Black Is Beautiful - the secret behind Singapore's great kaya toast

There's something about the toast in Singapore. With every steaming sweet kopi one can get thin-sliced bread toasted over open heat to a brittle crispness on the outside and a warm tenderness in the middle. A smear of kaya and butter and it's a thing of breakfast beauty. But what makes it so good? I mean, it's just baked bread, right?

Wrong -- if it's from Sing Hon Loong.

At Sing Hon Loong Bakery in Singapore's colorful Balestier neighborhood they still bake bread the old school way. Large ovens line the rear of the store behind long tables laden with lumps of hand made dough. At the other end of the table, hot loaves are delivered with tops charred black as if having been forgotten in the oven during a phone call from a long lost lover.

But upon closer examination the loaf tops are charred uniformly and a certain, sumptuous smokiness fills the air as they cool. It’s Blackhead bread, an old Singaporean tradition that they’ve been baking for decades.

“The charred cap gives it extra flavor," said the baker. "Try it." He cut a freshly-trimmed slice from a warm loaf and pushed it across the enormous, antique baking counter toward me. He was right, it did have the slightest hint of smoky, almost-caramelized essence, distinct without coming on too strong. That mere suggestion of intense heat on top transformed a common loaf into something exotic, alluring and evocative of an earlier, simpler time.

Though they use some modern equipment today, y'know, like baking ovens that have regulated gas flame instead of a charcoal fire and even a 1960's electric bread slicer to cut the countless finished loaves, the primary equipment used for baking bread here is more organic: human hands. Strong hands that crank out thousands of loaves weekly, and not all the same kind; sweet loaves, raisin, wholemeal, white, and so much more are created here.

But Blackhead loaves are reserved just for kopi, being picked up daily by some of Singapore's most respected kopi institutions across the island including Ya Kun at their famous flagship kopitiam in Chinatown's Far East Plaza

 

At any given time the one-roomed bakery and store is filled with ancient rolling carts holding trays of cooling or already-cut loaves, or soon to be baked dough. It's rolled, pounded, kneaded and slapped into delectable creations that are as intoxicating to the eye as they are to the tongue.

And the nose. The warm, fresh-baked smells from this fifty year old bakery reach you on the busy street before you even get there. Like a cartoon image, you almost float along the curling trail of delicious, doughy aroma: freshly milled flour, the sweet pinch of live yeast on your nose, the smoky, charred tops. If you like bread then this place will draw you in and keep you coming back.

After the bread has cooled the guy in the back stands barefoot with a long, razor sharp knife and slices the tops off in clean, smooth motions. The black crusts drop to the floor, leaving the line of trimmed loaves resembling new army recruits after getting their high-and-tights. Sliced and toasted, you'd never know the tops were scorched like a forest after a fire -- until you take a bite and get that whisper of smoke that makes you feel warm and safe in the memory of your childhood.

I smiled and nodded slowly while chewing the bread the baker gave me, savoring the deep, earthy flavor and pillowy texture. Then he pushed the entire loaf in my direction. "For your kids," he smiled. See, that's just what chefs and bakers are like throughout this island nation of foodies; if you share a passion for the food they make -- which is the food that their parents made, and the food their parents' parents made -- then you're an instant friend. The international language of food is spoken well in Singapore.

And if you're really friendly you might even get a scoop of sweet butter or kaya from the vat on the counter to spread on a fresh, still-hot slice. By the time you're done you won't be able to leave without at least a couple of baguettes or loaves under your arm.

Sing Hon Loon Bakery
4 Wampoa Drive
Balestier, Singapore

Ice Cream at Opposite Ends of the Earth

Two different people, two different places, one idea so stunningly similar it’s hard to imagine they are not one and the same. 

Who knew ice cream could be so exciting?

The story is remarkable: two men whom to this day have never met; never even heard of each other. Both about the same age, with careers, kids and obligations to keep them busy. One on this side of the earth, the other 9,000 miles away. And each with a dream for making people happy – with ice cream. 

No big deal, right? 

