Foodwalking with Nym – Beach Eats

It’s always fun to foodwalk with food experts; especially if I can take them somewhere they’ve never been. And such was the case with Nym Punlopruska, Bangkok’s  Siren of Street food, when she was recently back in Singapore to update one of her books. I wanted to take her to some place she’d never been, just as she had done with me in her hometown. That’s no easy task with a girl like Nym, who has written more than a dozen books on food, has been Andrew Zimmern’s guide and fixer on Bizarre Foods, and is fearless in both what and where she’ll eat. In other words, my kind of Foodwalker.

“What about eats on the beach?” I asked her after a litany of “been there” and “done that” responses to my grilling her over Singapore food experiences she’d not had. “Beach? In Singapore?" was the gist of her reply to an afterthought question. “Not been, not done.”

East Coast Lagoon Hawker Centre

So off we were to East Coast Lagoon Food Centre, Singapore’s answer to seaside hawker food in lovely East Coast Park. The longest continuous oceanfront playground on the island, slipping into the gentle surf of the South China Sea and overlooking countless cargo ships and tankers offshore, this place is a magnet for those wanting to stroll, run or bike along the 12 kilometers of pathways, play in the sand, camp under coconut trees or, of course, eat. Which is why we were there.

You could sit at a table,
but why?

It’s easy to get great food here; the hawker centre has a wide selection of Chinese, Malay and even Indian stalls that are open late into the night. But there are a few specialties which draw the crowds: Satay, BBQ stingray and laksa. Most who eat here pick a table beneath an umbrella or at one of the pavilions shading large tables for group dining. But East Coast Park is all about the beach to this Foodwalker, so I suggested we take our goodies to a more apropos venue – a table in the sand.

We order our satay from Musa Ikan Bakar (stall #51), my fave of the seven or so satay joints here. A collection of skewered lamb, beef and chicken is tossed on the fire. Our plate is dressed with raw onions, cucumber and cubes of dense rice cake to compliment the meat. A side bowl of coarse, sweet and spicy peanut sauce accompanies.

Nym fanning the flames

The narrow steel satay grill pops and fizzles, spattering a little fragrant fat amidst the dancing flames and billowing smoke of the singing meat. The smell is intoxicating; earthy from the charcoal; rich and sweet from the meat and marinade.

As the flames drop off a little, Nym grabs the leafy fan from the chef and sparks it up again. We inhale deeply and moan at the haunting aroma, happy to be alive. We take our plate and head off for the next dish.

Roxy Laksa (Stal #48) makes an old-school version of its namesake dish that few can match. Mike and his wife took over the business from his father after the old Roxy Cinema in Katong closed down and the height of the so-called Laksa Wars was flaring. Not wanting to play in that field of puffery and self-promotion,  Roxy pulled up roots and headed downstream to the beach where it has been ever since. By all appearances it’s a stall like any other – though neater and sparser than most. But one bowl of nearly the only thing he sells, and you’ll realize that Mike’s mainstay of sustenance is special. Shunning the short-cut noodle style of Katong Laksa, his has full length mee noodles – smooth and silky and ever so al dente. He douses them with fiery orange laksa gravy, then pours it back into the pot, and douses them again. And again. And again, until he has infused the noodles just right, leaving them swimming in the bowl full of the rich gravy. A dollop of spicy rempah, ground laksa leaves, fish cake slices and a couple of prawns on top complete the masterpiece. But he doesn’t add the typical raw cockles unless you ask; old-schoolers never had them, so why should he.

Roxy Laksa

Seaside dining at its best!

We walked our food over to the sand, where stone tables are scattered around for picnics. There’s something about the briny breeze in your face, cooling your spoonful of laksa before your first bite, that’s sort of romantic. Like a prelude to a kiss, it blends with the coconut and spice aroma of the dish and advances it into your olfactory’s before the food even touches your mouth. And in that instance before the taste buds are activated, a flash of excitement shoots though your brain about the delicious experience to come. The gravy is coconutyy and slightly biting; not thick and viscous like that of some who take condensed milk shortcuts, but smooth and complex, triggering all 6 senses in your mouth at the same time like a symphony of flavor.

