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....

FoodWalk: Katong - Lots’a laksa and lots more.

To many, East Coast Road in Singapore’s Katong neighborhood is just another bustling strip of old shophouses and new construction. But, in fact it’s a densely concentrated museum of Peranakan history and architecture, and the battleground for one of the nation’s great wars – food wars, that is.

If you’re driving, park at Katong Village, the old Joo Chiat Police Station. Start your foodwalk at the nearby overpass across East Coast Road, making sure to stop in the middle for a good (and possibly last) look at the former Katong Bakery & Confectionary, lovingly known as  “Red House” Bakery (75 E. Coast Rd.). For over 80 years it was famous for its Swiss rolls, curry puffs and Singapore’s first multi-tiered Westerns style wedding cake. Closed since 2003, whether it will be restored or removed remains to be seen.

At the bottom of the overpass you are entering the “laksa war zone,” a historical battleground between three principal food establishments, each claiming to be the original makers of the Nonya style laksa. Often referred to as “Katong laksa” it is the laksa standard in these parts, characterized by a heavy fish and coconut-based curry gravy, sliced fish cake, fresh prawns and short-cut noodles, eliminating the need for chopsticks to supplement a spoon.

Sample this style of Singapore’s most popular soup by turning left and crossing over Ceylon Road to Famous 49 Katong Laksa (49 E. Coast Rd.). Old schoolers will avoid the modern addition of raw cockles, opting for the original rich spicy flavor garnished only by a dollop of chili paste and minced laksa (screwpine) leaves.

Famous 49's classic Katong Laksa

At Famous 49 you can’t go wrong – but not so fast – because just across the street is another player from the laksa wars: 328 “Famous” Katong Laksa (see image at top of post). Many argue that this is the best, and certainly the most popular. You have to try it, too, to compare to the others and become a battle-hardened laksa warrior yourself.

But you're still not done, because just across the road, inside Roxy Square, is Marine Parade Laksa a/k/a “The Original Katong Laksa” (01-64 Roxy Square) – once run at the site of the present Famous 49 by laksa master “Janggut” (so named due to long hairs growing from a mole on his chin). Whose was the original Katong Laksa? Whose is best? The debate raged for years, with each establishment insisting theirs was the real McCoy until eventually reaching détente. If you ask me, they are all crazy-good, especially if no evaporated milk shortcuts have been taken like in some inferior laksa joints around Singapore. Today each vendor here has a loyal following of customers who won’t go anywhere else. So now YOU be the judge....

It is only fair to say that Janggut's is actually the true original Katong laksa leader.

Walk up Ceylon Road to Sri Senpaga Vinayagar Temple (19 Ceylon Road). This Elephant God temple – one of Singapore’s tallest – dates back to 1875. Passing through the five-tiered tower you’ll enter a cool, peaceful respite, replete with ornate carvings and art.

Back at East Coast Road make a left, heading in the direction you came. Continue to Kim Choo Kueh Chang (109 E. Coast Road), an eclectic store specializing in Peranakan treats like Nonya kueh (sweet soft rice cakes of vivid greens, pinks and yellows), Nonya rice dumplings and pastries.

Next-door is Rumah Bebe (113 E. Coast Road) where you’ll browse authentic Peranakan arts and crafts, learn the art of Peranakan beading and even take nonya-style cooking classes. This restored Peranakan store/museum/artists gallery was once Tay Buan Guan shop – a 1920’s shophouse turned popular department store.

At the corner, cross Joo Chiat Road then cross East Coast Road and continue left to block 150. Down the side street is a row of conserved terrace houses in pastel colors (150 E. Coast Rd.). It’s hard to believe that these attractive single story bungalows were once waterfront homes. They were built above ground to protect against high tides, marking the location of where sea met land in old Singapore.

Continue toward Still Road, past the towering arched roof of Church of the Holy Family (200 E. Coast Rd.) until you reach the second 328 Katong Laksa (216 E. Coast Rd.) where, if you didn’t already, you should have yet another helping of this magnificent Straits Chinese staple to further compare the noticeable differences in taste and texture between the competition. After slurping down a bowl, you are at the turn-around point in your foodwalk (and possibly in your gastronomic fortitude for the day).

A couple of doors back from where you came is the Katong Antique House (208 E. Coast Rd.) where you can dig around the many Peranakan artifacts and decorations in this authentically-decorated Straits Chinese storefront.

Then wander to the corner of Chapel Road and the traditional Chin Mee Chin Confectionary (204 E. Coast Rd.) where the cream puffs are like pillows and the Peranakan-style coffee is superb. The gentle sweet flavors will ease the lingering burn in your mouth and soak up the laksa splashing around in your stomach. Which means you will be able to eat a little more.

Mary's Corner tao kwa pau

Which is why you should head back down East Coast Road to discover the wonders of tao kwa pau; a delicate envelope of bean curd skin stuffed with minced pork, eggs, fishcakes and crunchy vegetables then doused with a rich brown duck sauce and a dollop of chili spice for just a mild jump. Beneath the green awning of the 126 Beer Garden Foodcourt (216 E. Coast Rd.) (Original) Tao Kwa Pau/Duck Rice will give an old school example of this popular dish.