But close your eyes and visualize, like a split screen, with each man in his own side. One is Caucasian, the other, Asian. One is from America; the other, Singapore. Each wants to leave their career, take some risks and make ice cream; but not just any ice cream – the best ice cream, using only locally-sourced products, made in small batches by caring artisan hands. Each wants their place to be relaxed, cool, fun. Each wants their ice cream to reflect the local ambiance and culture of where they are – in America, the bounty of high quality, low-yield farmers who painstakingly grow the best fruit found anywhere; in Singapore, flavors embracing local iconic food and culture. And here’s the kicker: neither of these men have ever made ice cream before or know anything about it. So they each go to ice cream school –  the same ice cream school. They each return home. They each open a store. And, they each give it a name; the same name: Island Creamery. And how does the story end? With ice cream on opposite ends of the earth that blows your socks off.

In Chincoteague…

Kelly Conklin

“It’s all about making the best product possible and giving each guest a flavor experience that they'll still talk about after they leave,” explains Kelly Conklin, owner of Island Creamery in Chincoteague Island, Virginia on the Eastern Shore of the United States. Conklin chased his dream by attending Penn State University’s Ice Cream Short Course, the world’s preeminent educational program dealing with the science and technology of ice cream. He then took those skills back to the small island he and his family call home. 

Now it’s the target of summer evening outings for nearly every local and holiday beachcomber on Chincoteague Island. Each night the queue stretches out the door and across the car park, all to the sound of family laughter and fun. Until a sacred hush descends on each customer at the first taste of their selected scoop.

Island Creamery’s ice cream is made on the spot in just two surprisingly small machines which, it seems, are always running; cranking out batches of remarkably fresh flavors. "The great thing about making every drop of ice cream ourselves is that we create only what we want based upon the best ingredients at any given time," explains Conklin. But a twinkle in his eye reveals more. "And we also get to play with ideas and invent new flavors." Some of the most popular of these creations bear names like Pony Tracks, Bourbon Carmel Crunch, Marsh Mud and Elvis' Chocolate Dream. 

There's little they won't do to make the many ice cream offerings perfect, like caramelizing bananas on the spot to add into Banana Carumba, or mixing up their own batter to blend into Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough. One day they're baking homemade gingersnaps and crumbling them into fresh-squeezed lemon juice for Lemon Ginger Snap; the next day they're salting, buttering and roasting Georgia pecans to blend with homemade chocolate into Chocolate Pecan; and the following morning they may be peeling, frying and pureeing local tubers and pralines for Candied Sweet Potato Crunch. The flavors go on and on, most becoming seasonal additions to their constantly-changing menu of frozen goodness.

Fresh-picked peaches straight from the farm.

But perhaps best are the seasonal fruit offerings, when they crush blueberries with a fork and hand slice pineapples, cantaloupes, strawberries or nearly anything that's fresh from the farm and drop it into the tanks that churn the creamy mixtures into magic -- deceptively simple-sounding flavors like Cantaloupe, Blueberry or perennial favorite Peach; like an icy softball of cream and fresh peach blossoming inside your mouth in chunks so large you need to chew with every lick. Crazy.

The flavors are scooped up in big lumps and served in warm made-to-order waffle cones and waffle bowls edged with chocolate, in cups or blended into shakes. Sprinkles and other additions can be added, but the return customers -- which everyone who eats here becomes -- prefer to stick with the basics, because it just can't get better than that.

Devin Alms, IC's "Waffle Cone Queen"

The ice cream deck at Chincoteague's Island Creamery

In Singapore…

Across the globe on the shimmering island of Singapore, Stanley Kwok is working just as hard, creating flavors that can’t be found anywhere else and drawing in throngs of food-obsessed Singaporeans and expats alike. “Since I was a boy I had a secret wish to one day make ice cream. It took decades, but my dream finally came true.” Kwok fantasized of the first truly Singaporean ice cream parlor, serving local Asian flavors in the form of frozen desserts. So he enrolled in – you got it – Penn State University’s esteemed Ice Cream Short Course. 