I’m one of those people who get emotional about beautifully grilled meat, and the plate of satay raised a lump in my throat. Between each chicken slice on the bamboo skewer was a small flap of fatty skin – the old-school answer to making a good dish great. The lamb and beef was drippingly moist, sweetened by the marinade that was brushed on while dancing in the flames. The peanut sauce, slightly piquant with the right coarse crunch and hint of heat, expanded the flavors in my mouth and stirred a haunting memory of a place called Home – even though I’m not from were this dish comes. Seems comfort food is comfort food, no matter where you're from. I looked at Nym and recognized her own efforts to suppress the misting in her eyes as she slowly chewed in hallowed silence, lost in her own happy place.

Mixed satay from Musa Ikan Bakar

So whenever someone complains about Singapore not really being a beachy island kind of place, I tell them about East Coast Park and the great food available to enjoy on the edge of the sand in the sun by the sea....

Biting the Big Mango

What a time I recently had in Bangkok, eating my way down the street. Foodwalking in the Big Mango means traffic, trains and life-flashing rides on the back of motorcycle taxis. And of course, lots of walking. As is often the case in foodwalking, it isn’t always pretty, but it’s always interesting. And if you’ve spent much time in Bangkok you know that principle applies here in spades.

Mango Sticky Rice

Especially if hauled into a dank, 70’s sleaze bar along Soi Cowboy, where one can’t tell the provocative girls from the even more provocative lady-boys until they reveal their beer bellies (I’m talking about the girls here…). But the Belgian beer was great and vintage Rolling Stones blasting across a dark room always makes any place seem better, even if the only thing to see is, well, beer bellies….

It’s a funny thing when culinary explorers get together off the clock. Like the chefs who leave their kitchens after hours to eat and drink in no-name joints, we went to places off the food grid; tiny joints that we’re too selfish to tell anyone about. 

Awesome food guru, Nym (left)  and NY writer, Nawa made sure I didn't miss anything.

And just whenever it seemed the night was ending, my amazing food maven Nym, or buddy Luk or some sudden new Bangkok food friend would mention some little stall that’s open late and serves the best whatever in all of Bangkok and do I want to go check it out? Is a floating market on the water? Is sticky rice sticky? 

Of course I want to go!

Mind-blowing Som Tam (green papaya salad)

Crispy Roast Pork - crazy!

 At the famous Sukhumvit Soi 38, the nighttime street is lined with stalls selling exceptional food. Tables flood into the road as cars and scooters and people scrape by through the smoke and steam of the many stalls. 

Soi 38

Your ears ring with the clanging of woks, sizzling of meats and calling of vendors as you work your way past stacks of fish, piles of meat, pyramids of gorgeous fruit, fresh-squeezed calamansi, sugarcane or pomegranate juice, cooked insects and tailless cats prowling the curbs. It’s a food frenzy here every night and for good reason. Stall after stall – each legendary in it’s own quiet way – is serving up one or two signature dishes that’ll scar your memory. 

Pad Thai the way it's supposed to be made.

It’s impossible not to gorge yourself, moving from stall to stall, table to table, eating, drinking, pointing and asking questions in broken English and tragically-mispronounced Thai and shooting photographs rapid fire like a war zone journalist, until suddenly it ends in vacant darkness two blocks down the street. And all you want is to turn around and do it all again.

Crab Fried Rice

And here’s the crazy thing: all of this is just on one street. Hundreds of other streets are just like it, with pushcarts and scooter-grills and open-walled buildings with counters blocking the interiors, all cooking and selling food, crowded by small well-worn tables and plastic stools, hugging the curbs, blocking the path, taking over. Because that’s what food in Bangkok is all about – the street. Everyone here eats something on the street at least once a day because it’s fresh and hot and cheap and fantastic. And I haven’t even written about Chinatown yet!

So Forget Sin City – because when it comes to food fun at night, it’s Bangkok, Baby!

Sticky Rice

FoodWalkers has been on an extended foodwalk and has left you hungry and waiting for more. Sorry for the absence, but it has not been because of indigestion – to the contrary – I’ve been busier than ever gorging across Asia and building an all new and improved FoodWalkers soon to be released. That’s right, a new pair of shoes for FoodWalkers. 

Coming soon!