The sign is quick to call itself as the “original” since across the street in Ali Baba Eating House (125 E. Coast Rd.) sits Mary’s Corner Tao Kwa Pau in the former’s original location. Sound familiar? Cross over and try their claim to fame as well. You will be surprised at the differences between the two seemingly identical dishes. For me, Mary's Corner was the best.

Finally, shift your gustatory gears to decadence and sample fine chocolate truffles or other desserts across the street at Moshie Bakes Brasserie. New last year their chocolates and pastries are accompanied by a shared-space bakery for fresh breads and a cafe in the back where you can enjoy your sweets or order additional savories. What better way to end a great foodwalk?

By the end of your journey you will see that the face of Katong is shifting, but the culture of it is not. Old shops and food stalls give way to modern ones who conduct business the same way as always – locally. The new I12 Katong Mall appears to gentify the area, but inside it's very food-centric, with a high density of eating establishments including a very fine food court -- modern, yes, but retaining the spirit of this food-focused neighborhood, just like always. So despite the appearance of progress overtaking history, the more things change in Katong the more they remain the same. Which is an important phenomenon in ever-evolving Singapore, where cultural treasures like Katong may be able to withstand the tides of change.

Packaged Laksa?!?

I’ve been spending a lot of my time over the least few weeks eating laksa. As a foodwalker I would be remiss if I didn’t – it’s one of Singapore’s premiere foods, even if loyal Malaysians argue that it’s not actually ours. But like so many things splashing over the rim of Singapore’s melting pot, the initial origin of a food does not bestow proprietary rights. Even before the early days when the legendary Mr. Janggut pedaled his short-noodle version in Katong, laksa has been one of Singapore’s most popular dishes. Today it’s found in nearly every hawker center in every heartland neighborhood. It’s in food courts, restaurants, hotels – even the airport and the Botanic Gardens. And it’s found at home, too. One stroll through a grocery store will reveal many brands of instant laksa, each extolling superior quality and taste.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. Prepackaged laksa on the shelves of your friendly neighborhood grocer? That’s treading dangerously close to that other ubiquitous meal-in-a-minute: Ramen. And comparing real ramen – a culinary discipline taking a lifetime to perfect – to those cellophane squares of stale noodles and foil packs, 10 for a buck, is much like comparing Sean Connery and George Lanzenby as James Bond: the name, pistol and cocktail are the same, but that’s as far as it goes.

Taking issue with my dour view of pre-packaged versions of any soup that normally takes all day to make, however, was a comrade in my world of food exploration. We were sitting in a hawker center eating kway chap (stewed pig organs) and beef laksa, having just talked to the guy in the stall who for the last forty years has been coming to work at 1:00 am to start his soup for the afternoon crowd. "Well, there is one instant brand that’s pretty good," my friend murmured under his breath, avoiding eye contact and the risk of physical reprisal. What’s that?" I clamored, shocked at such a statement. But he stood his ground, cleared his throat and almost looked me in the eye.  "Prima Taste," he said.

I wanted to disagree with him as a matter of principle. No way a small package from the deep shelves of Fairprice can spawn anything remotely similar to the rich, coconut, fish, spices and chili elixir that takes so long to make. But I let logic supersede my welling desire to ridicule. He is, after all, a committed eater both respected and knowledgeable about local food. Plus he’s Singaporean Chinese, so I figure he might know a thing or two. Prima Taste?

Just hours later I found myself scanning the rows of instant soups. I counted 9 brands of laksa, each claiming to be authentic. Some were better packaged than others – even going beyond cellophane and opting instead for a box (with essentially the same ingredients). I found the Prima Taste laksa and – purely in the name of food science – grabbed four, hid them beneath the toilet paper in my shopping cart and absconded as quickly as I could.

In the kitchen I examined the package more closely. The instructions were clear and simple and the level of fat suggested that this did, indeed, have some real laksa ingredients (read: this stuff is really bad for the waistline).

As this was an impromptu and somewhat dubious experiment, I did not have additions which are de rigueur in any decent laksa: fishcake, tofu, prawn and laksa leaves. So I decided to first taste the laksa as it was presented in the package, then add other ingredients from the fridge; a little cooked chicken, some sliced porkballs and fresh coriander.

The package consisted of packed Laksa premix powder, laksa spice paste smelling of balachan and a round block of nicely formed noodles. Still doubtful, I gently cooked the paste before adding the premix and water.

The noodles plumped and thickened in minutes as the broth roiled. And in just seven minutes I had before me a surprisingly fragrant pot of soup.

In the bowl, the laksa was both visually tantalizing and tasty. The noodles had a firm bite but then softened in the mouth, delivering a well incorporated noodle-to-broth balance.  The curry itself had a rich coconut background against which the pronounced seafood and spice tastes might almost fool one into thinking it had been made with the real thing. The spice level was also well defined; lighter than most authentic versions (presumably toned down for a mass market) but piquant enough to satisfy your average chili craving.

When I slurped my last noodle and drained the bowl of any remaining drops of the bright orange broth I realized that somewhere in the midst of my meal I had forgotten my predisposition against packaged soup. The laksa was, indeed, delicious, in a last minute, whip-it-up-at-home sort of way. And while it may not displace the toiling of laksa masters who have for generations been carefully blending fresh ingredients into the masterpiece that is well-made laksa, it will also not make the great Janggut roll in his grave. 

In other words – much as it pains me to say – Prima Taste Laksa is worthy of a spot in my quick-cook kitchen cupboard.