Today, every batch is made by him, using only premium quality ingredients with nothing artificial. Like his unknown brethren on the other side of the planet Kwok, too, likes to play with his food, creating unique ice creams like Pandan Leaf, Chendol, Kachang, Dragon Fruit, Soursop Pomegranate and Pear Sake – uniquely Singaporean tastes designed to embrace the local palate – alongside spicy mega-hit Teh Tarik and Pulut Hitam faves. “I think it’s good to experiment with new flavors that are unique to Singapore. It keeps young people connected to traditional flavors of their culture.” Kwok says with quiet confidence.

Which is why Stanley has even transformed iconic, savory hits into not-so-sweet frozen treats, such as Kung Pao Cashew (with pieces of spicy chili in it) and Tiger Beer sorbet, with actual bottles of the nation's most popular brew poured right into the pot. He's also sold Guinness ice cream and even toyed with a Chili Crab flavor to celebrate that Singaporean culinary obsession. 

Whatever he makes, Kwok sticks by his All Natural rule, proudly distinguishing Island Creamery from those international franchise wannabe's popping up around the island. That's because he doesn't just dare to be different from them -- he wants to be different. One taste of his signature scoops and you'll understand why, and never stray again. As popular as his local flavors are Kwok still creates more common choices for his Western followers, like his own variations of Cookies & Cream, Apple Crumble and other usual suspects. But not plain vanilla, chocolate or strawberry. “We can do better than that,” Stanley says with a smile. “I want my customers to be spoiled with choices that they will remember and still long for after they leave my store.” 

Sound familiar?

Unbeknown Brothers

Complete strangers Kelly Conklin and Stanley Kwok unknowingly shared the same dream and have simultaneously built their own Island Creamery into successful ice cream magnets on opposite sides of the earth. That dream celebrates the culture of their distinct places through cold scoops of flavor-bursting dessert which cause the same reaction by its utterly different clientele: smiling, quivering lips that twitch ever so slightly at the initial chill of the remarkably good creations, before gobbling down the magic.  

Island Creamery - Chincoteague

Island Creamery - Singapore

On both sides of the planet, that first bite of Island Creamery ice cream is typically accompanied by an expression of satisfaction, or a laugh, or an exclamation of wonderment followed by that international sound of approval: Mmmm. Because this general rule is almost universal: Ice cream is happy food. Which makes Kelly and Stanley unknowing twins in the business of Happy.

Island Creamery - Chincoteague

6243 Maddox Blvd, Chincoteague, Virginia 23336

www.islandcreamery.net

Island Creamery - Singapore

Serene Centre (#01-03), Singapore (and other locations)

www.islandcreamery.com

KF Seetoh: Singapore’s shepherd of street food

Some call him the Guru of Grub; others, the Makankaki Master, but KF Seetoh, by any name, is Singapore’s most recognized and celebrated expert on one of the country’s greatest and most beloved national treasures: food. Not just any food, but hawker food – the food of the street; the soul of Singapore.

Makanguru

Since 1996 Seetoh has dedicated his life to writing, photographing and understanding the street food of Singapore, heading to every place where queues for food form. “Back then there was no guide to the food here,” Seetoh explained as we shared some carrot cake at Makansutra’s own Glutton’s Bay food center beside the Esplanade. So he was inspired to compile information about the food and the hawkers. The hardest thing was identifying the places to try. “It took a lot of talking to people on the street, to taxi drivers and to people cooking food,” he said with a broad smile. The result: Makansutra, Seetoh’s undisputed go-to guide for all things hawker in this land of the food obsessed. Over the years, Makansutra has sold countless copies, guiding locals and foreigners alike to hawker food that is good, great and “die, die, must try.”

Today, Seetoh and Makansutra collectively is a Singapore food institution, with books, television programs, websites and an app. His makan-team consists of 30 full-time employees plus a cadre of volunteers who are profoundly passionate about food. It’s uncontested that Seetoh’s contributions to food knowledge and accessibility is unparalleled in Singapore. He has promoted the nation’s cuisines into the world-renowned phenomenon that it is today. Many say that this accomplishment alone puts him in a special, iconic place. “Anyone who’s anyone in the world of Singapore food knows Seetoh,” says irreverent food rogue, Anthony Bourdain. The New York times has written about him. Martha Stuart insists that he be her guide whenever she visits and has had him cook laksa live on her TV show. The list goes on and on.

