kings of food – and they weren’t even in China. Seetoh was on hand to kickoff the dinner and introduce the 2 remaining Heavenly Kings who still grace the kitchens of Singapore, Chef Sin Leong and Chef Hooi Kok Wai.

Classic New Years dish, Yu Sheng -- required for any Lo Hei Celebration

The meal served under Chef Leong’s watchful eye was classic. It began with a traditional Chinese New Year Yu Sheng. This is a complex, Teochew-style raw fish salad consisting of up to twenty five ingredients and capped with thin slices of raw fish. The contemporary version of this dish was created in 1964 in Singapore's Lai Wah Restaurant by Chef’s Leong’s friend and fellow Heavenly King, the late Chef Than Mui Kai. Traditionally mackerel was used but increasingly – including this night – salmon was the fish of choice. Each ingredient represents a specific wish: raw fish for abundance; carrot for luck; chopped peanuts for gold, silver and eternal youth; daikon for a flourishing career; cinnamon for a sweet life – the list goes on. Combined as a salad, the ingredients form the basis of the Lo Hei celebration, done only during the Lunar New Year in virtually every Chinese household, restaurant or group gathering across Singapore.

Lo Hei celebration
We grabbed chopstickfuls of the salad from the communal platter and tossed it in the air seven times, representing the seventh day of the Chinese new year. Everyone at the table participated, lest one risk missing out on the prosperity that would surely ensue. Afterwards, the mess across the table was pulled together and served as the start to a lavish Chinese meal.

Stewed Shark Fin with Pig’s Tail in Claypot came first. The shark was smooth and silky, set off nicely with the pink porkiness of the small tails. The opaque, viscous sauce held the dish’s components together.

A platter of Steamed Fish Head in Bean Sauce followed, and we eagerly scooped out such tantalizing parts as the cheeks, collar and, of course, eyeballs.

Poached chicken - so good all that was left was the head.

Next came Pan-Fried Prawns in Special Sauce, quickly followed by a Poached Chicken with Ham & Broccoli in a thick beige ginger sauce. The chicken was moist and flavorful, complimented by the ginger and a satisfying crunch of perfectly cooked broccoli. Nary a morsel was left.

The dish that followed was the highlight of the meal for me, but one I did not expect to relish: Claypot Pork Liver with Ginger and Spring Onion. The key to this hot dish was to eat it quickly to ensure that the luscious liver remained medium rare and slightly pink in the middle. The dark sauce was rich and not livery at all, indicating the short amount of cooking time of the offal. Offset by the green freshness of the spinrg onions against a backdrop of steamed rice, the liver was surprisingly mild and delicious, although might have been even better if sliced thinner. 

Even New York niece Alison ate some of this, her family's  most feared of all “parts,” displaying a perhaps genetically-programmed Foodwalker fearlessness! She finished her bite, sipped an excellent apricot block shiraz, and announced to me that it didn’t suck. I was as proud as an uncle could be.

What followed was at first hard to discern, much less describe. The Crispy Duck with Glutinous Rice stuffing appeared  as an unidentifiable mass of deep fried yam batter wrapped around a stomach-sized stuffed duck. Inside, the duck and rice mingled delicately, if not a little dense, and delivered a earthy, waterfowl flavor with a savory, starchy rice emphasis. A bit less yam batter might have improved the dish and better-controlled the degree of cooking within. Still, nothing was left at the table.

The food at Red Star is old school and excellent and whether you’re looking for dim sum or dinner it’s hard to go wrong here. Combine that with the history of the restaurant, it’s local ambience and, of course, Heavenly King Sin Leong, and you have a recipe for great dining at one of Singapore’s most authentic Cantonese establishments.

Red Star Restaurant
Blk 54 Chin Swee Road
Singapore 160054