It’s an impressive thing when someone works hard to reach the pinnacle of success and then decides to take it to an even higher level. And for Seetoh – who believes that street food feeds not just the stomach but the soul – the mission of making the cuisine of Singapore accessible to all is just a start. “I could just keep doing what I do,” he explained in his usual, affable manner. “But my life’s work still lies ahead of me, and I won’t die comfortably until it’s done.”

Fractured Food

“Street food is a global phenomenon,” Seetoh explains over our crunchy prawn paste chicken wings. “It’s an age-old, earthy profession that has sustained people since the beginning of modern society.” Indeed, the majority of people in developing countries today still depend on food prepared by individual cooks in simple outdoor or rustic kitchens. In Singapore more than 80% of the local population eat at least one meal a day in a hawker center, food court or kopitiam; in Bangkok and Hanoi that number is even greater. But that tradition is changing and, to some degree, dying.  “As societies modernize and the hawker legends get older there are fewer people to pass the street food heritage on to,” Seetoh explains. “Working a food stall is tough, solitary labor; hardly the favored path in today’s youthful, social network-driven society.”

Combine that with the nature of the street food world – a “fractured society” as Seetoh sees it – and what you have is a fading, fragmented industry composed of individuals working alone and selling their talent for a couple of bucks a plate. “Aside from possibly expanding the number of stalls, there’s little growth opportunity for hawkers and no sense of belonging to something greater than just their own thing.” And that’s where Seetoh comes in.

The World Street Food Congress

Recognizing the benefits of collaboration, Seetoh has masterminded The World Street Food Congress, the first forum designed to connect the splintered street food world. The WSFC aims to form a globally-unified body where new ideas, synergies and opportunities can be created over street food. The three principle objectives are to preserve the culture and craft of local street cuisine, to create a unified “industry” of street food with consistent professionalism, and to develop new opportunities through collaboration among street food cultures globally.

But even KF Seetoh can’t assemble a global forum alone, so he’s formed a World Street Food Council, comprised of a collection of the best minds in different food-related disciplines around the world to join forces as vanguards of the industry.  We’re talking chefs, writers, F&B developers, food & lifestyle celebrities and innovative social thinkers who will spirit the cause of a unified street food world in ways that have never before been imagined. A few names which may ring familiar: Anthony Bourdain, James Oseland (Editor-in-Chief of Saveur Magazine and Top Chef judge), Brett Burmeister (started the food truck culture in the US), and some of the very best chefs and restauranteurs from around the globe.  “Enthusiasm about WSFC has spread like wildfire and this is just the first year of it -- we're just getting warmed up,” Seetoh says. “Everyone that I talk to about it wants to play a part.” 

The WSFC Kickoff

To attract the world’s attention to the World Street Food Congress, Seetoh will host The World Street Food Congress 2013: From Street Market to World Market. From 31 May to 9 June in Singapore’s F1 Pit Building & Paddock. The event will consist of a 2-day Dialog conference alongside a 10-day street food jamboree featuring some of the world’s best street food masters serving up their cultural specialties. This isn't just about local food of Singapore, or even Asia; chefs from the US and Europe will also be here to cook up a storm. The event will also present the first World Street Food Awards to acknowledge and recognize the best street food cooks and their food. 

“Street food is not just about stuffing your stomach,” Seetoh explained as we dove into a plate of glistening mee goring puti. “With street food, you may eat the food, but you digest the culture.” It’s that basic philosophy that renders KF Seetoh more a food culturalist than food critic. “Behind every hawker’s plate of noodles or bowl of soup is a story – usually an ancient one – and knowing that story preserves the heritage and makes the food taste better.”  And through WSFC Seetoh will help the soft-spoken world of street food cooks have an organized place to tell those stories through their food – well into the future and all around the world. And in the course of doing so, new street foods will emerge and new stories will need to be told. Which is a valuable thing because, as KF Seetoh would say, “if you don’t eat the culture with every bite, you’ll always be left hungry.”

For more information about World Street Food Congress go to www.wsfcongress.com

Foodwalkers note: This piece, in slightly different form, was previously published in Singapore American Newspaper, March 2013

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....